The Flying Fortress From nearly his cradle days my son Joe had been obsessed with World War 2 aircraft . He and I used to build model airplanes, and the way we went about it was that I would buy two identical model airplane kits and have him duplicate on his what I had done to mine. This was easy for me, having spent much of my childhood as a master model builder. It worked so well, that when both of our models were completed, I could not tell them apart, nor could anyone else. Joe’s obsession continued and grew, as was manifest in the drawings he did both at home and in school, producing some respectable renderings of B-17 bombers, the Flying Fortress which in large part won the war against the Third Reich. This was Joe’s favorite airplane. While his fascination with military aviation history was appreciated by many, ironically it did not serve him well in school. The worst thing a teacher can do with a student is to squelch that child’s enthusiasm, which unfortunately happens all too frequently. This was Joe’s experience in kindergarten when his teacher forbade him to draw any more airplanes....in art class no less! So instead, he did a still life scene, but in the sky, high above the rolling countryside, was a flight of B-17s pulling contrails. He was reprimanded for that. To most of us this would have been a teachable moment, providing the teacher a segway for explaining all that is involved with aviation......particularly science and math which are necessities for anyone aspiring to a career as a pilot. It would have also been an ideal intro to history. It’s disheartening the way such opportunities are so often squandered in our present educational system. Then one Saturday morning I read an article in The Concord Monitor that there was an appearance at the Concord, NH Airport of two old warbirds ......a Consolidated Vultee B-24 and a Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress, both aircraft owned and operated by The Collings Foundation, an organization dedicated to promoting and preserving military aviation history. My plan was to ask Joe if he wanted to go for a ride in my truck, but withhold our destination and reason. Joe’s eyes were like saucers as we got out of my truck and gazed head on at the profile of the B-17G, the model sporting a chin turret. Its upper fuselage was painted olive drab, with the tail and wingtips red. The belly of this beast was flat gray, and Joe must have felt as if he had entered a time warp which took him back to the days of Memphis Belle and 12 O’clock High. For a nominal fee the public was allowed to tour the interior of both aircraft. This was an eyeopener for the public, able to see and experience first hand what flight crews must have had to endure vectoring across the North Sea from base in Coventry, England and on into Der Fatherland, all the while playing cat and mouse with anti-aircraft guns, ME-109, FW-190 and, near the war’s end, ME-262 jet interceptor aircraft. By the time Joe and I were touring that B-24, I had the first inkling of how engrossed he had become with that day’s outing. He ran up to the waist gunner’s position, took hold of the machine gun, and tracked a small, single engine Beechcraft on take off. Once he had that private airplane in his cross hairs, he tried to open fire but nothing happened. “DAD! DAD!” he shouted, “IT’S JAMMED!” I’m sure that Beechcraft pilot had no clue as to how close he had come to getting shot down over the Concord Airport. And it’s a tossup as to who was more surprised by that day’s events. Joe, for getting to go aboard an actual World War 2 bomber, or me, watching what it must have been like for aircrews locked in mortal combat with German fighter planes over the oilfields in Ploesti, Romania. The only downer was when I informed Joe that the B-17 has not been in Department Of Defense inventory for over 60 years.
Posted on: Tue, 18 Nov 2014 21:44:00 +0000