Before his 27th birthday, Donald E. Hillman was a highly decorated U.S. Army pilot, an ace fighter who had shot down five enemy airplanes during World War II.

He flew 145 missions in 10 months, then was taken prisoner by the Nazis in 1944 after bailing out of a flaming airplane at 12,000 feet.

Mr. Hillman twice escaped from German prison camps — the second time with the help of a German officer with whom he would later develop an extraordinary friendship.

Mr. Hillman's wartime exploits landed him on the front pages of newspapers in Seattle, and on the cover of Life magazine — a bona fide war hero who was fast running out of cloth on which to pin his service medals.

Tough as he was, when people talk about Mr. Hillman, they use words like "lovely" and "charming" and even "dear."

"He was a very colorful, lovely and dear man," said a friend, Douglas Adkins, who met Mr. Hillman long after he had retired from the military.

The Seattle man who was nicknamed "Strong Heart" and "Tiger" in his younger years died quietly March 16 at home after a brief illness. He was 93.

Mr. Hillman's 20 years in the military were the peak years of his life, but he lived vigorously during the second half of his life, too, said his daughter, Lee Hillman Brown of Seattle.

"He didn't just settle down and retire after the military," she said. "He kept having adventures."

Mr. Hillman was born in Seattle on Aug. 24, 1918, the third of five children, four of them boys. His father, a well-to-do contractor, and his mother, a former home-economics teacher, raised their brood in an enormous brick house across from Roanoke Park on Capitol Hill.

Mr. Hillman marked the seasons of his youth by changes of sport: football, skiing, tennis, sailing. He hiked and crewed, and honed his hunting skills at home in the basement shooting range.

When he was 9, Mr. Hillman was sidelined for about six months after a bout of pneumonia. But he tired of the doctor-imposed rest, and began swimming regularly, working up to a mile a day, he wrote in a memoir for his family.

"I learned two lessons from this experience," he wrote. "Doctors are not omniscient; and daily exercise is necessary for good health."

He would carry that love of exercise through his life, doing crunches at the gym up until about a week before he died, his daughter said.

Mr. Hillman graduated from the now-closed Broadway High School, and attended the University of Washington for a year. But he found the social life too distracting, and he transferred to the all-male Virginia Military Academy.

After Mr. Hillman's older brother, Bill, died at age 21, it was assumed Mr. Hillman would take over his father's construction business. So he transferred to Stanford University and graduated with a degree in business in 1939.

He joined the military in October 1940, and he was accepted for flight training with the Army's Air Corps, the precursor to the U.S. Air Force. He became an officer and a flight instructor in Selma, Ala., where he met his future wife, Lloyd Pierce, to whom he was married for 67 years.

Mr. Hillman was a colonel when he was deployed to Europe in November 1943 as commander of the 386th Fighter Squadron in the 365th Fighter Group, of which he would later be named deputy commander. He also served as commanding officer of the 388th.

He flew P-47 escort missions with the 8th Air Force, and was transferred to the 9th Air Force in 1944 to prepare for the invasion of France.

Mr. Hillman was a lieutenant colonel on a mission over Germany in October 1944 when his P-47 caught fire. He bailed out and was captured by German soldiers. During his four weeks in solitary confinement, he was interrogated by Ulrich Haussmann, an English-speaking second lieutenant with whom Mr. Hillman "became well-acquainted, if not friendly," he recalled in his memoir.

Mr. Hillman was then sent to Stalag Luft III, a prisoner-of-war camp in East Germany famously portrayed in the 1963 film "The Great Escape."

After seven months, Mr. Hillman escaped with another American prisoner during a work detail, but they were recaptured and taken to another POW camp, where the chief interrogator happened to be Haussmann.

"He immediately recognized me, and said, 'What in the hell are you trying to pull, Hillman?' " Mr. Hillman wrote in his memoir.

Hillman made a pitch: You help me get out of here, and I'll help you later. Haussmann ordered Hillman into solitary confinement, but showed up at his cell the next day.

Locking the cell door behind him, he asked Hillman, "Just what did you have in mind yesterday, Don?"

Together, they hatched a plan that allowed them to escape under the pretense of a camp transfer.

When they reached American forces, Hillman was freed, and Haussmann became a prisoner of the Allies.

Hillman wrote the British on Haussmann's behalf, and after 18 months, Haussmann was released to his family in Austria. Hillman sent the family care packages, and even visited them, bringing Haussmann's wife an unheard-of extravagance: a bottle of Chanel No. 5 perfume, according to Haussman's son, Christian Haussmann.

Hillman sponsored the Haussmann family's successful immigration to the U.S. In their later years, the men visited frequently to reminisce. Haussmann even accompanied Hillman to the annual meetings of U.S. POW fliers, the son wrote in an email to The Seattle Times.

Mr. Hillman earned numerous decorations for his service, including two Silver Stars, three Distinguished Flying Crosses, 34 Air Medals and the French Crois de Guerre avec Palme.

After the war, Mr. Hillman and his wife had a daughter, Lee, in 1946, and a son, Steve, in 1948. They lived around the country on various assignments. Hillman retired from the Air Force in 1962 and was hired by Boeing as a liaison to the Air Force.

The couple settled in Kirkland in 1979, and Mr. Hillman, who retired from Boeing in 1980, became a familiar figure at the Bellevue Athletic Club and the Seattle Yacht Club.

Mr. Hillman was preceded in death by his wife. In addition to his daughter, he is survived by his son, Dr. Steve Hillman of Sequim, nephew John Sabella of Port Townsend and niece Louise Simpson of San Francisco, both of whom he helped raise.

He also is survived by five grandchildren and 13 great grandchildren.

A private military burial is being planned for next month.

Donald E Hillman