Ford B-17

Although Wright R-1820 development bagan in earnest in 1932, the fact of the matter is that MOST of the WWII-produced engines were built under license by Studebaker in Ft. Wayne and South Bend. Lycoming subsequently license-built R-1820s post war. DD
 
My dad was Pilot of a B-17, stationed in Framlingham, England with the 390th Bomb Group, 571st Squadron, thankfully at the end of the war in 1945. Flew 23 combat missions. First mission he ran out of gas on the way home due to head wind and had to leave formation and find a landing strip in Belgium--2 engines had quit, one had 10 gallons of gas and the other 30 when he landed. None of his crew ever got wounded but they got plenty of holes in the plane several times. He kept a hand written diary of each mission, inlcuding target, weather, type and number of bombs on board, etc. He also flew four "Chowhound" missions dropping food the starving citizens in Holland. He made a little parachute out of a handkerchief and tied some chocolates to it with his name and address. A couple months later, after he had come home he received a letter and postcard from a family that had found his note. They were eternally grateful to the Americans for defeating "those dirty Germans". About 5 years ago, the "little girl" of that family got to visit my dad's radioman in California. A couple years ago my brother and I got to ride in a B-17 in Blaine, MN. We sat at the base of the top turret, right behind and below the cockpit, for start up and take off. As each engine belched to life, smoothed out, then the next, and next and next, and they smoothed out, and then we started to roll I was watching the pilot, thinking of my dad as he had started down the runway on each mission not knowing if he would return. It was very, very emotional. He told me when they got to the end of the runway for takeoff, they would stop as far back as they could, hold the brakes and wind the engines 'til they were full power, then release the brakes and hope they cleared the trees on the other end of the field. He flew his plane home from England with his crew and landed on US soil July 4, 1945. He got married a couple weeks later, and then went to South Dakota and started training for B-29's when Japan surrendered. After he died in 2002 I discovered old pictures of him and mom standing in front of a '36 Ford 5 window coupe. My uncle told me that was Dad's first car. A heartfelt salute to ALL the veterans who have served to protect our country. Swedishsteel
 
woodiewagon46 said:
I had the honor of going up in the 9-0-9, B17 two years ago. During our pre flight briefing the pilot told us that the average age of the crew was about 20 years old. These "kids" and thats what they were, were fearless. For those who have never had the opportunity to go up in a vintage warbird, it's nothing like a modern aircraft. There were patches all over the aircraft where enemy fighter rounds came thru the aircraft, amazing! The noise was incredible. We all owe these guy's our freedom!
Click to expand...

And to think kids of today wander around with the crotch of their trousers hanging down to the ground with their caps on backwards ....piloting skateboards. They'd go running home to their mummy (mommy?) and hide their faces in her apron if confronted with what those brave kids of 70 years ago faced.

GB
 
Last edited:
My dad was 19/20 and flying a P-47 Thunderbolt 70 years ago. I made sure my kids knew what their Grandpa did and they've taken over the task of ensuring others know. They're very proud of their Grandpa, and I'm very proud of both of them.
 
When I was around 5 vrs old I lived on a farm south east of Olpe, Kansas, I remember airplanes flying from Boeing in Wichita, Kansas to Kansas City. They would fly several planes in a group they looked to me the whole sky was covered with planes. I remember you could hear the engines of the planes miles before you could see them. I was very impressed with sound. To this day I still love to hear the engines to start and run.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top