What a coincidence, my dad was an RAF cadet who trained at Falcon Field in Mesa. The Chinese cadets would have been across town at Thunderbird Field in Glendale.
My dad’s service was fairly late in the war and though he wanted more than anything to be a front line fighter pilot, they had him stuck on an operational training squadron. He had a few fruitless shows in the Hurricane, Spitfire, and Mustang III, including a couple of unopposed bomber escorts to France and Belgium, but mostly spent his days instructing, flying radio relays, target drones, mail runs, and other such drudgery.
But he was a skilled bridge player, and was therefore recruited by an RAF Group Captain several ranks up his chain of command to be his partner. My dad helped him win for several months until the senior guy was reassigned elsewhere, and as a favor he got my dad posted to 19 Squadron late in 1944.
This late in the war the Allies had widespread air supremacy, and 19 Sqn. were getting as much fighting as anyone else in the European Theater, escorting Beaufighters to Norway in the Mustang IV (i.e. P-51D). They saw plenty of air to air and air to ground action, and even got in a big dogfight with the entire Ace of Spades squadron of the Luftwaffe. He saw two of his best friends shot down the day before VE day, can you imagine?