12/08/2025
In 1943, a 22-year-old housewife and mother from Rockford, Illinois named Elizabeth "Libby" Gardner made a decision that would change her life forever.
When World War II began, Libby refused to sit behind a typewriter while the world was at war. She taught herself to fly, earned her pilot's license, and applied to join the Women Airforce Service Pilots—one of over 25,000 women who applied, knowing fewer than 1,100 would be chosen.
She made the cut.
After months of rigorous training at Avenger Field in Sweetwater, Texas, Libby graduated with Class 43-W-6 and earned her silver wings—personally handed to her by the legendary Jacqueline Cochran.
But Libby wasn't finished proving herself. She was selected for advanced training on the B-26 Marauder at Dodge City Army Air Base in Kansas—a powerful twin-engine bomber so difficult to fly that male pilots called it the "Widowmaker." Only 17 women in her class were trusted with these aircraft. Libby was one of them.
She spent the war towing aerial targets so gunners could train, testing planes, and flying missions that freed male pilots for combat overseas. She even trained briefly under Lieutenant Colonel Paul Tibbets—the man who would later command the B-29 that dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima.
When the WASP program was disbanded in December 1944, Libby didn't hang up her wings. She became a commercial pilot for Piper Aircraft Corporation and later worked as a test pilot for General Textile Mills, testing experimental aircraft parachutes. During those dangerous tests, she was forced to bail out of crippled planes on two separate occasions—earning her membership in the elite Caterpillar Club, reserved for those who survived parachute jumps from disabled aircraft.
In 2009, after decades of fighting for recognition, Libby and her fellow WASP pilots finally received the Congressional Gold Medal for their service.
She passed away on December 22, 2011, at age 90—but her legacy lives on in the famous photograph of her sitting confidently in the cockpit of a B-26 Marauder, now preserved in the National Archives.
Libby Gardner proved that courage isn't about waiting for permission. Sometimes it's about climbing into the cockpit when everyone says you don't belong there—and flying anyway.
~Old Photo Club