Here’s part of the story as Maj. Johnson told it in “Thunderbolt”:
There are twenty-one gaping holes and jagged tears in the metal from exploding 20mm cannon shells. I’m still standing in one place when my count of bullet holes reaches past a hundred; there’s no use even trying to add them all. The Thunderbolt is literally a sieve, holes through the wings, fuselage and tail. Every square foot, it seems is covered with holes. There are five holes in the propeller. Three 20mm cannon shells burst against the armor plate, a scant inch away from my head. Five cannon shell holes in the right wing; four in the left wing. Two cannnon shells blasted away the lower half of my rudder. One shell exploded in the cockpit, next to my left hand; this is the blast that ripped away the flap handle. More holes appeared along the fuselage and in the tail. Behind the cockpit, the metal is twisted and curled; this had jammed the canopy, trapping me inside.
The airplane had done her best. Needless to say, she would never fly again.