Earning His Wings
By Olivia Zmarlicki-Germano
Contributor
Farmington Memorial Forest sits between Plainville Avenue and Coppermine Road, and for many, it is simply a place they drive past, unaware of the history hidden within the surrounding woodland. Others hike its beautiful trails, perhaps surprised to discover a memorial nestled in the heart of the woods or the recently installed kiosk, an Eagle Scout project completed by Andrew Tabol of Unionville’s Troop 170. Following in his father’s footsteps, Andrew continued a family legacy of service and a shared desire to keep the story of U.S. Army Second Lieutenant Vincent H. Core alive. In 1987, his father, David Tabol of Farmington’s Troop 68, completed his own Eagle Scout project at the site, erecting the beautiful granite monument in Vincent’s memory. The forest was first set aside by the town nearly twenty years before the crash, in 1926, as a memorial to the men of World War I. Members of the VFW and Boy Scout troops from Farmington and Unionville cleared the area near where the plane crashed and renamed it Core Park.
To understand it fully, one needs to go back to the early afternoon of April 11, 1945, when Second Lieutenant Core climbed into his P-47 Thunderbolt at Bradley Field in Windsor Locks, Connecticut. He was twenty years old, a young pilot who loved flying and was proud to serve his country. Vin, as his family called him, was the second of three children in a hardworking Italian immigrant family. His father, Joseph, had come to America from Torino, Italy, with his parents aboard the SS Sicily in September 1906. The family settled in Brooklyn, where Joseph eventually became a skilled tailor. He later married Maria, another Italian immigrant, and together they raised their children, Claudia, Vincent and Dina, with a strong sense of faith, family, and love of country.
When the United States entered World War II after the attack on Pearl Harbor in December 1941, Vin was determined to do his part. He was even willing to alter his birth date so he could join before his eighteenth birthday. His mother refused, insisting that he first complete his studies at Brooklyn Technical High School, making him the first male in the Core family to ever graduate from high school. Secretly, she hoped that by then the war would be over and Vin, along with thousands of other young men, would no longer need to put their lives on the line while fighting Nazis across the ocean. Vin respected her wishes, understanding the concern behind them. Yet, he believed it was his duty to serve his country and defend the freedoms he and so many other Americans held dear. Eager to do his part, he anxiously awaited the day when he could finally enlist.
As the war raged on, Vincent completed his studies six months early,
and just weeks later entered military service to begin his flight training. In January of 1945, Vin had been assigned to fly P-47 Thunderbolts with the 121st Base Unit at Bradley Field. At some time, Vincent met Angie, a young woman who appears to have become very important to him. Angie was not mentioned in Vincent’s obituary and may have remained a private part of his life, but after his death she placed a notice in Brooklyn Eagle, the newspaper his family read, “In loving memory of 2nd Lt. Vincent H. Core. “In life loved and honored, In death remembered.” Angie (Hartford, Conn.)” Although the full nature of their relationship is not documented, the evidence strongly suggests that they were sweethearts and shared a close and meaningful bond. It is possible that Vincent intended to introduce her to his family when he next returned home on leave, though that part of their story remains uncertain.
The weather on April 11, 1945 was ideal for flying—dry, partly sunny, and unusually warm for early spring. Vincent wore an olive-drab flight suit, leather jacket, boots, gloves, and a flying helmet equipped with earphones and radio equipment. His parachute harness was secured over his flight suit. As he crossed the airfield with the other pilots, it was easy to picture Vin joking with them in his unmistakable Brooklyn accent, as was his nature. By all accounts, he was confident and optimistic, a young pilot who appeared to have found his place in the world. Nearby, his P-47 stood on the tarmac, its massive radial engine waiting to roar to life.
After completing his preflight inspection, Vincent climbed into the cockpit of his P-47 Thunderbolt and prepared for takeoff. Although this was a routine training flight, everything had to be done as if he were heading into combat. After all, that was exactly what he and other pilots were preparing for. Second Lieutenant Core would have checked his instruments, tested the controls, and adjusted the altimeter. Nearby, his crew chief waited until Vin gave a thumbs-up, and the propeller began to turn. The great Pratt & Whitney engine coughed and belched a puff of blue-gray smoke before settling into its familiar growl. One can imagine the vibration traveling through the cockpit, the seat, and the soles of Vin’s boots. As the Thunderbolt accelerated down the runway, the propeller blades became a blur, and moments later, the wheels left the ground.
Within seconds, Connecticut spread out beneath the plane. Fields became patches of green and brown, roads became thin lines, making the Farmington River look like a silver ribbon winding through the landscape. Vincent had told his family that he loved being in the cockpit. The roar of the engine, the vibration of the aircraft, and the feeling of guiding thousands of pounds of machinery through the sky gave him both a sense of freedom and purpose.
This flight would be different. The sound of the engine changed abruptly as the aircraft began to vibrate. The engine appeared to have lost power, and smoke trailed behind the descending fighter. From the witness accounts of those in the fields below, it was evident that the aircraft was in serious trouble.
Here is where we must imagine what Vincent felt. He faced a critical decision. He could abandon the aircraft and attempt to parachute to safety, or remain at the controls and try to steer the crippled fighter away from the homes and people below. What happened next would define Vincent H. Core’s legacy. Rather than bail out, he stayed with the aircraft and guided it back toward the open forest and surrounding fields.
He managed to clear the neighborhood, and soon there was nothing beneath him but acres of woods. By then, Vin must have realized that there was no longer enough time or altitude to escape by parachute. It must have been terrifying. The plane reached the treetops and tore through the branches, sending them scattering. Smoke billowed from its belly as the Thunderbolt lost a wing and then its tail from the impact. Seconds later, the Thunderbolt struck the swampy ground and exploded, tearing a massive crater into the earth. It was 2:32 p.m. Vincent Hugh Core—a patriot, a soldier, a sweetheart, a son, a brother, a friend, a young man—was gone.
Vin had earned his wings as a pilot years earlier, but on that April afternoon, he demonstrated something far greater than the skill required to fly a fighter plane. He displayed selflessness, courage and an extraordinary devotion to protecting others. In those final moments, it would appear, duty and instinct overcame the fear he must have felt, guiding him to make an impossible choice. In the eyes of this writer, on that fateful day, Vincent earned his heavenly wings.
The reason for the crash is buried deep within the Army’s inquiry records. Perhaps no one will ever know exactly why it happened, but U.S. Army Second Lieutenant Vincent Hugh Core’s final flight and ultimate sacrifice should never be forgotten.
So, the next time you drive past Farmington Memorial Forest, stop and visit this hallowed ground. Pause for a moment and remember the remarkable young man who gave his life so others could live—a hero whose final actions placed the safety of those on the ground above his own. His sacrifice leaves us with a timeless lesson: true courage is measured by the willingness to care for and protect others, even when the cost is everything.
This article contains research from the following sources: Newspapers.com, Familysearch.org, U.S. Censuses, Ellis Island. Org, Farmington History Room, David Tabol Eagle Project Troop 68. VL
Olivia immigrated to the United States from Communist-controlled Poland at the age of fourteen, after a difficult journey to freedom. Now a mother of five, she lives with her husband in Connecticut. Writing and storytelling have been her passions since childhood. Through her writing,Olivia hopes to inspire readers to follow their dreams, overcome the obstacles along the way, and always believe that life is an art of the possible. See more about the author and her writings at https://linktr.ee/books.ozg.