Major Urban "Ben" Drew

Story Profile

The Mustang Ace Who Shot Down Jets

In the early morning hours over Nazi-occupied Europe, the sky was often torn apart by the roar of engines and the rattle of gunfire. Among the many brave souls who took to the air during World War II, one name stands out for a daring feat that few thought possible: Major Urban Leonard "Ben" Drew.

Drew wasn’t just another pilot. He was a Mustang ace—a member of the elite group of fighter pilots who flew the legendary P-51 Mustang. But what set him apart was a historic moment in the final year of the war, when he achieved something no other Allied pilot could claim at the time: he shot down two German jet fighters—in a single mission.

Born in Detroit, Michigan, in 1924, Urban Drew grew up during the lean years of the Great Depression. As a young man, he developed a fascination with flying, a dream that would come to define his life. He joined the U.S. Army Air Forces in 1942, not long after the United States entered World War II, and earned his wings in 1943.

By 1944, Drew was assigned to the 361st Fighter Group of the Eighth Air Force, stationed in England. He flew the P-51 Mustang, a long-range escort fighter that would become a game-changer in the war against Nazi Germany. Sleek, powerful, and reliable at high altitude, the Mustang allowed Allied bombers to strike deep into enemy territory—with fighter cover all the way.

Drew named his aircraft “Detroit Miss,” in honor of his hometown, and began flying escort and strafing missions across occupied Europe.

The skies over Germany in 1944 were becoming more dangerous, not just because of flak and enemy fighters—but because of something new: jets. The Messerschmitt Me 262, the world’s first operational jet fighter, had begun to appear in combat. With speeds far exceeding those of piston-engine aircraft like the Mustang, the Me 262 was a terrifying development for Allied airmen.

On October 7, 1944, Urban Drew took off on what seemed like a typical bomber escort mission over Germany. But as he flew near Achmer airfield, his flight spotted two Me 262s attempting to land.

Drew knew this was his chance.

As the jets descended, Drew dove in, pushing the limits of his Mustang. While the Me 262s were nearly untouchable in the air, they were vulnerable during takeoff and landing. In a daring attack, Drew destroyed one jet as it was just touching down. Then he turned and shot down a second. The first jet exploded in a fireball. The second broke apart midair.

He returned to base claiming two kills—but there was a problem. His gun camera had malfunctioned, and his wingman was shot down during the mission. With no confirmation, his claims were not officially credited.

For decades, Urban Drew’s incredible feat remained in limbo. While he continued to serve with distinction—eventually earning five confirmed aerial victories and becoming a fighter ace—those two jet kills were not officially recognized. Still, Drew never stopped telling his story, and others believed him. Veterans, historians, and aviation buffs dug into German records to find proof.

Finally, in the 1980s, research confirmed that two Me 262s had indeed been shot down at Achmer airfield that day, matching Drew’s account.

In 1983, nearly 40 years after his mission, Drew was awarded the Air Force Cross, the U.S. Air Force’s second-highest military decoration for valor—making him one of the few Army Air Forces pilots of World War II to receive the honor. His kills were also officially recognised, cementing his place in history as the first Allied pilot to shoot down two jets in a single mission.

Urban Drew left active service in 1945, later returning to the Air Force Reserve and retiring as a major. In civilian life, he worked in banking and remained active in veterans’ organisations. He often spoke about his experiences, preserving the memory of those who fought in the skies over Europe.

He passed away in 2013 at the age of 89, but not before seeing his most incredible feat finally acknowledged.

Major Urban “Ben” Drew’s story is more than just one of daring and skill—it’s a reminder of how history can sometimes overlook even the most extraordinary acts. It’s also a testament to perseverance, not just in combat, but in the years it took to set the record straight.

In the pantheon of American fighter aces, Drew’s name now stands tall. He faced down the future of warfare—the jet age—with nothing but a piston engine and nerves of steel.