WWII, Korean and Vietnam-era Aircraft Profiles

Profile 63 - "369" as flown by Robert Mason, 1st Cav

2012-02-05T14:31:00.000-08:00

Done. And coming it at 77 hours, Mason's UH-1D is now the high-water mark in terms of time-spent. Most of these profiles take about 40 hours.

And for a few minutes, I just about embarked on another 77 hours writing this post! There's something about the Vietnam War that makes people want to wax philosophic... but just a few minutes ago, I (wisely) decided that my ignorance on the subject would be too much for readers to bear and deleted my budding tome before it grew any bigger.

However, I would like to share with you an interesting anecdote about Bob.

If you've read Chickenhawk, it's a book that fairly demands being made into a movie. It'd be a major production - war movies are by their nature notoriously expensive. See, explosions just don't happen without big bankrolls. Nine-figure bank rolls. Not counting the pennies.

Over the years, Chickenhawk has attracted its share of attention from Hollywood. And it still is.

Anyway, Bob described one particular big-name offer and why, in the end, he walked away from it. "It was a lousy script! (I knew) I'd have to sit in a theater with my friends!" he laughed. "And (the movie) would suck!"

And so there you have it. The reason why one of the most successful Vietnam-era books has not been made into a movie yet - Robert Mason doesn't want to catch hell from his buddies.

But earlier in our conversation, we talked about how wars start, how wars are fought and how wars are measured... and you know, the war business is really not that different than the movie business. Producers, directors, actors, budgets, scripts... with an audience to please and critics to duck.

Too bad though that someone call "Suck!" on the whole Vietnam thing around 1961.

Thank you for the inspiration, Bob. This has been a great experience for me.

Photo: courtesy Robert Mason

Profile 63 - UPDATE: "369" as flown by Robert Mason, 1st Cav

2012-01-21T11:58:00.000-08:00

"CHALK 4 - INBOUND" *

Here she is so far - "Chickenhawk" author Robert Mason's UH-1D as he flew in the "1st Cav" in Vietnam.

I had a great conversation with Bob the other day. And the highlight wasn't about Vietnam. Instead, the most fascinating part of the conversation was Bob's explanation about how helicopters worked and it confirmed what I believed was true; Helicopter pilots have something 'extra' going on in their brains. They have to - rotor-powered flight is that much more complicated than fixed-wing flight.

This 'extra' allows Helo pilots to dwell in the abstract just a little bit longer than the rest of us and therefore master this most challenging of processes.

In other words, helicopter pilots aren't just bright. They're on it.

He clued me in on a phenomena called "Ground Resonance." In a nutshell, the complicated mechanics of rotational movements from whirling blades to the ground underneath the skids can send waves of motion down to the ground and back up again. Back and forth. Back and forth...

Until the helicopter either leaves the ground or throws itself into little pieces. And it can happen quickly - tremors, shudders and suddenly, the aircraft is ripping itself apart. Thankfully, Ground Resonance is just a symptom with an easy cure - lift off the ground and cancel the waves.

But without knowledge, without fast understanding and without preparation, it's awful.

In thinking this strange quirk of physics through, it struck me that there's a parallel between Ground Resonance and how people adjust to stress. The irony of Bob's book, "Chickenhawk" wasn't lost on me either. In essence, the Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome (PTSD) that Bob experienced after his Vietnam service was the flesh & blood version of Ground Resonance.

It's easy to teach a do-this, do-that technique to overcome physics, but can you do that with the human mind trying to adjust to the decidedly inhuman act of warfare??

I want Bob to weigh in here...but until then, there are about ten more hours, a few more questions and "369" will be Back in the World.

Oh - here's a video on "Ground Resonance."

Profile 63 - "369" as flown by Robert Mason

2012-01-14T15:30:00.000-08:00

Update time, and here she is so far. Robert Mason's UH-1D "Slick" as he flew in Vietnam.

What a crazy machine.

I'm re-reading Bob's book, "Chickenhawk" to get into the era-vibe and I was struck by the part where he describes training to fly helicopters. It seems like every aspect of its flight is a circus act - like the guy on the unicycle, juggling hammers and balancing a monkey on a pole...

These are Bob's words:

"...I moved my left hand up and down, twisting it, to control the imaginary Collective and Throttle; my right hand moved in small circles, pretending to control a Cyclic; my feet controlled the Tail Rotor by pumping back and forth. Eventually I could do all these movements simultaneously."

Complicated, eh?

Whenever I visualize a fixed-wing airplane, I see simple forward motion. Elegance. The exhilaration of open sky. Freedom. Vistas. But jumping into Bob's Huey, I'm dumbfounded by precarious balance of forces threatening to throw itself apart at any moment.

"How is this going to work?!"

The truth is, however, in spite of a helicopter's complexity and demands, it doesn't throw itself apart. Instead, it flies in a brilliant fashion that makes utter practical sense. Helicopters work fantastically well!

Which of course leads us why the UH-1 was so ubiquitous in Vietnam - it was part of the practical plan to create a mobile army that could be picked up and placed at will. The generals hovering over The Big Board could place their chips and markers, confident in the idea that it could be done...and at 125 miles per hour.

We've all seen the movies....

"Whup Whup Whup Whup Whup" Bob and his colleagues would swarm into their "LZs," machine guns rattling, smears of gunsmoke, whirling blades of plant and power...stop, disgorge and get the hell out of there.

The mental powers required to control the helicopter, accomplish the mission and suspend a significant portion of reality (i.e. mortal combat) are immense.

Bob did it over 1,000 times in Vietnam. Go ahead and say "wow." I know I am - the pressure to make this one perfect is higher than any I've experienced.

Stay tuned.

Photo courtesy Robert Mason

Profile 63 - "369" as flown by Robert Mason

2012-01-03T15:20:00.001-08:00

Here's my pencil-study of the next Profile. How's this for a way to start 2012?

When I began interviewing WW2 vets, I never fooled myself that the artwork I'd create as part of the process would become my hallmark. There are only so many hours in a day. The time needed to even approach the level of many aviation artists simply - for me - didn't, doesn't and never will exist.

But, the 'story' - the story would require less innate talent on my part and more of the deep well of passion for learning about life through the paths it takes. "The Story" is simply mine to uncover and display. I can do this.

Years ago, I was given the book, "Chickenhawk" by a friend who wondered if I'd enjoy learning more of aerial combat in Vietnam. At the time, Hollywood was in full-crank on its fascination with all-things-SE-Asia. Killing Fields, Platoon, Full Metal Jacket...and of course, the fanciful, Apocalypse Now.

Truth be told, "Vietnam" was interesting, but at the time, I was hoping more so for a drastic remake of the movie Midway. The dramatic angst of the Era were too closely linked to my mother's television-side rantings against George McGovern and the vibrant images of "Hippies" who slurred their speech and looked so...dirty. I didn't like watching Vietnam on the news, I didn't like hearing about it in the house and given a choice between dreams of blue-nosed P-51s and dingy UH-1s, I'd take the Mustang.

Yet, I cracked the book...and finished it the next day in a marathon of page turning. Though Mason's life - in and out of combat - was fascinating in its own right, I remember putting the book down and thinking, "This is how you write!"

Damn. It was 20+ years ago that I read Chickenhawk and to this day, it remains in my rarified Gold Standards of the art of truth-telling.

Recently, I contacted Robert to do his Vietnam UH-1 "Slick" - not as a vehicle to share history (which it should be obvious that I love doing) but as my way of thanking him for giving me an amazing well to draw upon.

Over the next few weeks, I'll be bring one of his Huey's back to life - #369. In the meantime, if you have an appetite for reading, do yourself a favor and get his book.

First Air Cav is saddled - let's crank!

Click here for the book.

Click here to learn more about Robert.

Photo courtesy Robert Mason

Profile 62 - "229336" as flown by Ken Dahlberg

2011-12-06T11:36:00.000-08:00

On October 5th, I made the post that WW2 ace and post-war entrepreneur Ken Dahlberg died - my artwork was posted in its unfinished form. Well, it should be obvious that this post completes the picture. Have a look.

One of the great disservices of popular culture is how it horrifies death. Having been to a few funerals, all the talk of "Celebrating Life" is really just marketing BS. Who's foolin who? We all know what really happens at a funeral - the guy/gal is buried, we slap the dirt from our hands and head to the church for sandwiches. In reality, the life is "celebrated" as long as the coffee holds out.

I'm really sad that I didn't get to meet Ken in-person. But I'm really grateful for his example. Like going from risking his life in service to risking his ideas in the marketplace to risking his wealth as an investor... What did Ken learn? What about him is worth remembering?

More than ever, our country needs to glorify its successful history - from the leaders to the innovators to the laborers; real people who built a real nation. The artifacts of true success should never be buried but kept atop and examined. In so doing, the past and present dissolve into each other, forming greater knowledge and wisdom.

In other words, we live what we learn.

If your interest in Ken has been raised, do your own search. I hope that it inspires you to achieve and in so doing, he'll live forever. And you will too.

Profile 60 - "306" as crewed by Ken Salisbury

2011-11-11T02:00:00.000-08:00

Complete! “306” - the C-47 that carried Ken Salisbury through much of his WW2 experience. And I purposely finished it to coincide with Veteran’s Day.

306 was chosen in part, because of her Operation Market Garden (OMG) service. On September 17, 1944, this airplane - along with the rest of the 59th Troop Carrier Squadron (TCS) - took part in the largest aerial assault in history. Some 35,000 gear-laden troops were unloaded over a 40 mile line that loosely connected a set of bridges that, if captured, would allow an easy artery for Allied blood to choke Hitler.

"The war will be over by Christmas!" That was the plan anyway.

306 was bound for the northernmost point on said line- a punctuation mark named for the Dutch word for “Eagles Nest” - Arnhem. Her cargo would be 12 to 18 members of the British First Airborne Division and placed by an aircraft slapped with the silly nickname “Gooney Bird.”

To the planner, British Field Marshall Montgomery, OMG was hardly silly. Instead, it was supposed to be the fast ticket to an early end of WW2 in Europe.

Ken’s memories of that day come in flashes and bits. He remembers helping the paratroops clamber aboard and up the C-47’s ground-bound incline before taking his seat at the airplane’s radio. He remembers the steady throb of engines, the howl of wind from the open door and, in his words, “Hollering hello to the Brits who joked that I was lucky to be getting a ride back so quickly.”

Barks of gray smoke, a sudden shudder and the settling in of the steady drone of airplane engines marked just another mission to Ken. “No one talked. Mostly because the noise was loud. Which was probably just as well.” He stated matter of factly. “We flew with the door open - always with a ‘Stick of Troops’ aboard so (once in flight) there was a constant wind howl too.” Ken pauses. “We didn’t talk much.”

It’s also just as well Ken didn’t get too friendly as it’s quite possible that most of the British Paratroopers were dead within a week. You cannot even begin to think about that.

Sorry for the downer...

It’s time to tell you the other reason why “306” was chosen. It’s because this unarmed Gooney was also a Tactical Bomber during OMG. Yeah, you read correctly. This C-47 fought back.

Typically, airborne assaults took place at night. But OMG was a daylight raid. And, with a preferred drop altitude of 600 feet, 306 was not only 'right there' she was also well within small arms range. And, with a drop airspeed of around 105 mph, 306 was slow. They were aerial “sitting ducks.” Yet, not completely defenseless.

“If we were towing gliders, we had to drop the tow rope.” Ken explained. It was 300 feet long, made of braided nylon and capped with two 6 pound “D” rings.” Ken cleared his throat. “After the drop, we’d dive to pick up speed and become a harder target for (enemy) fighters. It was officially called 'Contour Flying' but most of us called it 'Hitting the Deck!"

If the enemy happened to be on the ground somewhere close to that push-over point, they got the tow rope dropped on them. “It played hell on anything on the ground.” Ken explained. “300 feet long, coming down at 100 plus miles per hour, it could ruin an anti-aircraft crew.”

But on September 17, 306 wasn’t towing gliders*. Instead, her pilot authorized the decidedly unauthorized practice of grenade throwing on enemy troops. And the target area was full of them. “I had a rope tied around me, so I wouldn’t get sucked out the side door. I looked up (through the cabin) and saw into the cockpit where the co pilot had his left hand - he gave the thumbs up and I pulled the pins and threw.”

You know, at first blush, the story sounds rather amusing. Something of the sort that would be a comic-relief scene in a movie. Maybe hear a “Yahoo!” from the good guy. But Ken wasn’t Yahooing. He looked at me matter-of-factly as if to say, “Yes. That’s war. Kill or be killed.”

Did he hit anything? “I don’t know.” he replied flatly. “We just got out of there.”

After five hours aloft, 306 touched down at her base in Barkston Heath, England where Ken had his debriefing and an official shot of booze.

You know, listening to fighter pilots, one can be tempted to believe that war is tremendously appealing. The duel, the test of skill, the mastery of machine, the roll of Fate...I like it. But over the years, the closer I get to the ground, the faster things get ugly. I spent 60 agonizing minutes with an infantryman on a tour bus, hearing him barf out out his story as if he'd been sick to his stomach for 65 years. Which he'd been. I don't want to be in that place again.

But here - "306" is a blend of both. The glamour of flight, the ugliness of war.

Have another look, would ya? And however you do it, throw a salute to Ken, the British Paratroops, the misguided Germans below...

It's Veteran's Day today.

The picture above is Ken. He's showing me a picture of his wartime buddy, Harold "Westy" West. Harold was killed in one of those quirky twists of fate when Harold took Ken's place in the wrong C-47 - it's a long story but Ken's never forgotten it. This morning over coffee, Ken described how he visited Westy's mom right after the war and I thought this print should be dedicated to her.

*The next day, on Sept. 18, 306 did indeed do a glider-pull and afterwards got aggressive with the tow rope.

Profile 60 - "306" as crewed by Ken Salisbury

2011-11-05T07:34:00.000-07:00

When I started this C-47, the first post was a poke at the History Channel program, "Ice Road Truckers." But the truth remains, I'm drawing a truck. Granted, a truck with wings, but it's a truck nonetheless.

As you can see, we're getting close - about 80% there - and when finished, she'll haul the story of Ken Salisbury and Operation Market Garden on September 17 and 18. I'm looking forward to sharing it with you because it's rather new.

But, unlike Ice Road Truckers - a success for the History Channel, Market Garden was a failure for the Allied military. And at the heart of its failure was, ironically, the securing of transportation routes for supply and war materiel. You know - "Trucking."

On paper, the idea behind Market Garden was hard to fault. Gain entry into the heart of Germany by crossing the natural fortress of the Rhine River* via a series of bridges in the Netherlands. Once secure, Allied infantry and armored units would own set of freeways to race into Hitler's front yard.

General Eisenhower** however, favored an even push Eastward along the entire front. From the English Channel straight South to the Mediterranean. By doing so, the Allies from the West and the Soviets from the East would deny any real place of retreat and a fast Surrender would be obvious even to Hitler's deranged state of mind. However, the rapid advance of Allied forces had outstripped its own ability to supply itself. Even Patton's famous Tankers were stranded for lack of fuel! So, Eisenhower's wishes would have to wait until supplies built up to afford a final, strong puuuush!

However, British General Montgomery believed time was more important than tactics. "We gotta go NOW!" Instead, paratroops could be dropped near the key bridges, have them secured and therefore open the asphalt arteries; Germany would be done before Christmas.

Montgomery and I have never met. But from what I've read, he was sometimes confused between doing the right thing for the team versus doing the right thing for his career.*** Maybe he had a mental picture of himself riding into Berlin and personally ending the war. Maybe not. But this much is known - his plan depended upon everything going absolutely right.

Eisenhower - at first - wouldn't hear of it. Too much of a drain on tight supplies and too much of a reliance on assumptions. But Monty basically pestered Eisenhower - having raised a couple fifth graders, I understand this process - until Ike said, "Fine."

And so began a herculean haul of paratroops and provisions to points "behind enemy lines."

I swiped the photo below from Wikipedia but it's supposed to be paratroops dumping into Holland. You can see the men dangling beneath their chutes and the whispy shadows of British Horsa gliders.

What you can't see are the C-47s towing the gliders.

Or the sleepy Germans below.

But they're going to wake up really soon.

(insert sound of rifle bolt chambering a round).

*And tributaries.

**General Eisenhower was the CEO/Chairman of the Board for the entire Allied power in Europe. Even the Brits saluted him and said, "Yes sir."

***General Patton had this identical issue, too. So did MacArthur. So did...(get the picture?)

Profile 60 - "306" as crewed by Ken Salisbury (Bombardier?)

2011-11-04T05:29:00.000-07:00

Change in plans - I'm doing "C" instead of "R."

New information - in the form of the mission orders for the opening salvo of "Market Garden" on September 17 and 18, 1944 - have come to light and it's clear that Ken made his bombing run in C-47 S/N 42-23306, code-letter "C."

As you can see by the artwork, there's a LOT to do. I'm not quite convinced of some of the particular airplane's markings and I'm totally unhappy with how my eye is perceiving the weathering of this hard-working hauler.

But for the history geeks among us (and that'd be you, right?) you're probably wondering why I wrote "bombing run" for this particular airplane when it's also clear all she was supposed to do was run paratroopers to the landing zone.

Well, sometimes in war, things don't happen by the book.

The orders are posted below...

Profile 60 - "306" as crewed by Ken Salisbury.

2011-11-03T06:33:00.000-07:00

11-4-11 note: I'd planned on doing the C-47 with the aircraft letter "R" but new information came to light and now, it's "C".

If it weren't for the "Kardashian Divorce" hogging all the headlines, you might have heard the good news that we found a photo of Ken's C-47, X5-C on CNN instead of here.

But sometimes a guy just has to have priorities and right now, getting this Bird right is mine.

Ken and I agreed that the best representation of his C-47 was circa "Operation Market Garden." We liked the presence of the black and white Invasion Stripes and it was indeed a time where Ken was "behind enemy lines." However I am rather fascinated with the Operation itself.

See...Market Garden was a failure. So much so, it inspired a classic best selling book and a movie. Want to know more? Start with Cornelius Ryan's classic work - "A Bridge to Far."

But I'll give you a primer on Market Garden in 21st Century lingo: A multinational corporation is expanding into new markets when a Senior VP decides it's his moment in history to create a spectacular success for the business. The CEO disagrees. The Sr. VP creates a scene. The CEO relents to a modified plan...and in the matter of a few weeks, Ken Salisbury is sitting in his trembling C-47 awaiting take off.

It's September 17, 1944.

Things are going to get ugly. Quickly.

Profile 60 - ???? as crewed by Ken Salisbury

2011-10-27T16:53:00.000-07:00

10-29-11 note: We're now pretty sure the Serial Number of Ken's C-47 is S/N: 42-32898. Yay!

"Ice Road Truckers?!" My friend shouted. "That's not HISTORY!"

The scene was an after-five table at a local watering hole. The issue was The History Channel's decision to persist in their popular show about driving loads across ice while canceling Dogfights - the definitive program that highlighted historical moments in aerial combat.

I even think he slammed his beer on the table for emphasis. CUNK!

Now, your emotion may vary, but my frustrated buddy was arguing from apparent truth. Compared to a swirling duel above Hitler's Germany, an "ice-road truck" doesn't fly!

But.

Truth be told, war is won...not by sexy fighter planes. Nor by burly bombers. But by Logistics. Unsexy. Unburly. Unexciting logistics. And for those who aren't familiar with the term, Logistics is basically this: Hauling stuff to the people that need it.

Patton without fuel? Lame.

The Mighty 8th Air Force without bullets? Toothless.

Wal-Mart® without trucks? Empty.

Have a look at my rough sketch above - it's a Douglas C-47 from the 61st TCG. TCG stands for Troop Carrier Group. Or, in other words. Truckers. The C-47 was the backbone of Allied logistics efforts in WW2. People, fuel, bullets, food, mail - chances are very good that any Allied "Point A" was connected to its "Point B" by a C-47, somewhere along the line.

I'd like to introduce y'all to Ken Salisbury - Radio Operator and some-time Crew Chief in an airplane that has hauled more men, machines and materiele longer, farther and more faithfully than ANY Ice Road Trucker.

Right now, I'm overloaded with the task of finding solid reference material on 59th TCS/61st TCG C-47s but Ken's in great shape and we've harnessed the passion of historians around the world to make sure I deliver the goods - an accurate rendering of one of the C-47s Ken flew in combat.

And combat? Ken was there for it all. And when I mean all, I mean, ALL. He's a veritable History Channel!

Don't touch that dial!

Profile 59 - "Miss America '44"

2011-10-17T16:20:00.000-07:00

Here she is - Miss America ’44!

I’ll save you the squinting - there are 133 bombs painted on her nose. Eventually, two more would be added for a career total of 135 combat missions. To put those figures into perspective, on average, a B-24 was expected to last only 65 missions.

I wasn’t able to figure out precisely how many different crews took Miss America for her hellish rides but I’ll guess at 10. A hundred guys, of which Howard Jensen was merely one.

Howard was a Flight Engineer, an on-board doctor, tasked with making sure the engines, electronics, hydraulics and fuel worked the way they were intended. Or, if you’re a child of the 70s like me, he was “Scotty” on Star Trek.

“Ah’can’t give’ya aneh’more power cahptun!”

But today, Howard is just shy of 90, works out at his gym four-five days a week, treats his wife of 60+ years like a best-buddy (which she is) and remains, at heart, a Flight Engineer.

Typically, there'd be a story here about Howard as a young man in combat. But for some reason, the following seems like the the right one to post. Maybe, maybe not - you decide.

A couple weeks ago, Howard needed a ride some place and circumstances presented themselves that he had a choice of vehicles - a Minivan or (cough cough) a Sports Car. Now, there’s something about “old people” that seems to bring out the Mother in everyone. In a blink, a team of concerned individuals decided that the best car for “Sweet Howard” was the Minivan. Of course! Minivans require little (if any) effort and are far easier than anything (cough cough) you know (cough cough)...

But some smart-ass in the room decided to put the choice to Sweet Old Howard and ask him - “Hey. What do you want the ride in?”

“A minivan?” Howard smiled politely. Then he grit his teeth. “No.”

Gasp. That would mean he would have sit down low. And it would be loud. And he’d need help getting up. And he might not be able to…

"I want the red car."

We burned rubber in the parking lot. “I like this.” he said, scanning the gauges, watching the gears, listening to the engine...later, he told me that he'd spent time researching my car, learning what he could - power curves, compression, reliability... he remains a Flight Engineer, I guess.

I’ve learned a thing about aging. Time is a powerful refinery - people tend to become more of what they already are. It surprises me how often I meet someone in their 20’s, 30’s, 40’s and think, “I bet they’ll be a blast at 103!” or, unfortunately, “Poor grandkids.”

Back to Miss America. Again, the average B-24 lasted about 65 missions. By then, time, tide and The Nazis were expected to have beaten the old bomber down. But Miss America not only hit the the goal, she doubled it.

So, that begs the question, “Why?” According to Howard, Miss America's success was a bit of luck and a lot of conscientious performance on the part of the many different crews. Something about her inspired her crew to hand her off to the next with the kind of pride that improves the odds for long life.

"I couldn't be a pilot but I still wanted airplanes, so I became a Gunner and a Flight Engineer. It isn't so much about getting what you want as it is being the best at what you can."

Not having interviewed any other of Miss America’s crews, I can only speculate on their motivations. But I’ve decided they had to have been a lot like Howard - Men who believed their task was worth doing well regardless of the odds.

I think it was Ray Mitchell who told me that there were guys who decided to die before they died. Subconsciously at least, and sure enough, it seemed that they did. And then, there are guys who decide they're going to live before they've lived (make sense?) - like Howard.

“Howard? You really should ride in the Minivan."

“No. I'll take the sports car."

Or Miss America.

Oh. Today we had the public unveiling of Miss America's prints. That's Howard and me.

Unfinished work - Ken Dahlberg died today.

2011-10-05T07:03:00.000-07:00

Ken Dahlberg - entrepreneur, leader and WW2 fighter pilot died today. He was 95 years of age and ended a life of accomplishment that few people will ever approach.

When I heard the news this morning, my first thought was to hurry up and post the finished work of his P-47 fighter. But I think I'll wait - there's an ironic lesson to be had.

My experience with the man was momentary. Years ago, Joe Foss suggested I call him, gave me his phone number...and I made the dial. Ken and I talked for maybe ten minutes and I made plans to get in touch at a later date. I never did...until too recently. My notes are probably half a page and contain nothing of real importance. My loss - I wasted the opportunity.

Life is linear. Like a P-47 howling over the earth at 400mph, time consumes distance. Zoom!

Many people will mourn Ken's death, talk about his accomplishments and be grateful for his example. But, if I've learned one thing from talking with successful "old people" it's this - at the end of life, they don't talk much about what they haven't done. Though it's a repackaging of the age-old thought - "Is the glass half full or empty?" - the best of the breed think about what's to come rather than what's been left behind.

And that, of course, only makes sense. Flying with the past as a reference only leads to crashing.

So, for now, I think I'll keep Ken's "Bolt" up as a work-in-progress for the reminder that life is short and the number of tomorrow's are finite.

Yet, for the opportunities at-hand, I will seize this day and move them forward.

In the lingo of the 352nd FG "Bluenosers," Blue Skies, Ken. We'll catch up to you.

In the meantime, learn more about Ken by clicking here.

Profile 59 - "Miss America" as crewed by Howard Jensen and Ken Tesch

2011-10-04T06:30:00.000-07:00

It seems a few people want to put together a little unveiling party for Howard, so I'm going to move quickly to get Miss America to meet the Press (figuratively and practically).

So, the next post should be Miss America's debut.

Profile 59 - "Miss America" as crewed by Howard Jensen and Ken Tesch

2011-10-01T10:48:00.000-07:00

Note (10-2-11) - white or yellow Mission Markers?! THAT is the question!

Posted above is my update to Howard's B-24. Give me a week and she'll be done.

I learned something new about B-24s that caused a chain reaction that will boggle your brain - regardless if you care about WW2 bombers or not.

It started with learning that "Miss America" was actually a product of The Ford Motor Company. See that demarcation between the upper "olive drab" color and the light gray on the bomber's bottom? That's the clue. The bombers built by Consolidated Aircraft were painted with a straight line. Ford went wavy.

Now, I knew Henry Ford turned America into a manufacturing powerhouse and played a vital role in Allied materiel production in WW2. But a little research into the matter left me stunned.

Ok. Clear your head. It's about to get filled with stuff.

The B-24 remains the most produced strategic bomber in history. Over 18,000 were built. Lined up wingtip-to-wingtip, a parade-review would take over SIX HOURS at 60mph! You'd be sick of B-24s after ten minutes let alone a third of a waking day.

Of those 18,000 B-24s, nearly 8,000 were built by Ford at one manufacturing plant in Willow Run, Michigan. At peak production, Ford blew 650+ B-24s out the door in a single month!

Now, think of all the aluminum, rubber, fabric, steel, oil, gasoline... that went into the whole lot. And now, realize that of those 18,000, fewer than 20 complete B-24s exist today.

If you're like me, you wonder, "Where did all of that aluminum, rubber, fabric, steel... go!?"

According to the Law of Conservation of Mass, the total mass of the B-24s still exists. From frying pans to airborne pollutants, they're all still with us, recycled atom by atom, into the maw of life.

Many of the readers of this blog have a sense of nostalgia for a United States of the past - what's perceived to be a better, sweeter, more productive time.

Thanks to the Ford Motor Company, Miss America is still here.

Somewhere.

Maybe your iPhone?

Photo Source: "B-24 Research Team" via Bob Livingstone. Artwork and graphic, me.

Profile 59 - "Miss America" as crewed by Howard Jensen

2011-09-28T20:18:00.000-07:00

I've been asked "How do you find these guys?!"

Fair question. The fair answer is by hook, crook, this, that and a lot of travel. But sometimes, I see them almost every day and have no appreciation until a quirk of circumstance forces a meeting.

Not that you care, but I work out as much as I can. And, the Club to which I belong has a chalkboard in the entrance of the Men's locker room. The Porters use it to write generic notes to the Members - "Good morning! Your porter for today is Troy" and stuff like that.

Well, I enjoy erasing the names and chalking dogfight scenes. It's my little act of rebellion. But anyway, a couple of years ago, I happened to overhear one of the elderly members state - to one of the Porters - "How come he never draws any B-24s on the chalk board?"

Well...hook lead to crook lead to this and that...and...well...here we are.

So, I'm finally getting around to Miss America of the 739th BS, 454 BG. A B-24 H of a whopping 133 combat missions! And tonight, a little conversation between myself, Flt. Engineer Howard Jensen and his wife settled the first critical question - Do the nude on the co-pilot side of the airplane? Or, do the enormous mission-tally on the pilot side of the airplane?

Suffice it to say, Howard's a good husband and agreed with his wife. Which is just as well because I'm lousy at drawing naked women.

Watch this spot...but in the meantime, you might find it interesting to learn where the war took Howard & Co.

Profile 58 - "Lillian's Limousine" as flown by Eugene McGuire

2011-09-20T11:20:00.000-07:00

Have you ever wondered if people notice?

Read this.

"I remember being about 10 yrs old and we had a project at home and he needed some wood. We were cruising the trash bins of a row of small manufacturing companies and came across some he wanted. After looking for someone to ask for this scrap wood he took out a pen and paper and left his name and phone number where the wood was. When I was young I wondered why he would do that for something that was obvious trash but as I got older I knew why."

"Lillian's Limousine" is dedicated to Eugene McGuire, fighter pilot, husband of Lillian...and the father of Eugene, Jr. - a ten year old son who noticed.

R.I.P. Eugene McGuire, Sr.

You're going to live forever.

Profile 57 - "192" as flown by Don Erickson

2011-08-20T10:48:00.000-07:00

Note: 8-21-11 - something about this post has struck a nerve. This post has received more unique views from around the world than any this year. Any insight?

Have a look at "192"!

That black tail really does it for me - menacing, sleek; it's a mean machine. Though I do have a certain loyalty to yellow tails and blue noses, this single P-51 of the 75th FS, 23rd FG is my best to-date.

But in comparison to some of the more colorful birds of the past, it's rather unremarkable. No victory markings, no pin-up girls, no clever name painted across the cowl - just the black tail and the last three numbers of the machine's serial number stenciled onto the nose.

And, pilot Don Erickson isn't sure how many times he flew "192." As a replacement pilot to the squadron, he didn't have the kind of seniority or rank to warrant his own plane. "Erickson. Today, you're flying XX." "Yes sir."

Did he fly 192 only once? Twice? Three, four times? Who knows. It was just a rank-and-file airplane assigned to the grind of shuttling bombs to bridges and blowing bullets at trains.

When I met Don, we were at the Air Force Memorial in Washington D.C. When I asked him about his service in WW2, he replied matter-of-factly, "Nothing much" - hence the name I gave it during the prior posts. "I've only got twenty one missions," he stated dryly. "I saw a Zero once but fired way too far away. I'd have never have hit it." He raised an eyebrow and smirked.

In comparison to the swirling dogfights over Europe, or crashing into retaining barriers atop heaving aircraft carriers or dramatic bail-outs over enemy territory, Don's missions were rather lackluster. When I was introduced as "an aviation artist and historian, Don's immediate reply was polite, but terse. "You don't want to interview me. Really. I didn't do that much."

In comparison, Don was right. He was simply one of thousands of pilots in WW2 who, in their vernacular, "...did their job." Truly, the mythic deeds of men like Joe Foss, George Preddy, Joseph Priller and Douglas Bader were much rarer than popular entertainment would have you believe.

Yet, to focus attention only on the mountain peaks means you miss the valley, the forest, the stream, the trees... That being stated, I think you might find Don's story of "Nothing much" more interesting than he might lead you to believe.

In July of 1942, Don answered the Call (i.e. Draft) in typical future-fighter pilot fashion - he took matters into his own hands and decided to be a Naval Aviator. Airplanes were "interesting," there was a challenge, a bit of fun, sounds good! So, he went to the nearest Naval recruiter in Minneapolis. The Land of a Thousand Lakes served the Midwest with the next best thing to ocean, I guess. Anyway, during the examination, Doctors detected a hernia and rejected him.

"You'll never pass. Next!"

And that was it. Idea, plan, rejection. Next!

With that dream dashed and the War Machine just beginning to whet its appetite for flesh, Don reported shortly thereafter at Fort Crook, Omaha for induction into the Army. Again, Doctors detected the hernia and rejected him. "1B" was his classification. That meant he was potentially suitable, but only for limited service.

This degradation didn't make sense to a guy who'd played football and handball. And growing up sharing his bedroom with two other siblings AND grandparents, Don learned a thing or two about cooperation and compromise.

Sure he'd had an appendectomy, but that'd been fixed long before and it was far worse than any hernia. Don decided to petition the Draft Board for another examination. This time, another doctor passed him on but not without the caveat, "When this bothers you, go on sick call and request limited service."

Three times, The System rejected Don. Three times, the experts, working within their well-tried process, found Don unsuitable for combat, let alone Flight. Instead, Don was lead to the realization that the Military believed his best service would be to study (drum roll) Teletype Maintenance. I'm chuckling as I write this - can you imagine having your sights on flying fighters only to have it suggested that you're only fit to fix the FAX MACHINE?!?

Don Erickson swallowed this fate in September of 1942 at Chanute Field, Rantoul, Illinois.

What would you do?

Don't hold it against Don when, after doing outside calisthenics in October's frigid spit, he remembered that he could, "...go on sick call and request limited service." Right now, my mind is conjuring the soft-faced South Dakotan grinning wryly at his miserable buddies doing jumping jacks in the rain while he trots off to get his get-out-of-gymnastics card punched by the base doctor.

I'll tell you what I'd do - if I knew the die was cast that I'd be ordered to handle screwdrivers while my heart was in the sky, I'd feel condemned. Darned right I'd ditch Drill!

Yet, that visit to the doctor turned into a strange twist of fate. It lead to a quick conversation with a surgeon who commented that the hernia could be repaired. A two week recovery, 30 day leave and...maybe...just maybe...that 1B could be reclassified and maybe, just maybe...

Of course you saw what-happened-next coming. Notice the type under my artwork that reads, "...as flown by Don Erickson." Equipped with his born-in sense of determination and maybe even a skill or two picked up via Teletype Repair Training, Don went on to make the highest selection-cuts of all and graduate to flying fighters.

Don's story is - to me - the classic American story of what happens when the individual is free to move freely within the confines of destiny. Great societies and bold works happen when individuals are strong enough to question the system and follow their own compass in order...well, to form a more perfect union.

Don, you're anything BUT "Nothing much" to me. You're an ordinary example of how it's done.

PS - I almost forgot to mention that Don was Class 44A's highest scoring pilot in aerobatics. He put this skill to good use when after WW2, he joined Congressional Medal of Honor holder Joe Foss's fledgling South Dakota Air National Guard. While with the SDANG, Don flew aerobatic displays at airshows. However, he "settled down" and became the Warden of the South Dakota State Penitentiary. I am grateful to the Erickson family for their help in getting this project put together and completed and look forward to hearing of a wonderful time at Don's upcoming 90th birthday.

PSS - note to self; Ask Don if he ever repaired the Squadron's teletype.

PSS - The stuff in the bottle? Wine. Chinese wine. I can't imagine...

Profile 57 - "Nothing Much" as flown by Don Erickson

2011-08-15T16:19:00.000-07:00

Don flew two models of the P-51 - the C model and the D model. He asked that I do "The D." And so it will be.

Did you have a look at the photo in the post below? The black-tailed Mustangs look more like sharks than they do their horse namesake.

Funny about the sharks, however - a Shark was the squadron's mascot. The shark is a logical choice, too. Most people have seen the white-toothed P-40 fighters of the "American Volunteer Group" (AVG) - that group was originally a bunch of mercenary pilots who were hired by the Chinese government to help repel the Japanese invaders.

After Pearl Harbor, the U.S. politicos took a dim view (rightly) of Americans flying for foreign powers against a common enemy and 'appropriated' the AVG into the Army Air Forces. Naturally, there was a rebellion - the mercenaries vs. the bureaucrats - and for the most part, the bureaucrats won. There's a saying - "Be careful of the guy who sits in the plushest chair."

So, the shark-toothed P-40s lost their Chinese nationalist markings and became the 23rd Fighter Group...but kept the shark motif as a mascot.

I'll be publishing parts of my interview with Don in the next update. But until then, I thought you'd appreciate the patch he wore on his leather jacket.

Interesting stuff's a'comin.

Profile 57 - "Nothing Much" as flown by Don Erickson

2011-08-15T02:00:00.000-07:00

Today is August 15, 2011.

In case you're not the history geek that I am, this date marks 66 years since the surrender of the Japanese forces. Can you believe it?! And WW2 continues to hold a fascination over people worldwide. And get this - every day, the more and more of those people will never have known anyone who experienced those critical months between September 1, 1939 and August 15, 1945.

But there's also additional significance to this date - albeit small significance. See that photo on top? It's possible that the photo was taken pretty close to that August 15 date.

They're four P-51 Mustangs of the 75th Fighter Squadron, 23rd Fighter Group and if you want to read between the wings, there are at least five pilots there that know their work is basically done.

I'd like to introduce you to Don Erickson, fighter pilot. For the next few weeks, while I finish up some loose ends hanging over Ken Dahlberg's P-47, I'll be attempting to bring Don's P-51 Mustang back from those last days of WW2, China.

And maybe along the way, we'll figure out what the hell is in that bottle he's holding.

Profile 56 - ????? as flown by Ken Dahlberg

2011-08-06T12:50:00.000-07:00

Today was the first time in two weeks where I could really sit down and indulge myself in this particular airplane. I'm sorry I can't report more details at this time, but I hope to shortly.

In the meantime, this gorgeously brutal P-47 Thunderbolt of the 354th Fighter Group will likely be finished this weekend. I just have to mask-in the tail and even out the lighting on the hard-worn fuselage. And redo the skull.

Not too many photos of Ken's P-47 exist, but enough do of the 353rd Squadron's flying-skull nose design. As a little kid - geez, maybe 5 years old - the photo below made its way into my memory. The specific book is forgotten, but the image of the page on the kitchen table remains vivid. But one of the strangest recollections of that time was that I somehow assigned construction sounds to the photograph.

Of course, I'd never heard a taxiing P-47. But mentally, I could imagine clanks, whirrs and strains of metal, gears, engines. And that logo! Brilliant! I'd like to meet the mind that created it - today, that winged-skull trademark could launch a million dollar clothing line...

Anyway, in hindsight, that childhood audio memory makes sense - America was in the construction business. The Axis needed to be demolished and the scene made anew to build it back up again.

The American nation's sense of cooperation, of shared responsibility, of compelling vision is - in a tiny way - portrayed in the photo of the soldier laying on the pilot's wing, guiding him through the taxiway of a foreign land...

I look at the photo and feel very, very proud to be an American.

Maybe it'll do the same for you today, too.

The airplane above was flown by Maj. Glenn Eagleston, 354th FG, 353rd FS. If you'd like to know more about Eagleston, I suggest you click here to learn more about his military career. He died in 1991.

Profile 56 - "?????" as flown by Ken Dahlberg

2011-07-22T19:28:00.000-07:00

Busy week, it's Friday and I've got a little time...and a pencil. Hence the Study of the P-47 above. It's a 'Bolt from the 353rd Fighter Squadron of the 354th Fighter Group.

A few years ago, I was a guest to a demonstration of low-level flying, featuring a P-47. We were at a place called "Bodney" in East Anglia, England; our hosts were pilots, crew and staff of the 352nd Fighter Group. My vantage point was one that wouldn't have flown here in the States. The P-47 came down low and the action was not 'out there' over Airshow Center but 'right here', over our heads!

'You know how jets seem to approach in silence? The P-47 was similar - I vaguely recall her engine's mid-timbre rumble bouncing around in our little tree-lined field...then VwwwwMMMMPHH! We ducked, a quick slap of wind and the Jug slingshot into the opposite horizon as if attached to the sun by a rubber band.

Of course, I thought about what it must have been like to have been a German soldier who's life is marked by retreat, looking up and seeing...

Profile 55 - "Little Horse" as flown by a damn good friend

2011-07-22T11:51:00.000-07:00

Presenting Little Horse - not as she fought in WW2 but as she rides today.

Just to be clear to readers - this is not the airplane Ken Dahlberg flew in WW2. It's close, but not...perfect. Lot's of little details aren't quite right - and that's no biggie considering "D-5" Mustangs aren't exactly found on street corners these days.

Instead, it represents one that was restored and flown by an aviation enthusiast a few years ago. Though I've never stated that my art was ever 100% historically perfect*, this Little Horse will be my only exception to the principle of "Old guys and their airplanes."

Hear me out. Over the years, I've been so fortunate to get to know men of great accomplishment and character that I can't possibly express my gratitude. Many of the pilots in this blog have been more than gracious with their time - they've become the grandparents I never had...and our families have become interconnected.

It's huge.

And mostly? The fun, fellowship and guidance I've received has changed how I view aging and the role of the elderly in life. 60's activist Jerry Rubin is reported to have made the quote, "Don't trust anyone over 30." Hell. I've learned not to trust anyone under 80!

(I know one WW2 pilot that probably just blew his martini through his nose laughing).

Now...this Little Horse has nothing to do with Ken Dahlberg, the 354th FG or even WW2. It's solely a gift for a guy as a thank you for years of business support and loyal friendship. And the guy just happens to be the man who restored, flew - then sold, the Little Horse as shown above.

The patron and I met for coffee to talk over the project and I asked him why he would want the restored version and not the historically significant one. "This one is significant. I knew Little Horse meant a lot to him. He's meant a lot to me and my family."

Facts and data are one side of History. The other side are the improbable connections and relationships we collect. Together, they make up reality.

And...it looks like we might end up getting Ken involved ANYWAY!

Stay tuned.

*True story. I had a pilot and independent experts bless a plane I did years ago only to have a long-lost photo pop up (years later) to reveal that the nose art wasn't exactly as shown. Every time the presses start up or I hit "post" for my website, I hold my breath just a little bit...

Profile 55 - "Little Horse as flown by Ken Dahlberg (sort of)

2011-07-19T10:29:00.000-07:00

The nose! And a fine nose at that.

Did you ever read that story, "The Blind Men and the Elephant"? In case you haven't, a number of blind men stumble across an elephant. One finds the trunk, another finds the tail, another a leg, another...and they all attempt to describe what they've found. One says, "It's a snake!" Another exclaims, "It's a tree!" "It's a rock!" You get it.

Though they're experiencing the same thing, it's also clear they're not.

History is like that, too. To understand what history is saying, you must step back, feel around in the dark for another perspective, step back, do it again and again... Eventually a truer picture emerges. But the perceptions are never complete.

I hate that. I want to know.

When Little Horse came around, the commissioner was passionate; his energy for the project was surprising even for a WW2 warbird enthusiast. "This will be great!" he enthused. "And you shouldn't have any trouble with references because there's a lot on the internet!"

Well, two minutes into the research and I knew "we" had a problem. Those internet photos were of the modern restoration. Gorgeous, immaculate. But it wasn't Little Horse.

Why not? To me, the real Little Horse that Dahlberg flew was actually assigned to another pilot. And she was a D-5 version that didn't have a tail strake, unlike the modern-day copy. And the horse? Likely red. Not black. And...

I felt like one of those nerdy buzzkills who show up and ruin the conversation by interrupting with a, "Well, actually the real Mustang..."

Please know - I don't use the word 'real' without a tinge of terror. Stop in my office some time and I'll show you a print that was blessed by the pilot and independent experts only to be revealed to be in err when a previously unknown photo popped up years later. (laughs) Granted, the world would be a much better place if this was the worst of our problems, eh?

Anyway, I explained the complication - "Which Little Horse do you want? The real one or the...other 'real' one?"

That's when I learned that this wasn't a typical Commission. In fact, it had very little to do with Ken Dahlberg, the 354th Fighter Group, WW2 or even Little Horse.

Stay tuned.

Profile 55 - "Little Horse" as flown by Ken Dahlberg (sort of)

2011-07-18T06:13:00.000-07:00

You'll have to "google" Ken Dahlberg for yourself. He's too big for this little outpost. Suffice it to state, years ago, Joe Foss gave me his phone number and I called him. He answered. We talked - great guy. THEN...I found out who he was outside of being a WW2 fighter ace. That was about ten years ago. I'm ashamed that I didn't follow up - Joe's death and life's circumstances got in the way. "Little Horse" was put out to pasture in my mental corral of, "old guys and airplanes that I really should try to get done one day."

Fortune, however, is impatient. "Little Horse," one of Ken's WW2 mounts, is now on the fast-track.

The pencil study above is an attempt to get my head around the challenge. See, there are two Little Horses. One is restored and hangared, awaiting her next steeplechase in the sky. She is new and perfect. The other is long-gone and buried in time, awaiting no one. She is a gray memory of war.

Which one to do?

Watch this space.

The black Sharpie™/ pencil sketch below is my Study of the horse that graced Little Horse's tail. I'm rather proud - it's pure luck that it didn't turn out looking more like a jellyfish. I simply can't draw animals. Before I began this project, I believed, "Little Horse" was going to be "Big Hours." But I caught the vibe on the first try - like I should have done ten years ago with my call to Ken.

Profile 54 - "105" as flown by the SDANG

2011-07-16T07:47:00.000-07:00

There's a bitter-sweet tinge to this bird. At once, it's an F-16; arguably the definitive dogfighting jet. At the same time, it's...well...probably the definitive dogfighting jet. In other words, the F-16 may be the apex of the breed.

A conversation I had last week will explain my opinion better. An aviation enthusiast asked me, "So. In the future, are you going to start drawing Predator Drones and Control Trucks?" We had a good laugh. But he may be right. Technology has advanced to the point where we don't need butts in cockpits any more. Instead, we may end up with butts in comfy chairs and faces illuminated by monitor screens, controlling the 'action' from thousands of miles away.

First flown in 1973, 4,500-some F-16s have since been built and they're still in force; obviously the SDANG is flying them today. With nearly 40 years of flight, it may be tempting to think of the Falcon as 'old.' Yet, think about this fact - the F-16 remains a first-line fighter. It's not so much 'that old' as it is 'that good'.

I remember, as a little kid, getting my monthly (I think it was Airpower magazine) rag and seeing the prototype YF-16 in Bicentennial colors. The grainy color spread was promptly taped onto my wall. Even now, when I see F-16s in the air, I open the sunroof of my car to hear the crackle of her engine and get another glimpse of the familiar shape arcing overhead.

Back to me as a kid; there was nothing I wanted to do more than fly fighters. Unfortunately, I also remember the December day when I learned that Genetics had a hand in Fate - an optometrist slid coke-bottles over my nose. He whistled, "No Air Force for you!" What?! "Can't have eyes like that in a fighter plane!" Bastard.

Today, I wonder if technology is giving its version of coke-bottle glasses to Fighter design. Putting the expense of cutting-edge technology AND a highly trained pilot in the air is becoming prohibitive on all levels - money, time, energy...and people we love more than life itself.

To this paradigm, I have to call this progress "good." One fruit of my time with combat veterans is this - any boyhood glamorization of war is dead gone. I've held those dreaded WW2 Telegrams, "We regret to inform you..." I remember WW2 pilot Robert "Punchy" Powell pointing to a place at his Bodney, UK airfield, "That's where Frascotti was killed." Or when Ray Mitchell said, "I remember when Preddy was killed..."

Or when...ad nauseum. Remotely piloted Drones? Damn good idea. I look forward to the day when a battlefield is littered with circuit boards and batteries. Especially knowing that two of my kids are eyeing cockpits.

But you know what?

I still have that F-16 poster. Can't throw it away.

(sigh)

Next up - another P-51!

Profile 53 - "236" as flown by the SDANG

2011-07-14T08:22:00.000-07:00

Recently, an A-7 came up for sale in the civilian market. And I missed it.

It's just as well as I don't think I could have flown it smoothly with only one arm and leg. But I would have tried. Yes, indeed, I would have tried.

Though the airplane bore the name "Corsair II" in honor of her great uncle, the F4U Corsair, the nickname the A-7 took in practice was "SLUF." Short for, Short Little Ugly...Feller. Yet, I distinctly remember seeing A-7s in service and to me, there was nothing ugly about them. The thick-set, high-winged machine was an unmistakable shape that said, "I'm in for the fight." Of all the SDANG jets, the A-7 is my favorite.

In practice, the A-7 was not a fast aircraft. In fact, the most widely used versions were subsonic. As a dogfighter, it didn't particularly excel either. Though maneuverable enough, her high-wing is designed to bring the airplane the stability necessary for weaponry. In this role, SLUF did her job admirably. With 8 hardpoints (6 under the wings, 2 on the fuselage) the little beast could shoulder over seven tons of weaponry into the air. Iron bombs, laser-guided weaponry, air-to-air missiles and even nukes.

For the SDANG, the F-16 replaced the A-7. That had to be a strange moment for the pilots - to go from thick & muddy to sleek & clean. As a role-airplane, there's no doubt the F-16 is a leap ahead. Yet for me, the prospect of sitting out there in front, with a burner in the back...like I wrote in the intro, if another comes up for sale, I'll be the happy guy hobbling on the ramp in crutches.

You know what's next...

Profile 52 - "754" as flown by the SDANG

2011-07-13T17:39:00.000-07:00

"Gawd what a miserable airplane!" he cried. "Those brakes were so bad, they had boards of nail strips to stop the things!"

I'll leave his name out, but the quote above came from an FAA Controller buddy who, in the course of decades of experience, has an opinion on nearly every airplane that's taken to the sky since 1950. F-100s were based at a field he Controlled during the mid-60s. Clearly, he saw one-too-many F-100s roll off the runway and made his judgement.

Airplanes "do that" to people - they give rise to such emotion and logic, dichotomies often result. "Best airplane the Air Force every had. Worst piece of crap ever forced on our armed services."

"I love flying. I hate flying."

Not having flown the F-100, nor having any reasonable prospect EVER TO fly the F-100, I'm left with my own dichotomy. And, I think the F-100 is simply awesome. Not necessarily just because of the airplane itself but also because of what the airplane represents.

As a machine, it was the first American jet to fly supersonic in level flight. It represents achievement. As a warrior, it was the first American jet to fly combat in Vietnam. It represents work. As a tool, it served the armed Air Forces of many nations and obviously the highly, highly, highly respected South Dakota Air National Guard. The F-100 represents success.

I looked forward to doing the F-100 because it posed a particular challenge. See the exposed metal underneath the tail? That's an area that became so hot, the camouflage paint burnt off, leaving distinct scorch marks of heat-distressed metal. To me, this made The Hun* seem to say, "I'm here to get something done. Get me ready and let's go!"

There's a purposefulness to the Super Sabre that is particularly appealing to me. Grit. Sweat. Effort. Risk. Reward.

For the South Dakota Air National Guard, their reward was especially so - having "inherited" one of their F-100s from the famed USAF aerobatic team, "The Thunderbirds," the SDANG returned her to T-bird colors upon retirement in 1977. Today, the South Dakota Hun resides at the Air Force Museum at Wright-Patterson AFB today.

Brakes?! Who needs brakes when you're designed to GO!!

(Photo: SDANG F-100D being escorted to Wright-Pat by next-gen T-38 Thunderbirds, circa 1977, courtesy South Dakota Air National Guard via Lt. Colonel Christopherson).

Profile 51 - "61114" as flown by the SDANG

2011-07-08T16:52:00.000-07:00

NOTE: I'm taking a short break from WW2 planes to focus on a special Commission to do the aircraft of the South Dakota Air National Guard. I hope you enjoy this diversion.

At the risk of being smashed under the weight of my own irony, "the internet" is a middling place for research. The cut-and-paste tendencies of fact-gathering can quickly distort reality. The study of history, especially military history, is no exception. Try this sometime - pour a tall glass of your favorite libation and Google "Hitler's Spacecraft." But be careful - you'll never get that time back...

But, when I started research into the F-102, I started with the web (duh) and was surprised to find so much negative about the airplane. Fortunately, having three older sisters made me value skepticism. In other words, I don't believe everything I read, see, hear... (thanks, girls).

So, regarding the Delta Dagger, I figured it'd be best to ask someone who actually FLEW the airplane.

A couple nights ago, I called up my buddy Col. Bill Creech and asked him about his time in the F-102. Bill's a qualified guy. He flew A-36s and P-51s in WW2, then F-100s in Vietnam. He's flown pretty much anything that the Air Force had up to the end of green camo paint jobs. Including "The Deuce" of course.

He described how he'd orient new pilots in the two-seat version called a TF-102. At about 15K, he'd pull the nose up and throttle back to where the airplane would be mushing through the air at around 85kts. In case you're needing a reference, 85 knots is Cessna 150 speed.

Anyway, Bill articulated how the F-102 would be near vertical but completely steady and within the pilot's control, "...a sweet dream!" he enthused. "Of course, we were sinking around three thousand a minute, but she was as smooth as ever. A little push of nose and we'd be on our way again. What an airplane!"

Bill went on to explain the why's of the Deuce's remarkable maneuverability and flight control - the giant delta (triangle) wing provided wing-loading that was more like an early war WW2 prop fighter than a 60's supersonic interceptor.

In case you don't know what "wingloading" is, it's essentially the weight the wing carries per square foot*. Think about two hikers - one has a heavy backpack, the other none. Which one will be more agile? Here's some context:

Airplane Wingloading

Sopwith Camel (WW1) 6lbs/square foot

Mitsubishi Zero (WW2) 23lbs/square foot

P-51 Mustang (WW2) 40lbs/square foot

Mig-15 (Korea) 50lbs/square foot

F-100 Super Saber ('nam) 70lbs/square foot

Boeing 747 130lbs/square foot

F-102 ('nam) 32lbs/square foot

Suffice it to state, the F-102 could be jinked around like a housefly. And these numbers become all the more remarkable when considering the thing is nearly 70feet long and could have a dirty-weight of nearly 30,000lbs!

In the SDANG series, the Delta Dagger is the big awkward kid at the school dance, but certainly deserves a deeper look past any hand-me-down criticism. Of all the planes, I've learned the most about The Deuce and am happy to have new-found respect towards her designers, crew and pilots.

However, the state-of-the art changed when the SDANG hangared their 102s in 1970. Stand by - The Hun is in the pattern!

Fortunately in my research, I was able to spend some time up-close and personal with a real F-102. I went through my photos and thought you might like this shot showing the radically sharp-edged canopy.

*Recognizing that the topic of wingloading is a completely different issue and entails complexities far beyond my skip-the-surface analogy, let's keep the discussion on The Deuce for now and pick up the aerodynamic engineering over Christmas break.

Profile 50 - "11419" as flown by the SDANG

2011-07-07T13:25:00.000-07:00

NOTE: I'm taking a short break from WW2 planes to focus on a special Commission to do the aircraft of the South Dakota Air National Guard. I hope you enjoy this diversion.

As a little kid, I have a distinct memory of the F-89 Scorpion. I remember being utterly disappointed by it.

Page flip, P-80 Shooting Star. Cool name, cool looking plane. Page flip, F-84 Thunderjet. Cool name, sorta cool looking airplane but with bombs. Cool! Page flip, F-86 Sabre. Holy of Holy - the crown jewel of all-things-jet fighter. I WANT ONE!!

Then the page flip, F-89 Scorpion. Thud. Not even the cool name could help this thing get past its Japanese sci-fi model-airplane aesthetic. From the 1930's passenger-plane tail to the dunce-cap nose, this airplane wasn't designed by lovers of airplanes - it was designed by a committee of retirees and first-year engineers! I sooo wanted this thing to have a red star painted on it instead of our star-n-bar.

I turned the page. F-100. Now we're truly cool again. See how the mind of a ten year old boy is?

And today, my mind was no different. Of the seven South Dakota Air National Guard airplanes I needed to do, I started with the F-89 to get it out of the way. Poor old bird. Even today, she gets no respect.

Yet, like her F-94 cousin, the Scorpion was the product of an era - a transition of technology, of tactics, of strategy, of culture. In Northrop and the Air Force's defense, the F-89 represented a challenge as difficult - if not MORE difficult - than today's stratospheric technology of Stealth and Remote Piloting - just what would World War Three look like?!

Working on this big beast's lines, it was easy to visualize the F-89's paired crew, huffing rubber-scented oxygen, knifing through the thin air of 50,000 feet, sweating out the miles between it and the formation of Tupolev Tu-4s as they crossed the Mid-Canada Line...

If - and the "if" is rather horrifying to think about - WW3 would have made it to the USA circa 1959, the F-89 would probably have been remembered as a savior rather than the big clunky thing.

And I would have probably saved the Scorpion for last.

Oh - eagle-eyed readers will notice the subtle differences in markings behind the photo and my artwork. My artwork represents 11419's an earlier paint job.

Profile 49 - "01010" as flown by the SDANG

2011-07-06T20:12:00.000-07:00

NOTE: I'm taking a short break from WW2 planes to focus on a special Commission to do the aircraft of the South Dakota Air National Guard. I hope you enjoy this diversion.

Aside from being a rather ugly airplane, the F-94C "Starfire" represents - at least to me - the raging optimism that pervaded the 1950s.

The idea behind the F-94C was that radar would guide the jet behind the marauding Commie bombers and fire off a batch (24 or 48) of smallish* missiles into the attacking bomber stream. These are unguided missiles, by the way. Spray, and pray. Like a kid with a mouthful of watermelon seeds.

In reality, the concept was never tried in combat. Thankfully so because the airplane was obviously designed to fight World War Three. But in practice, the flash from the launch blinded the pilot and the instant plume of smoke had a tendency to cause the jet engine to flame out.

Today, the idea of a fighter plane getting close enough to spew supersonic baseball-bats into a formation of Ruskis is kind of ridiculous. However, AT THE TIME, the decision wasn't so silly. The Red Threat was real - Russia was franchising Communism at a furious rate and post-WW2 economies were willing to try anything that seemed to make cents. If you're bored, look up Curtis LeMay - he's a fascinating leader that seemed to have been minted for the moment.

From the vantage point of today - in 21st Century America - I take-away the confidence, courage and hubris of a nation unafraid to try and champion new ideas to meet perceived threats. I imagine the pilots of the South Dakota Air National Guard, scrambling into their cockpits, spooling up their ancient engines, taking way-to-much runway to take off and climbing to the deep blue.

There's something about that vision that stirs the emotion of patriotism and power. Had I been alive back then, and the Nuke sirens wailing, I know I would have stood up from my Duck & Cover and watched the silver birds climb into the sky... "Hell yeah!"

And therein lies the wisdom of studying history - it forces us to think as we were not as we are. And of course, Today will become the Past soon enough.

*They were called "Mighty Mouse" missiles. Cool name, eh? Here's a photo of 01010 in flight.

Profiles 49-54 - the defenders of the plain

2011-06-29T05:41:00.000-07:00

In the business world, second, third, fourth...generation leadership is weighty stuff. There's a cynical axiom that runs its way around cocktail talk that goes something like, "Well you know, Grampa built it..."

Everyone in earshot knows what's being said. "Grampa built it, Dad drove it but the kids wrecked it."

Then, the listeners nod their head in silent understanding and take another sip of anesthetic. Gulp. There is indeed a penalty to leadership. It's the Followership. Many businesses, organizations - even families - don't survive the inevitable transitions. The culture doesn't take root, the wisdom doesn't nourish and the vision withers...

You've heard it before, right?

Anyway, typically, my artwork revolves around one person's airplane, one person's story, one person's perspective. But, late this past Winter, I received the Commission to document a suite of warbirds that cover, not just a few months of service, but nearly seventy years and thousands - thousands - of people. From stick'n rudder to fly-by-wire. Legendary personalities to part-time clerks.

Over the next month or so, I'll be posting elements of that project here. I hope ya'll will find them interesting - it's an American success story that is both stunning in its passing of the baton and also humbling in how they do it.

And I bet you haven't heard this one before.

And of course, there's a WW2 airplane wound up in it too - a black-tailed one flown by guys who wore what I believe to be one of the top-5 coolest squadron mascots ever.

That in mind, Lt. Erickson, in case you're reading this and wondering if I'll ever get to your airplane, have another cup of coffee, sir. I have to get these birds off the ramp first. I know you understand. :)

Profile 48 - 511417 as flown by Lt. Col. Joe Foss

2011-06-11T07:27:00.000-07:00

Done! The F-51 Joe flew while pioneering the South Dakota Air National Guard (circa 1947) is now aloft in the internet's data pool. And then, to press...but that aspect of production is not important right now.

Every airplane I do embodies some single positive element. In 511417's case, it represents the word "accomplishment" and for good reason. Joe accomplished much in his life. Compared to most people, Joe's resume is so disproportionately huge, it begs the questions, "Why?"

Yesterday morning, I was having coffee with a friend who - and I have to be cagey here - is very much involved in public education and the topic of predicting a student's future success came up. Like many business leaders, he believes that an organization's Culture is the greatest barometer of whether it will encourage people to greatness or failure or mediocrity.

Though dichotomies are often too simplistic, the conclusion was thus: A culture either teaches that success comes or success is achieved. Or, in other words: "Build it and they will come" versus "Go out there and get it." One is more passive, the other more active.

Argue the merits of both perspectives as you wish, but there's no doubt that Joe Foss achieved. He determined to be bold at whatever he did. Though some aspects came easy (audacity) and others came harder (his Faith), Joe never rested, wringing the utter life out of, well, Life. I find that kind of earnestness to be refreshing and inspirational.

This in mind, I thought you'd all find Joe's perspective on his WW2 military service interesting.

Profile 48 - UPDATE

2011-06-07T11:08:00.000-07:00

Joe Foss's F-51 is about...hmmm. I'll call it 45% complete. There's too much to improve/do that I won't list it all, but so far, so good.

That all being stated, I'm surprised at the amount of interest building in this particular airplane. For one, it's an F-51. By the time these glorious birds got passed down the line to the South Dakota Air Guard, the Mustang's day in the sun had long set.

Can you imagine those days? The war behind, the future ahead, the whine of jets spooling for thrust...and the ancient F-51s crouched in their row on the hot August tarmac...

But most importantly, the legend and lore of Joe Foss persists. When I work on this airplane, I think of the man's persistence, his utter authenticity and the startling humility of his spiritual faith. This past week, I actually had a "What would Joe do?" moment and took the course of action that I could best "hear" in Joe's unmistakable, matter-of-fact South Dakota clip...

"You've got to tell'em. If you don't, you'll leave the guy hang'n and that does ya'both no good."

So I did just that. Thanks, Joe. Wherever you are, I hope you like the way this is coming along.

Profile 48 - 511417 as flown by Joe Foss

2011-05-25T11:07:00.000-07:00

Oh man, if I could do it over...!

Recently, I was fortunate enough to get a rare Commission - to do the suite of aircraft flown by the South Dakota Air National Guard. If there's one dominant feature of the gig, it's that WW2 ace and Medal of Honor winner Joe Foss started the unit back in 1946.

For those who aren't familiar, Joe was a bigger-than-life person who lived a life so full of superlatives, I won't even try to list them. In fact, just click here.

However, in 2002, I asked Joe for an interview and he cheerfully agreed with the caveat that I provide prints of his Grumman F4F fighter plane to be used as a fundraiser for the NRA. Sure. Easy enough.

When given the Air Guard commission, I dug up the tape from the interview and was at once thrilled to relive the moment and astonished at what I didn't think to ask the man. (sigh) Oh, I've got the combat stories. But now, nearly ten years later, there's so much more that I want to know about life, business, America, history...and who better to ask than a guy who lived it all to the HILT.

And all I could think about was dogfights. Like I wrote, if I could do it over!*

Each new day, I grow more convinced that our nation, our society isn't so much in an economic or cultural crisis as we are in a Wisdom crisis. We've done it to ourselves with things like "retirement" and the franchising of the family to ridiculous schedules and urgent expectations...

Oh well. Watch this blog because I'll be posting progress on Joe's F-51 fighter plane - the one he flew while pioneering South Dakota's aerial force. And, in spite of my amateur attempt, I have a few more clips to share, too.

*Joe died shortly after this interview on January 1, 2003. He aged pretty well from his auspicious start in 1942.

Profile 46 - "Satan's Chill'en" as flown by W. Mannix and "Dick" Rostrom

2011-05-14T09:54:00.000-07:00

Satan's Chill'en is alive. I have much to write about this airplane, but the bulk will wait.

Two weeks ago, Dick Rostrom was leaning over a draft of his old aerial office, trying - at least to me - to hold back a wry smile and perhaps the satisfied laugh that comes from seeing something good.

My artwork "good"? No. It was the memory. Next to the airplane was a printout of an unpublished photo of the crew - Dick's finger tapping on the jackets of each man, recalling his name and the role he'd played aboard the bomber. "...and there's Thompson. Radio Operator. He saved my life. And there's..."

Until he got to the man in charge - Satan's Chill'en's pilot, William C. Mannix. There, Dick's finger hovered for a moment, then tapped. And tapped. A few seconds passed, the bombardier's eyes fixed on the photo, momentarily lost to the present... "and that's Mannix. He was our pilot. And he..." Tap tap tap tap. "And he was a good one. A good leader. A good..."

You know, I started this blog post fully intending on writing about the half-naked girl on the nose but Dick's distinct memory of Mannix took precedent.

And therein lies the incredible experience that the study of History provides those who care. Watching Dick go back in time over a forgotten photo, remembering the positive influences in his life, sharing them with me, is gawd-damned priceless.

I fear our culture's reliance on entertainment has perforated our value of History, punching out the human substance, leaving a skeleton of dates and places. Thanks to Dick and so many others, I can never look at a WW2 warbird without thinking of the pilots, the crew, what happened 'after the war'...

And there I go off on a tangent! Let's focus on the pinup! (laughs)

When I started this bird, I had poor photographic reference of the topless devil-woman - a small black and white photo with no color, no definition, no detail. Darn. ;)

Well, the response to my call for help in figuring out what "she" really looked like was fantastic. Little bits from around the world trickled, adding suggestive peeks until a relative of one of the gunners emailed, "My wife still has her dad's bomber jacket with the girl on the back."

SCORE!

The only thing worse than my artwork of airplanes is my artwork of PEOPLE. Especially nude women. Remember, I started sketching airplanes as a pre-schooler. Having teachers crab about my doodling of warbirds on homework was bad enough. Practicing pinups as a 3rd grader would have undoubtedly charted a different history for me!

Anyway.

With the jacket photo and the new crew photo, I was able to piece together a plausible rendering of Satan's girlfriend enough to finish the piece. For those of you who are interested in purchasing a signed print, realize this - most of her is hiding behind the engine cowling. I know, I know...

To Dick, the prurient parts are all but forgotten. But the memories of those he served alongside remain clear. "Let me tell you another story about Mannix. What kind of a guy he was. See, we were..."

Tap tap tap.

Thank you to R.C. for taking the time to photograph the jacket.

Oh. One more thing. Mannix is the short guy, middle of the back row, under the engine. Dick is on the left, squatting down, first row.

Profile 44 - "28" as flown by Harold Thune

2011-04-23T01:48:00.000-07:00

And there it is. "28" - a workaday F6F-5 as flown by Lt. Harold Thune of the USS Intrepid, circa Fall, 1944.

Yesterday morning, Harold signed prints of my hack, passing them down the table to his son, a US Senator, where he too penciled his name.

But the star of this moment was not Senator John Thune. Nor was it me. Nor was it Harold. It was the camera man from the local TV station who had shown up to document the event. For whatever it's worth, I dedicate this print of Harold's Hellcat to...him.

If you were there, you would have seen what you'd have expected from the office of a US Senator - polished people of profession and poise - laughing at the right places, shaking hands with appropriate grip and confidence. It was all authentic, but still tinged with the superficialities that come from position and power.

Then the TV guy showed up. One man, carrying two heavy tripods, a camera and a day full of other stops to make. He set up, turned on the camera and documented every moment of my self-importance and Harold's self-effacing recollection of his part in history.

Though it was a short interview, Harold articulated the values of his time & tide with the wisdom that can only come from 91 years. He signed his prints, "thanks" were sprayed liberally around the room...

...and the camera guy said "Thank you. For winning."

Sweet jimminy, his words stopped me cold.

Thank. You. For. Winning.

If I'd been a little less star-struck by having a US Senator and his WW2 Fighter Pilot father signing my paltry art, I would have turned the camera on him.

See...about twenty minutes before, Harold began describing an aerial victory. His hands pantomiming the dogfight - the Japanese fighter speeding under Harold's stall-climb and the split-second push of the control stick that dropped the Hellcat's nose, bringing 6 .50 cal machine guns to bear with predictable result. Machine aflame, the enemy pilot climbed out onto the wing and prepared to leap clear of certain doom.

Harold had a choice to make and you know what that choice was.

If anything comes from my time with these old guys it will be this - that the study of human History is a mystery. I have a more satisfying time wondering what color dinosaurs were than reconciling human behavior.

Harold said the oft-quoted line, "War is hell." But he said it with the choke and gulp of someone who's earned the right to say it. Hollywood can script it, but Harold knows. As a History teacher himself, Harold knows full well the in-congruencies of things like American Freedom and the expansion that ruined Native America. Of Western empire building versus Japanese empire building. Of two guys who happened to be fighter pilots, one flying a plane with a white star on its wing, the other a red circle.

Kill him? Kill the - as the line goes - "yellow bastard"?*

Nope. Harold did not fire. The Japanese pilot tumbled away, snatched from momentary death by the snap of a parachute while his defeated machine arced to its doom, trailing smoke and fire.

Every day, I become more of a Patriot. I'm in awe of the American Constitution, Bill of Rights and Declaration of Independence. And every day, I become more convinced that the soul is far sharper than the sword.

I too am thankful that Harold "won."

Are you?

*Harold never used the term. In fact, I've never heard an American WW2 pilot call the Japanese "yellow bastards." I think the line was used more in propaganda films than anywhere else, save for hand-to-hand combat and anyone who survives that can say anything he/she wants.

If you find this stuff half as fun as I do, we're all having a ball.

Profile 47 - "1" as flown by Lt. Ted Hutchins

2011-04-17T12:25:00.000-07:00

Done! Sort of. I'm not happy with the wing and I might redo it. But for now, I'm content to put "1" up for readers to see/read about this machine and the man that flew her.

In case you're new to all-things-OS2U, the Chance Vought "Kingfisher" was a seaplane charged with the job of "Observation" hence the "O." The particular airplane above, BuNo (Serial Number) 01487 flew from the battleship USS South Dakota. Launched from a gun-powder charged catapult, this little machine buzzed above, serving as the Fleet's aerial eye, helping target the 'big guns' and spotting enemy submarines.

But, what I think is especially cool about this airplane is its additional role in recovering lost pilots.

I can vividly imagine the sensation of being adrift in the ocean, rising and falling with the swells of gray, working at keeping alive in an utterly unhuman environment. Having been scared senseless by the movie Jaws, the Unknown swimming beneath my paddling feet adds to a feeling of helplessness. Ok, terror.

Until...the blat of an airplane engine, bouncing across the water's surface provides the heart-leaping word that becomes everything in moments of hopelessness - Rescue.

I then think about Ted, alighting on the waves in a spray of salt water, motoring to the dirty yellow speck of life raft, or inflatable vest and cutting the engine, letting inertia, wind and wave push him to the once-lost man. Rescue!

On one such mission, Ted had to step out onto the airplane's wing and haul up a pilot who had barely energy to stay afloat, let alone climb up into the rear cockpit.

Can you imagine how rewarding such work must have been?! To be the heart, hands and face of one who saves another?!

An emergency room doc told me, "(my work) doesn't get any more 'real.' It's the human experience in its most urgent." I bet Ted felt the same way. In fact, in a few days, I'll be interviewing Ted formally - and I'll ask him just that. Of course, I'll let you know what he says on my website.

But in the meantime, I hope this airplane...and the photos below inspire you to think about those people who play the role of Rescuer in modern life.

Special thank you to Tom Fallon and Rick Lingberg for providing me the opportunity to document this airplane and her very cool pilot.

Also, do yourself a favor and visit the website of the USS South Dakota. Rick Lingberg and his team have worked hard to create a satisfying digital monument to the most decorated capital ship in American history.

NOTE: Airplane geeks will notice the gray rudder and think, "Hey! That's not a standard paint job!" Well, the USS South Dakota went through two Pacific storms in December of 1944, damaging the exposed airplanes. The Kingfishers were repaired at the depot on the island of Ulithi using standard, primer-painted spare parts. This illustration shows Ted's airplane in between repair and the point in time where the ship's maintenance crew found time to bring the airplane up to standard.

Progress - Profile 46 (Satan's Chille'n) and Profile 47 (#1 - OS2U Kingfisher)

2011-04-10T07:40:00.000-07:00

Two airplanes at once is proving to be difficult and I don't quite like it. I enjoy the feeling of focusing on one airplane - after finishing Rostrom's B-17 and Ted's Kingfisher, it's back to one-at-a-time.

However, a loyal reader has asked to see more of my sketchwork, so I'm attaching two pages from my journal - one from April 3 while I was at church, the other done yesterday while at one of those "all day" business training/management events.

So, here you go, Reader from Phoenix, Arizona - a "ballpoint pen" of Satan's Chille'n releasing her payload over a Nazi-held target and a pencil study of an OS2U-3 Kingfisher and some random notes that have nothing to do with the seminar.

And to another reader who is interested in Rostrom's B-17, it's below - the wing has yet to be masked in, the turrets are barely started and I haven't begun the Plexiglas at all. I give it 60% finished.

"1" - Hutchin's Kingfisher - is still in sketch-phase.

But, I do have something to share about Ted Hutchins, Kingfisher pilot. The photo below is of Ted (right) and an unknown (to date) pilot that Ted snatched* from the Pacific.

Imagine what it must have been floating in the expanse of the ocean, in a waterlogged flight suit, suspended above the unknown depths by the thin rubber of a life raft. Marine ace and Medal of Honor recipient Joe Foss described the sensation to me as feeling, "very small."

Judging from the smiles on the two pilot's faces, I have to think that Ted Hutchins had extremely rewarding work in WW2, don't you think?

Photo: U.S. Navy Archives, Ted Hutchins

*In case you're unfamiliar, the OS2U Kingfisher that Ted flew was a "float plane" able to be catapulted from ships and also able to land/take-off from the water. Though designed to perform Observation work for the fleet, the Kingfisher was also used as a Rescue aircraft, picking up aircrew and seamen adrift in the ocean.

Profile 47 - Chance Vought Kingfisher

2011-04-04T15:25:00.000-07:00

First, would I do this for a living? I mean - real living?

Damn right. Gawd, I love this part of American history and...you should too.

This morning, I started out having breakfast with a medic assigned to McArthur's "return" to the Philippines circa 1944. Then, a new acquaintance let me know that a pilot assigned to the USS South Dakota (battleship) was not only alive but had sold his Harley last year. Would he like to have his plane memorialized for all digital-eternity?

Hell yeah.

So, I guess Satan's Chille'n and Lt. Ted Hutchins' Chance Vought OS2U Kingfisher are now BOTH on the drawing board.

Put the coffee pot on "full throttle." I'm not sleeping for a while.

Anyway, in the words of my buddy Lt. John Forrette who served in the Philippines circa 1944-45, "History doesn't sleep."

Watch this space - it's going to be awesome.

PHOTO: National Archives

PS - no kidding, as this is being typed, my kid is scratching the American anthem on his violin. It sounds awful but...is wonderful at the same time.

PSS - here's my first sketch!

Profile 46 - More of Satan's Chille'n (update)

2011-03-31T21:16:00.000-07:00

My call for help in capturing the half-naked pinup girl painted on Satan's Chille'n was as expected - so, thank you to those who helped with the "research." (ha ha). But suffice it to state, until we have a Time Machine, I'm confident enough that this B-17's nose art is going to be accurate. Shown is my progress as of 10:32pm this evening.

I'm now giving the countdown for about 2 weeks. One more progress post after this and I hope to have it finished!

Did you watch the video of Dick - Satan's Chille'n's bombardier - describe a particularly interesting bomb-run? If not, scroll down.

However, I thought you might like to see what Dick looked like back in 1944 when he was undoubtedly one of the best bombardiers in the 8th Air Force. At least good enough to fly as lead bombardier in 15 of his 30 combat missions.

This is a good time for a bit of explanation. Just because a young man sat in the nose and had his finger on "the button," it didn't mean he was a "Bombardier." The term describes a Role more than a Function.

Bombardiers were men who had the gift of control over their Norden branded bomb sites, the ability to fly the bomber during the last twenty or so miles to the target and of course, put the pickle in the pickle barrel. From 20,000+ feet.

These Bombardiers were the men who aimed for the Squadron. The rest of the men in the noses of their respective B-17s watched the Lead Plane and waited until they saw the stack of death fall away, then punch their own buttons. These 'rest of the men' were called "Toggliers."

The reason? For one, there weren't enough Norden bomb sites to equip EVERY bomber in combat. Plus, these bomb sites were considered a Top Secret weapon. Bombardiers were commanded to shoot the eyepiece out of their Norden in the event they were to crash land - or even bail out - in case the device would end up in the hands of the enemy.

But also, the Army Air Force had spent a terrific amount of time analyzing bomb blast patterns and concluded that the best results were obtained with one man leading, the others following. In short, the Bombardier was the guy, the master that signaled the Squadron to drop their terrifying load onto the target.

I asked Dick why he thought he was such a good Bombardier and he replied, "I gave that task my all! I wanted to!"

One thing I've learned from talking with old guys, is this - a vital ingredient to success is Passion. Today, Dick still gets animated describing how he would mentally prepare to lead the Squadron on the run, even when not flying. To Dick, success isn't so much about Luck or Skill as it is Desire.

Anyway, back to that picture of Dick circa'44 - he's the second from the left. When I see him, I see the same nervous energy, the same restless motion that I know today. He still walks faster than a few teenagers I know and last week, he let me know that his car will top 100mph, "easy!"

More to come...

Profile 46 - Satan's Chillen update

2011-03-20T16:56:00.000-07:00

Regarding the picture above - on the left is my wretched pencil-work of the nose art of Satan's Chille'n. The boxing "bomber-dude" didn't appear on the airplane - it's actually the 613th Bomb Squadron mascot - I just scribbled it for something to do.

On the right, however, is a 401st BG photo of what the art really-might-have looked like. No photo of the specific B-17 is known to exist; only this nearly-70 year old photo of someone's flight-jacket, which may or may not have been anything like what it actually looked on the bomber*.

The struggle for capturing the correct nose art for "Satan's Chillen" continues - I'm lost in the 21st Century haze of fading memories, lack of documentation and imagination. This sucks because I understand that each post establishes itself into the digital record.

So, to the folks of 2050, I'm doing the best I can. Sometimes I have to punt. So, I'm moving forward on "Satan's Chillen'" knowing that no photograph of the actual bird is known to exist and likely will never come to light.

In the meantime, Satan's Chillen's bombardier has a story to tell. In this time of bombing Libya, bear in mind that back in WW2, there were no "Cruise Missiles" or single-pilot jets guided by a team of digital genius. Nope. WW2 was low-tech, guys in windows, looking over the precipice of a bombsight with a finger on a mechanical switch.

I hope you listen to the bombardier tell (in the words of my kid), "A funny story." - click below:

*Dick said the jacket art was "very close" to what actually appeared on his B-17G. But without a photograph, we just. Can't. Tell. For. Sure.

Profile 46 - "Satan's Chillen"

2011-03-08T20:45:00.000-08:00

I couldn't bear the previous paltry sketch, so I fleshed out the study a bit tonight. These little pencil sketches are important to me because they help train my mind for the airplane's proportions.

Bombers have never been my 'thing.' Temperament-wise, I can't imagine the idea of riding along in what is essentially a military bus, stuck to my office. Sitting or standing for a 3, 4, 5, 6 hour mission is hard to fathom, don't you think?

There's an interesting analog between a WW2 bomber and many people's work environment - their cubicle, their office, is their position. Pilot, bombardier, gunner, navigator...CEO, Director, Sales, Marketing... More than once, I've thought about this while driving the family in the mini-van; the grocery store is the target, the kids are the gunners (usually shooting each other) and my wife, the navigator and bombardier.

"We forgot the milk! Back to Target!" (ha ha)

Amused? I am. Until I remember just how thin the aluminum skin on a B-17 was. And I remember the recollections of those who remember seeing the telltale flickers of the wing and nose guns mounted on the German fighters. And how holes would suddenly appear in the airplane as flak and cannon fire sliced out chunks the bomber's flesh. Or crew's.

Maybe that's how some people feel about their offices these days - wondering if a layoff or firing is going to happen.

Maybe I'm being too philosophical. But, as Satan's Chillen comes to life here, expect more as I share the story of her particularly successful bombardier as he describes his, well - job - in a way you've never heard before.

That's him - far left, kneeling, first row.

Crew photo courtesy 401st Bombardment Group Association

Profile 46 - "Satan's Chillen"

2011-03-08T09:21:00.000-08:00

The study sketch above is of a B-17G that flew with the 401st Bomb Group based at Deenethorpe, Northhamptonshire, England. Specifically, the bomber belonged to the 613th Squadron. But, if you're really, really into the details, her serial number was 43-37706 and was accepted into the U.S. Army Air Force inventory on May 13, 1944.

Today, all that's left of this bomber resides in the minds of her two surviving air crew, pilot Lt. William Mannix and bombardier, "Dick" Rostrom.

The closest I've gotten to the bomber's pilot was a scratchy phone call to Mannix's wife - her husband was not feeling well and she didn't want to wake him. Life got haywire for me and...I've lost his phone number. Damnit. I have no idea if he's even alive right now.

But, I know Dick pretty well. He and I have talked alot, traveled a bit... if you'd like to know more, stay tuned. "Satan's Chillen" is about to crank -

CLEAR!

Blue skies, Bob Goebel (Profile 25).

2011-02-21T16:58:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, Lt. Col. Robert Goebel, double-ace (11 victories) of the 31st FG, died at his California home.

Bob was one of the first pilots I interviewed. He gave me gracious encouragement as well as his time.

He was an unusually articulate guy - careful in speech, erudite, intellectual. He absolutely shattered my prior (ignorant) ideal that an Ace was necessarily a tough-talking, brassy hot shot. No, Bob Goebel was a right-minded gentleman of the first order. He also possessed a strong positivity about the youth of America and their potential for growing our Nation.

Upon hearing of his death, I scrounged through my notes to find something worth passing onto readers and impressing into the digital archive.

The following was Bob's response to my question about what life was like before WW2.

The country in the late 30’s and early 40’s was a different place than it is today. It was a slower paced, simpler life where one’s reputation and personal responsibility were very important. Young people just didn’t bring disgrace to the neighborhood or to one’s family by getting kicked out of school or being talked to by the police. Of course after Pearl Harbor, there was a kind of national euphoria among young people who knew they were poised on the edge of a great personal adventure in whatever Service they were destined for.

If you'd like to know more about Bob, click here. In the meantime, wherever Bob has landed in the hereafter has just experienced a bump in property value...and no one is complaining.

Oh - his book, Mustang Ace is available on Amazon. Click here.

Profile 45 - "Flak Shak" as flown by many.

2011-01-28T12:50:00.000-08:00

Flak Shak is done. Almost. I might mask in a Browning .50 cal in the waist-gunner's spot if I have time before I have to get it off to the printer. But, "life" for me right now has sifted all of my available time right out from under. Hopefully, tail gunner Robert Hickman will sign the prints some time in the next few weeks. He's the surviving crewman of the airplane.

Throughout the research, working on the art, talking to family and learning from 485th BG historian, Jerry Whiting, my thoughts toward Flak Shak bounced between the dramatic extremes of loss and victory. This big bomber is a small symbol of war's terror, horror, power and grit.

I'm at a loss for words to describe Flak Shak's combat life. But I have to try.

You're looking at an airplane that, on June 28, 1944, was the last stand for ten men over Romania. It's shown here for you to view as it was the morning of that day. By days end, it would not be so pristine.

Over the course of it's mission - and its lead position in the formation - no fewer than eight Luftwaffe fighters would take their turn, spraying cannon and machine gun fire into the bomber, slicing skin of both man and machine.

The duel began en route to the target when bombardier John Dempsey took a hit (from flak or German fighters, no one is sure) in the leg, splitting the bone. But, as lead plane in the formation, Flak Shak was the que for the others to toggle their payload. Dempsey held himself together through the run to ensure that its job was successfully completed.

Having a crippled crewman totally changed the already charged atmosphere within the airplane - imagine ten people on an RV trip and one is on the floor, bleeding from such a wound, and the nearest hospital exit 90 minutes away.

Now imagine that RV being then pounced upon by raiders with cannon and machine guns, raking it from stem to stern...

For some reason known only to the Fates, eight German Bf-109s selected Flak Shak for destruction, making pass after pass, firing into the bomber - hot splinters, fist-sized holes appearing like demonic magic in the wing, tail, fuselage - the howl of wind, the roar of engines and the muffled pain of two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine crewmen, clutching from their fresh wounds...

But.

The crew of Flak Shak fought back.

Six of the enemy fighters were shot down. To get your head around this, that meant that the gunners stayed in their positions and held their resolve with enough cool to not only hit but destroy their attackers.

For those who may not be so familiar, the job of a gunner on a flying, bouncing WW2 bomber was especially challenging. It wasn't like the Alamo where the defenders shot from stationary positions. Instead, Flak Shak's gunners were firing at fast moving targets from a moving position. Like duck hunting from a circling boat.

The only explanation for the high victory count I can conceive is that the Germans were coming in awfully close and were especially confident that THIS pass was the one that would finally - finally - bring Flak Shak down.

But.

Flak Shak didn't go down. At least out of defeat. The pilot and co-pilot brought the maimed bomber to a short strip, forward airfield in Bari, Italy where it skidded to a dusty halt. Sweet Lord - those first few seconds of realization that "we made it home" must have been dead quiet. A moment of unearthly silence before the clank of boots, opening bomb bay doors* and the clamor of medics rushing to do their work...

Over 500 holes were counted but the decision was moot - Flak Shak would never fly again. Yet, every crewman survived the mission.

At the end of this post, you can read the official Silver Star Citation. I hope you do - the austere military verbiage lends a certain air to the crew's deed that I can't.

Below, the crew of Flak Shak shortly after their Silver Star presentation circa Sept 2, 1944. Ironically, they were posed in front another B-24 named after the magazine, LIFE.

Front Row, Left to Right: Kenneth Leasure, navigator; Volney Wiggins, pilot, and Matthew Hall, copilot. Back Row, Left to Right: Ed Hartupee, ballgunner; Virgil Anderson, top gunner; Francis Brittain Jr., nosegunner, and Robert Hickman, tailgunner. (Missing from the photo are John P. Dempsey, bombardier; Martin J. Caine, radio operator, and Wilson B. Shimer, engineer.) The missing crew members were still in the hospital from wounds. Matt Hall was later killed on a 9/13/44 mission to Oswiecim, Poland.

I'm still at a loss for words.

*Entry into a B-24 was commonly done through the bomb bay door.

Special thanks to Jerry Whiting, 485th BG, and the families of Virgil Anderson (top gunner) and Robert Hickman (tail gunner).

Profile 45 - "Flak Shak" as flown by Capt. V. Wiggins...and crew

2011-01-21T17:59:00.000-08:00

Don't let the appearance of slow progress fool you - "Flak Shak" is coming along nicely! However, the progress is not so much the artwork as it is the research.

Look at the tail. See that cross of two yellow bands? Aside from the fact that it looks like "Racer X" of the Japanese cartoon, "Speed Racer," it was also a major head-scratcher for me. Judging from the handful of good photos of 485th BG B-24s, the position of the intersection seemed to jump forward and backward from plane to plane.

But, I noticed that some of the bombers had their de-icing panels removed (?!), leaving the aluminum leading edges. This created an optical illusion, fooling the casual glance into thinking the "X" was off center when it really wasn't. When Flak Shak is finished, you'll see how the extra foot or so of aluminum leading-edge puts the cross point in the middle of the tail, where any self-respecting ground crewman would have put it.

That discovery doesn't make Flak Shak any easier. The airplane has a handful of other quirks relating to its markings that will bear themselves out. As in no visible serial number. Hmmm.

However, I thought you'd like to see another shot of Flak Shak after she landed her historic mission. Look closely at the holes under the waist window and surrounding the American insignia. They coorrespond with the firing angle of one of the ten or so Bf-109s that attacked the bomber - seven o'clock level.

Imagine this - you're crouched behind the black breech of a single .50 calibre machine gun, sweating so much, the nervous liquid weeps out of your fleece-lined gloves.

Someone just called out "Fighter - seven o'clock" over the intercom and you pick up on the slim black fingernail banking into the attack just under the left rudder.

Dry mouth, panting, you pull the blade-like trigger and the Browning shakes and roars, spewing spent casings onto the floor of your bomber and copper headed bullets like a garden hose at full crank.

Staccato flashes blink from the Messerschmitt's nose...

BANG!

An explosion at your feet sprays shards of supersonic metal...and for thinnest slice of time, you have no idea what on earth just happened...

...something feels warm, then cold upon your skin...

Just wait.

Photo courtesy of the family of Virgil Anderson, crewman, Flak Shak.

Profile 45 - "Flak Shak" as flown by Capt. V. Wiggins...and crew.

2011-01-10T20:40:00.000-08:00

The dynamics of a bomber crew are life in microcosm. Inside the metal-skinned tube, a team of people work, each with their role, their function - a flying cell in the larger organism (formation) of others like it.

Most people understand that the romance of a tightly bound "band of brothers" that live, breathe and die together is more Hollywood than Reality. True enough, I've heard of fights breaking out inside cockpits, pilots 'firing' crew members and stories of plane old boredom on long, arduous flights.

Then, there are the rare stories - thankfully rare - that stop you cold; drama and determination that would be utterly exhausting for even the most imaginative script writer to convey to the reader. "Flak Shak" is one such story.

This airplane came to my attention purely by accident. Having met the surviving son of a 485th BG crewman, he described the legend of a particular airplane within the Group named "Flak Shak" and how each of her ten crew was awarded the Silver Star for gallantry on June 28, 1944 during a mission to Romania.

Right now, I'm in correspondence with family & crew, hoping to bring this particular B-24 H back to virtual life. My sketch above is crude, but will form the basis of what I hope to be as close to perfect of a Profile as possible.

In the meantime, have another look at the picture in the post below. See if you can discern the battle damage. There's more to come...

Profile 45 - "FLAK SHAK"

2011-01-08T15:07:00.000-08:00

I'm waiting for Harold Thune to bless my rendering of his Hellcat.

With my bit of free time, this morning, I responded to an email regarding a B-24 Liberator that caught my breath...

Watch this space. "Flak Shak" is about to take life...and oh, what a life she had!

Photo courtesy of the family of Virgil Anderson, crewman, Flak Shak.

Profile 44 - Another update to Thune's Hellcat

2010-12-22T11:20:00.000-08:00

Another update! Perhaps this will hold some interest while waiting for help with the markings from the USS Intrepid Air, Sea and Space Museum. Once I get those, there's probably another 2, 3 hours before it's finished and I can send it off to the printer. Can you tell the difference between this one and the one in the prior post?

However, this Hellcat promises to be one of my best yet. And still, time will reveal that there are parts to Harold's airplane that are plane wrong. Pun intended. But for now, I'm pleased and am hoping to be close to Malcomb Gladwell's "10,000 hour" mark. (Read Outliers).

The picture below is Hamilton McWhorter, a Navy ace of 12 aerial victories. He's holding a hastily printed copy of my version of the Hellcat he flew from the USS Randolph in 1945. I did it in 2002 and frankly, the practice since then has improved my skill. To that point, last month, a Florida collector purchased the formal print and I spent a half hour making little touchups with a soft lead pencil! The collector was pleased but I sure wish I could do Mac's plane over.

Practice may make perfect, but the time in between is corrupt. Mac died two years ago.

There are some very cool things about this avocation and some very cruel as well.

Profile 44 - UPDATED! F6F-5 Hellcat as flown by Harold Thune

2010-12-17T21:01:00.000-08:00

Wow! From pencil studies to nearly finished in five days - that's a record for me.

This 'Cat is going back into the hanger until I get info on markings - hopefully in the next week or so. Then, I'll put them in, quite like the real process when a factory-fresh Hellcat obtained her squadron marks.

Something to think about in the meantime - Harold is about 88 years old now. In the span of his life, he's experienced economic calamity and boom, world war, travel to outer space...and four BILLION people added to earth's current occupancy.

I don't want to wax philosophical here - I do it badly anyway. But, in 1920, the earth's estimated population was 2 billion. Today, it's over 6 billion. What that means to us, at least to me, is this - soon the cumulative wisdom and energy of Harold's Generation will likely be absorbed into humanity and dissipated. Like steam. And it seems so...much like a waste.

Today, Harold's son - a United States Senator - is tasked with representing his state in all issues of American policy, including the profoundly far-reaching issue of Social Security for the elderly.

Politically, my views are unimportant. But I do believe in activism and I encourage my generation to become active in the Social Security issue by doing one thing - connect with them . Invite, engage, consult, but know that relationships with people who've already trodden our Roads Less Traveled is vital to the social fabric.

On one hand, the above airplane is just a drawing. But on the other, it's an excuse to ask deeper questions, interpret the past and cast a clearer vision of the future.

[laughs] I'll get off the soapbox. However, it's a good time to think about this stuff, especially if Grandma/Grandpa are going to be a part of your Holiday experience. With some good luck, the next post will be Thune's finished airplane, excerpts from my interview and a few cool artifacts, too. I hope to make it worth your time. :)

Profile 44 - F6F-5 as flown by Lt. Harold Thune

2010-12-16T12:06:00.000-08:00

I decided to do Harold's -5 Hellcat, though still waiting for info on the markings.

The cowl is grafted onto my pencil sketch for two reasons - one, I think it looks cool to see the pencil sketch come to life this way. Two, it shows how spot-on accurate my sketch was. Yahoo - the blind squirrel found a nut! (laughs).

The dark blue is a wicked color, however. In real life, it was almost black. When working with such, there's an ever-present temptation to add excessive "weathering" details like chipped paint because of the difficulty in showing contour and texture.

I'll refrain, however, for the simple reason that Navy planes typically didn't experience the visual wear & tear more common to ground-bound Marine and Army Air Force aircraft. I think artists and modelers tend to get a little too romantic with the hard-wear, but that's another topic. Thune's Hellcat will show a wee bit of sun-bleaching, maybe a chip or two, but for the most part, it'll represent the typical look of a hard working Navy fighter.

However, the Pratt&Whitney R2800 engine did throw a bit of greasy exhaust and my next challenge will be managing the engine's 2000hp belches of smoke and oil.

Stay tuned. :)

Profile 44 - Grumman F6F-? as flown by Lt. Harold Thune

2010-12-14T21:24:00.000-08:00

While waiting on some information on exactly which of Harold Thune's F6F to do, I decided to do the quick pencil study above to get into the Hellcat vibe. This one is a "-5" model - my notes are to contrast it with the -3 variant.

Anyway, the sketch above took me, maybe, at most...three minutes. Just look - nothing to it! No complex curves, just straight lines and the flat face of a warehouse boxer. But, it also occurred to me that the features that made the Hellcat easy to sketch hinted at why the airplane was a brilliant business decision for Grumman and the U.S. Navy back in 1942.

If you're an airplane geek, the Hellcat legend is fairly well known. It had the highest victory:loss ratio of any Naval fighter plane - 19:1. According to pilots, the F6F was gentle to fly, well armored, powerfully armed and almost as nimble as its main adversary, the lithe Mitsubishi A6M "Zero." I sat in one and was impressed with the roominess of the cockpit and good visibility in spite of the high-back fuselage.

Back to those easy-to-draw points - in mass production, straight lines mean easier assembly, less complicated jig systems and rapidity of construction. To that point, I read that of the 12,000+ Hellcats built, 11,000 were built in the last two years of production. Grumman must have been pumping Hellcats out like water. By the time the assembly line shut down, the Hellcat was just under $40,000 a piece, making it the cheapest of the major American fighters in WW2.

Today, Hellcats are scarce with only a handful or so flying. The last I heard, one of those are worth about $2-3 million dollars.

The next post should show progress on Thune's specific airplane.

Profile 44 - Harold Thune's F6F

2010-12-12T18:14:00.000-08:00

Last month, I announced to my wife, "No more airplanes for a long while." Funny how things work because the ears of Fate must have remembered a comment I made to Steve Heffernan, a historian at the Naval Air Museum in Pensacola, FL.

Steve's a native South Dakotan and rightfully proud of his home-state's representation in Washington D.C., Senator John Thune. He and I were standing in the Naval Air Museum's expansive, Indiana-Jones like warehouse when he pointed to a city-block long rack of cardboard boxes filled with WW2 flight records and announced, "Have you done Thune's dad's Hellcat? His flight records are up there somewhere..."

I replied, "No. Should I?" Steve gave me a "Duh!" look and commanded, "Yes, you should!" Unfortunately, in the blur of the moment (I WAS in one of the Nirvana's of aviation archeology, so things were rather distracting), I forgot my promise shortly afterwards.

11 months later, a newspaper called to get some insight into the 69th Anniversary of Pearl Harbor (why they asked ME, I have no freaking idea) and the reporter asked, "Have you met Senator John Thune's dad, Harold?"

Blink! I remembered my promise and admitted such to the reporter who promptly got me in touch with Thune's office. One week later, I'm meeting with the Senator's aides, discussing how to get the elder's records to accurately reproduce Harold's Cat.

And so, I've begun the project of capturing the F6F flown by Lt. Harold Thune of VF-18 (Intrepid). The scan above is my pencil sketch study I made this weekend while snowbound during a camping trip. The Senator's office and I are researching the airplane that Harold flew during a fateful mission in Fall of 1944 where Harold downed 4 Japanese airplanes.

Watch this space - it promises to be a cool story, with lots of interesting details that you wouldn't normally get to see.

I guess I spoke too soon about "laying off the airplanes."

Profile 43 - "315" as flown by Lt. David Carey

2010-10-26T19:13:00.000-07:00

Though it needs a few more highlights (to knock down the gray), this is a reasonable-enough rendering of Lt. David Carey's A-4E Skyhawk. The one he was flying when shot down over North Vietnam, August 31, 1967.

Growing up as a little kid, I had these impressions of the Vietnam War - Charles Manson, Hippies sitting in parks, Walter Cronkite, jungles, helicopters and Richard Nixon. Don't analyze the package - it was just my tiny brain processing the news.

And all the talk. Vietnam bad, Vietnam good.

And this pin that my mom wore. It read, "POWs never have a nice day" the words ringing a frowning face. To me, at age 5, I wondered what that meant. No Christmas? Oatmeal all the time? Did they sleep on rocks? Were they beat up?

So, fast forwarding to a day when a friend of mine said that he knew a Naval Aviator who'd been shot down and survived as a POW, I wondered what his "never a nice day" experience was like. Armed with his phone number, I called Dave, told him I drew airplanes and casually promised to draw his some day. In answer to my question, he sent me his book, "The Ways We Choose."

That was about seven years ago. Though I don't quite think he was pining for me to finish, Dave did wait too long for me to fulfill a promise.

I won't - I can't - summarize the book here. It's more than a blow-by-blow recollection of the infamous Hanoi Hilton. On top of the facts of nearly 6 years of imprisonment, Dave writes about the psychology of change and positive adaptation to negative circumstances. Today, he counsels businesses and organizations on how to endure and grow despite their arena.

Though I remain, for now, fixated on the era of propellor-driven aircraft, this A-4E was a welcome challenge and an honor to someone who truly turned a "...never nice day" into success for himself and many, many others.

Fantastic!

So looking forward...

2010-09-09T06:22:00.000-07:00

Readers: work on Dave's A4 will resume shortly! And believe it or not, the first print is spoken for (crazy to trust in the final outcome at this stage, but that's the passion people have for this airplane for ya).

Profile 43 - "315" as flown by Lt. David Carey

2010-07-25T15:10:00.000-07:00

Well, there it is. The fuselage. Sort of.

The stencils were added early to help me get a grip around the Skyhawk's subtle curves. So too were the interior cockpit highlights.

My references - so far - are a "walk around" book on the A-4 series, a drawing done by an unknown artist and a 1/48 scale model. And each one is frustratingly different. Frankly, I don't know what panel line to trust.

Oh well - the tail/rudder will come next, along with masking in the wing, elevator and tailpipe assembly.

I'm still 30 days from completion...

Profile 43 - 315 as flown by Lt. David Carey

2010-07-18T19:51:00.000-07:00

Update -

Well, so far, I've "Thrown out and started over" 3 times. I'm barely hanging onto this version.

In case you're curious, see that tail? It "makes" the A-4's lines. In the pencil studies, I continually draw it too small and swept-back, like a Grumman F-11 Tiger. The real-deal's tail is tall and wide, visually 'too-big' for the compact, stunt-plane like lines.

However, when (sometimes it seems like 'if') this one gets finished, I'm sure the point of contention will not be the airplane itself but those stencils painted all over the airplane.

So far, there are at six different ways to write "RESCUE" or "DANGER" or "WARNING" in a 1960's vintage NAVY fighter. Some have broken letters, some don't. Some arrows have a notch, some don't. Some are outlined in solid black, others a broken black line.

I'm hoping Dave has a miracle photo laying around showing exactly what the intake and cockpit stencils looked like. In the meantime, stay tuned...

Profile 43 - #315 as flown by Lt. David Carey

2010-07-11T18:39:00.000-07:00

Up until now, I haven't had the time to really focus on Dave Carey's A-4E. So, I'm sketching myself back into the groove, getting the feel for the airplane's fantastic lines. Here's my latest study. I'm not quite "there" yet.

Anyway, this is the airplane Carey was flying when he was hit by a Surface-to-Air Missile (SAM) over North Vietnam, in 1967. He ejected and began a 5 and a half year life as a Prisoner of War.

Ironically, I spent part of yesterday with former Senator George McGovern. Most remember him as a front-stage "anti-war" politico of the era. Far fewer know him as a combat pilot himself, flying B-24s over Europe in WW2.

It's too bad I couldn't have talked to them both over the same table - they're both students of leadership, of history and are patriots. Maybe some day.

But in the meantime, I look at Carey's Skyhawk with a different eye, knowing he served his nation with so much controversy back home and endured captivity under a rabid enemy.

Though #315 is a few weeks from being finished, I look forward to learning more about what makes Carey tick and representing his machine as well as I can. As a student of history, I'm grateful for the front seat.

Profile 43 - A-4E Skyhawk BuNo. 152058 AH 315

2010-05-30T15:08:00.000-07:00

Well, the airplane above is a departure.

Believe me, I have plenty of WW2 airplanes "to do." However, this Vietnam-era A4 Skyhawk is compelling.

Her pilot, Dave Carey, was shot down over North Vietnam on August 31, 1967.

You'll like this story - it's one of adaptation and temperance. Stay tuned.

Profile 42 - "02344" as flown by Jimmy Doolittle and Richard Cole

2010-04-11T21:24:00.000-07:00

Of all the airplanes I've ever done, the one above is the most...awesome. Not 'awesome' in the way Sean Penn in "Fast Times at Ridgemont High" said it. Certainly not awesome in that the art is brilliant - it's ok but not awesome.

The B-25B above is awesome because of the act of her crew.

You can do your own search for "Doolittle Raid," but here's the gist - on April 18, 1942, the United States military conducted the first assertive act against the Japanese by bombing that nation's mainland. 16 bombers with 5 crew apiece, took off from the carrier Hornet on a mission that, at its heart, was a public relations stunt to rile Japanese military leaders and give American press something heroic to write about.

On paper, the odds of real strategic success were ridiculous. 16 bombers were laughably puny, especially since the targets were spread out over the country. Enemy interception by fighters and flak were to be counted upon. Lastly, landing strips in China were primitive and would have to be found in the dark. And, much of coastal China was occupied by the Japanese.

In reality, the mission was - to use an oft-used word - suicidal.

Jimmy Doolittle, the mission's leader, was a famous pilot who'd honed his expertise in the 30's flying racers. If you know anything about pre-WW2 aviation, you'll understand why he would be called today, "an adrenalin junkie." Plus he was a scientific genius. Jimmy seemed to enjoy risk like most people enjoy breakfast.

But later, Doolittle published his biography, "I Could Never Be So Lucky Again," a title largely driven by his survival of his -as the movie stated - 30 seconds over Tokyo.

All of the B-25s crashed en-route to their landing zones, save for one that managed to land in Russia. Miraculously, "only" 5 crewmen died. Three were executed by the Japanese, one died bailing out and one died in a prison camp. A remaining three managed to make it to war-end and were liberated in August of 1945. The rest of the Raiders trickled back to Allied lines, aided at great risk by Chinese peasants, militia and soldiers.

With loss of all of the aircraft (Russia didn't give the B-25 back), ten percent casualties and pin-prick damage to the Japanese, Doolittle believed he lead a failure - with is rather surprising consider any 30's air racer knew the value of Hype because in that regard, the Doolittle Raid was HUGE.

The Japanese military leaders were incensed beyond fury and demonstrated their character through an enraged search for the crewmen, killing possibly more than two hundred thousand* Chinese in the process. On the homefront, the pay-back for Pearl Harbor was invigoratingly sweet, helping to fuel a national unity that expressed itself in a herculean materiel machine.

See why this drab bomber is so Awesome?

And I get to meet her Co-pilot, Richard Cole, in a few weeks.

I will be in awe, no doubt.

*Anyone resting in the sophistication and civility of the 21st Century is urged to read up on the Japanese occupation of China during WW2. Two things should become clear. One, Japan has made light-year strides as a nation in its effort to distance herself from the insanity of its WW2 leadership. Two, it's going to take continual effort to ensure that kind of evil won't happen again, anywhere.

Profile 42 - "02344" as flown by Jimmy Doolittle and Richard Cole

2010-04-10T08:34:00.000-07:00

Insomnia is my friend. Not. Maybe. I don't know.

Anyway, I made progress last night on Dick Cole's B-25B. At least this far! On my next sleepless night, this part will be 'masked off' and work begun on the fuselage.

The trick of this airplane is to catch the weathering accurately. A beat-up, paint chipped bomber looks cool but may not be as the airplane really was. The facts surrounding the B-25s that flew on the Doolittle Raid are such that the airplanes probably weren't all that trashed. And when an aircraft was assigned to a Crew Chief, 9/10 were notoriously retentive about the care & feeding of their planes.

However, the 'Raider's' B-25s were used. The 16 crews that flew on that extreme mission trained with their assigned aircraft from the beginning. From factory to Squadron delivery, these B-25s experienced perhaps 6 months of wear & tear. I'm working at capturing the right amount of oil stains, fading and chipping of paint...and of course the passionate service of the aircraft's ground crew.

Then again, I could just do a crumpled olive drab mangle of aluminum - every one of the Doolittle bombers were destroyed on that mission.

Stay tuned!

UPDATE: Whoops. Forgot the landing light and the words "ARMY" under the wing. Bah.

Profile 42 - "02344" as flown by Jimmy Doolittle and Richard Cole

2010-04-09T20:20:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm certainly excited about the subject of this preliminary sketch - it's the B-25B flown by Jimmy Doolittle during the April 1942 bombing raid on Japan. The sketch itself is almost laughable - at least to people who know what a B-25 looks like.

This summer, I get to meet this airplane's co-pilot, Richard Cole and need to get the bird done & printed by then. Being that I'm not too good at bombers, the work is being started early to ensure time for many re-dos.

It's late, I'm tired...and will post more about the "Doolittle Raid" and Lt. Cole as I post updates on the art. But in the event that you're reading this and not quite sure about the historic scope of this bomber, please stay tuned for a story that is over-the-top exciting.

Profile 41: "OLD CROW" as flown by Bud Anderson

2010-04-02T11:10:00.000-07:00

The relationship between pilot and crew is oft-told. You can't read an aviator's biography or watch a History Channel presentation without the pilot saying something honorable about his crew. Not to be crass or anything, but it's so common, the sentiments seem pat and cliched any more.

But - those sentiments are real.

I remember Bud getting choked up talking about the service of his Crew Chief, Sgt. Heino and Armorer Sgt. Zimmerman. It was a little uncomfortable for me, because up to that point, I'd had this impression that these guys lived compartmentalized, clenched jaw lives. Like John Wayne. To hear devotion and unashamed reliance...that was new.

Since then, I haven't met a pilot who didn't express a substantial measure of gratitude and humility towards their support people. Don Bryan, an ace with the 352nd, recalls thinking of his Crew, in combat, while firing his guns and blessing them for somehow imbuing "Little One III" with a magical engine. Mac McWhorter described the way his Hellcat always seemed so perfect that he would hate to even get it dirty...honestly, I could go on and on.

Anyway, I hope when you look at my rendering of OLD CROW you see - not just the 10 victory markings on the side of the plane - but also the airplane itself, a representation of a herculean effort. And though this may, on my part, sound cliched, I also hope your Crew (we all have one) comes to mind with the same spirit of gratitude.

PROFILE 41: "OLD CROW" update

2010-03-29T07:07:00.000-07:00

If it weren't for insomnia, I wouldn't make any progress'tall.

More than a few eyes are on this project, so I thought to post this newest update. I'll mask in a new wing later this week and make whatever changes/suggestions that Bud says need to be done.

But, I did get some input from my friend Jim, an armorer who worked on B model Mustangs in England during WW2. Unfortunately, his comments had nothing to do with the art, but with the structure of the actual airplane. Specifically, the gun mounts in the wing.

The P-51 series featured a wing design strategy that created "Laminar Flow." Without getting too geeky, on a traditional wing, turbulence between the surface and air flow creates drag at the bulky leading edge. Laminar Flow philosophy moves the thickest part of the wing back towards the middle, creating a smoother surface for air to flow across, reducing drag and maintaining efficient lift at various speeds.

With me? Yeah, I'm lost too. Just nod your head.

Anyway, this wing design made it a challenge to effectively mount the 4 .50cal Brownings within the limited space created by utilizing Laminar design theory. So, the engineers tilted the guns, lowering the height needed but also forcing the ammo belt to make a little "up and over" into the gun breeches.

These guns would fire at about 750 rounds/minute. Some more, some less. But you can imagine the the importance of having an uninterrupted, even flow of bullets. The barrels truly were 'garden hoses that sprayed lead.' Wings level, in warm air, the guns chattered just fine. But, in twisty, high-g combat at altitude, the ammo feeds would get fouled and stoppages would occur that couldn't be fixed until the pilot made it back home.

Jim explains how various Groups tried to solve this problem in the field. One took the motorized feed units from B-17 waist guns and put them into the wings (at a substantial weight penalty). But he remembers replacing feed springs, cams and actuators with items of higher tolerance. This work resulted in a feed mechanism that was less likely to deform during high-G stresses or react to the profound cold of 20,000 ft + altitude temps.

On a personal level, this info is so much more than anecdotal. Understand, the P-51B was a major weapon of war with a serious flaw solved by the acumen and ingenuity of individuals. When I hear - from the source - of a man's work, in the moment, on the spot, I get inspired that my own issues can be solved with the same application.

Cool, huh?

I'll be finished with this one in about 2-4 days. Stay tuned...

Profile 41: "OLD CROW" as flown by C.E. "Bud" Anderson

2010-03-26T20:03:00.000-07:00

3/28/10 UPDATE: I spent way, way too much time on lettering OLD CROW. And it still isn't right. So, in an effort to give me some success today, I made a little mask for the nose and created a nifty reflection on the spinner by pure accident. It's perfect!

"OLD CROW" may well be the most modeled, photographed and rendered P-51 ever. Little wonder - her pilot, C.E. "Bud" Anderson, is a legend. Ace, gentleman, test pilot and proud American, Bud is the kind of guy anyone can look up to...especially me. He was the first WW2 pilot I interviewed and the experience was so rewarding, I was compelled to keep talking to others.

Anyway, given the choice, Bud suggested I do his B model before it was marked up with "invasion stripes" - the broad black & white bars used to indicate Allied aircraft during and shortly after the D-Day invasion of June 6, 1944.

There are so many better artists out there (Salute Troy White) and surely, the world doesn't need my shlock cluttering up the place. But this particular finished piece will be used to raise money for the local chapter of Honor Flight. On its own, my art is at best a doodle. But with the pilot's signature, it becomes History. The opportunity to be a part of this event is truly an honor.

But, I have a question for readers: Should I do the drop tanks or leave them off? On one hand, the drop tanks signify the Mustang's ability to reach far into Nazi territory, providing valuable escort for the 8th Air Force bombers. On the other hand, the tanks would mess up the interesting lines of the P-51, specifically the fuselage scoop.

What say ya'll? Let me know - office21@mac.com

Hurry though. I've got two more planes to do for this event!

Profile 40 - "SNOWBALLS" as flown by Hank Snow

2010-03-06T15:16:00.000-08:00

Last summer, I read Malcolm Gladwell's book, "Outliers." In this book, the author makes a case that success is not so much a factor of Chosen Genius but an alchemy many factors. Successful people were born at the "right time" and capitalized on opportunity to learn more about their passions and adapt. And learn and adapt. And learn and adapt.

If Gladwell ever meets Hank Snow, by his own barometer, he'll be meeting one of the most successful fighter pilots alive.

The first time I met Hank was on a hotel shuttle in Washington D.C. I'll spare you the circumstances, but what struck me most was how the guy looked like Buzz Lightyear - and he had that same bigger-than-life presence. You know the type - big handshake, booming voice, giant smile - the uncle who shows up every Super Bowl Sunday with a big pot of "special recipe something" and a dollar for all the kids. I liked him right away.

But, though Hank has the vibe of someone who's competent at something, his jovial positivity doesn't exactly holler, "I've flown 666 combat missions in three wars."

If that sentence didn't make an impact, let me put it this way - Hank flew mortal combat in 3 different conflicts - unique in systems, enemy, technology, mission and tactics. And, he not only survived, but thrived with the distinction and deep respect of his superiors and peers (see way below).

Put in work-a-day terms, it's like a Teacher excelling in a one-room, coal-heated school house, then moving to a public metro High School and finally ending teaching internet classes - and all the while winning the awards & accolades afforded to an expert.

Now, I brought up my first impressions of Hank because it bears a point - when the popular notion of a fighter pilot comes up, Hollywood has ensured the image of big, boisterous and devil-may-care. Just like Hank appears to be. But you have to know - staying alive in a high-speed, intense combat arena is not a place for the "big, boisterous and devil-may-care" temperament. Those people tried, for sure, but they usually died.

"There are old pilots and there are bold pilots but there are very very few Old Bold pilots."

Hank Snow is a living example of Gladwell's formula for success: Circumstances + passion+ continual learning + a willingness to adapt.

Now's a good time to look at the numbers behind Hank's expertise:

16 different military type aircraft from Stearman biplane to F-4 Phantom supersonic jet

1,602 combat hours in WW2, Korea and Vietnam

5, 436 non-combat hours in military aircraft

24 different civilian type aircraft from the Piper Cub to the Lear jet.

7,679 hours of civilian flight time

_____________________________

14,717 total hours in 40 different aircraft

There are a number of civilian pilots today who can boast a greater number of hours. But none (that I can imagine) that can boast the sheer diversity and magnitude of Hank Snow. And therein lies the answer to the question that always comes up after learning of Hank's 666 combat missions: "Wow! How'd he stay alive?!"

Not through recklessness or wild-eyed risk taking. Nor was it from circumnavigating hard work or duty. Hank simply did what he enjoyed doing, over and over and over again; staying current with technology and not resisting changes in culture or mission. In other words, Hank made a life-long science of being a fighter pilot, without prejudice or cynicism.

When I look at Hank's Korean-war Sabre, I see a man mid-stream in his experience, doing what he enjoyed doing regardless of any guarantee.

If that's not a lesson for success, I don't know what is.

*Hank's Awards & Honors

Legion of Merit

6 Distinguished Flying Crosses

Bronze Star

24 Air Medals

Air Commendation Medal

Vietnam Cross of Gallantry with Silver Star

Vietnam Staff Service Medal

2 Presidential Unit Citation

Air Force Outstanding Unit Award

Oh - top to bottom: Hank in China-Burma WW2, Hank in Korea, Hank in Vietnam. Notice Hank's gray hair in the last photo.

PROFILE 40 (update) - "SNOWBALLS" as flown by Hank Snow

2010-03-05T13:18:00.001-08:00

UPDATE - Insomnia has its benefits! Hank's Sabre is about 75% finished - all that's left is masking off the elevator, some texturing, more of those damnable stencils and DONE.

Today, I got a bit done on Hank's Sabre - specifically, the nose art.

Typically, nose art is the last to be added but in this case, I put it on right away because I got impatient. And, I had this beautiful shot of the nose art staring at me.

Now, again, I'm no great artist. There are guys out there (like you, Gunter) who make my stuff look like I made mine with elbows dunked in finger paint. But the satisfaction of working on projects like this one bring significance to my pursuit of understanding history.

Look at the photo below. It's probably the best nose art reference I've ever had to work from. Texture, color and detail - thank you, Hank (actually, I think Hank's CC took the photo). But also notice the names painted on the snow balls - they're Hank's left-behind family.

There are two responses to photos like this. One is to see tragedy and hope against the possibility that Hank won't come home to see his "Snowballs." The other is to see victory in the ideal that upholding the nation's values are worth identifying personally.

What do you see?

In the meantime, I see an F-86 that needs to be finished.

Profile 40 - "SNOWBALLS" as flown by Capt. Hank Snow

2010-03-01T12:30:00.000-08:00

You're looking at what - I hear - is the greatest fighter airplane ever. The North American F-86 Sabre jet. Perhaps it was. Er, is. Sweet jimminy, do things with wings get any cooler than the sleek, swept look of this?!

And what a name - can't you just hear the baritone drawl of a Nawth'Caralawna crew chief sayin', "What'cha have he-yuh is a Nawth Amerkun Ef Eigtuh Seeux Sabuh JET!"

Oh man. I love it.

Anyway, Dolph Overton's "Dolph's Devil" is flying wing while I do Capt. Hank Snow's "SNOWBALLS" - the Sabre he flew in Korea. If you look really close at the photo below, Hank's Crew Chief is standing just to the right of the moniker, noted by 3 little painted snow balls, each bearing the name of family back home.

My initial sketch stinks - the proportions are all wrong; I'll have to train my brain to see the Sabre in its sleekness. Two items that I know will present special challenge - the dull aluminum sheen and the taught fit and finish. For me, getting the texture of bare metal down in 2-dimension artwork is difficult.

Stay tuned - there's a cool story to this one, too.

Profile 39 - B25 H S/N 43-4267

2010-01-27T19:17:00.000-08:00

It's done - the airplane with a Sherman tank cannon in the nose. The Beast. At least that's what I call it. And it looks beastly too, with that gritty, oil-stained paint job and utilitarian markings.

Update: the accuracy of those markings are no longer in question. It was as it is.

Anyway, this is the airplane that took Wendell to the end of his tour. On April 4, 1944, he was on his way home, having flown 50 combat missions against the Japanese in Burma, China and Thailand. He left behind friends and colleagues, the smoking ruins of success and also the possibility of dying in combat.

Now, I have to be frank. These guys have seen a lot of the terminal nature of life be it "back then" or now, as the last-men-standing of their wartime units. So, I ask the question, "Do you believe in some sort of fate that's kept you around so long?"

Wendell's answer was typical. "Sure! How can you explain it otherwise?"

He went on to describe how he knew the utter uselessness of worry. The only thing he could effect was his own piloting of his airplane. Flak, fighters, bomb-blast debris - he could no more control them than the weather. With that understanding, the fear and anxiety of "Will I make it?!" evaporated. He learned how to live in the moment of Now, in the cockpit, trusting his soul to God and his mind to the "Just fantastic!" training by the Air Corps.

Of course, there were those that didn't have Wendell's ironic sense of peace. He recalls men who froze at the controls, stunned by what could happen. Of these guys, Wendell holds no judgement. Just a gratitude for an abiding faith in God that he developed as a kid. But he prefers to dwell on the positive. "I think, looking back, two thirds of (us) had a faith stronger than their fear."

My head gets balled up some times, thinking about the strange, positive inspiration that comes from such ugly things like B-25s that can disintegrate a truckload of people like *that!*...

War is inevitable. To pull something positive out of it is an act of faith.

So is getting behind the stick of a B-25 at age 90. Yes, the photo below is Wendell. And yes, that's his original flight jacket. Who would have known?

Note: The 22nd Bombardment Squadron also flew other models of the B-25 in combat. The majority of Wendell's missions were in the B-25C and D models.

Profile 39 - B-25H S/N 43-4267

2010-01-10T07:22:00.000-08:00

Progress note 1-20-10: I'm laying a scan of the first mask on top of the initial sketch - I was WAY too thick on the fuselage and according to my references (namely a website featuring a restored B-25H) the turret should have been moved forward.

Anyway, I'm making progress.

The sketch above is pencil-work of my latest - a North American B-25 Mitchell bomber. Casual history buffs will recognize the twin-fin tail and probably recall snapping a few photos of a shiny silver example at an air show. But the real airplane nuts will recognize immediately that this example is the "H" model, probably the most heavily armed aircraft of WW2. This one's no gleaming queen but a dark witch of Hell. I get a shiver just thinking about it...

See the nose? That solid blunt shape is the H-sign and the sketched *flash!* is its signature - the bang of a 75mm cannon. The same kind found on Sherman tanks. Adding four .50 caliber "cheek" guns, four more .50's in the nose and the two .50s in the top turret equals 10 heavy machine guns to add to the maelstrom of metal. Not counting the rear and waist gunners!

Talking to 43-4267's pilot the other day, I absent-mindedly remarked, "Wow. Seeing you low on the horizon had to scare the breakfast-lunch-and-dinner out of the Japanese."

He looked at me as if I were making the understatement of the century. See - this thing didn't just attack targets. It turned them into dust.

Regardless, Wendell's "H model" has my fascination right now. Partly because of its power, partly because of the little-known arena (Burma) and partly because I get to ponder the imponderables like "Why do people wage war?" and "Is it better to force surrender or to eliminate the enemy altogether?"

Don't you love how History makes you think?

Ok, ok - I'm setting the pencil down and backing off my soapbox, nice'n easy like...

Anyway, watch this space. This beast will take shape over the next few weeks and I'll be sharing a few interesting artifacts from her pilot's service.

But in the meantime, the photo below was taken by 43-4267's tail gunner as they winged back to base, bleeding hydraulic fluid but leaving behind something for the enemy to think about.

Oh. the photo was taken March 5, 1944. The war went on for 17 more months.

Profile 38 - "696" as flown by Lt. Claude Hone

2009-11-26T21:17:00.000-08:00

Thanks to a bad case of insomnia, "696" has awoken from her 65 year sleep. Forgive the lousy allusion. It's late even now as I write.

This Corsair is my third - the first one being of Medal of Honor winner and triple-ace James Swett. I did it for the American Fighter Aces Journal a few years ago and frankly, I wish my rendering was up to the man who remains a bona-fide hero. I won't post my poor drawing here. Trust me when I write that my skills have improved a bit.

What you see is Lt. Claude Hone's Corsair. You don't see Japanese kill markings* on the side because Claude...never shot any down. He also didn't get the Medal of Honor. He was an ordinary Marine pilot in an ordinary, hard-working squadron. The sole marking, "696" reflects the austere life they lived on Efate, a hot, sticky island in the New Hebrides island chain. I worked to show the effect of sun-cooked paint, pitted by regular roars down gritty runways...I think it's okay.

Anyway, if you're like me, when you think of "History," defining moments come to mind - specific days, named heroes, revolutionary technology. But in reality, History is stitched together by the mundane and or unsung. WW2 was no exception. The Big Battles make the books, but the anxious, tedious times in-between get ignored.

Especially today, people want reality to be amazing. No, make that Amazing! In fact, as I'm typing this, I'm also wondering if readers will appreciate the airplane of a guy who did what he was called to do, without flinch, without ceremony.

Of course you will. Because such things are, in the end, rare enough to be amazing anyway.

PS - Claude's the guy suited up, ready to go, standing on the left with 696's other assigned pilot and the airplane's ground crew.

PSS - Claude was on the first Marine fighter-bomber mission into Tokyo in February 16, 1945. 8 planes went in, 4 came out.

The photo below is of Claude (back row, standing, far right) with fellow Marine and a couple Navy pilots. Taken in San Diego late April '45, the smiles are pure; their tour is done and they're confident they won't be going back. Yet, the war went on for three and a half more months...

*Marine squadrons didn't typically mark their airplanes with victories anyway but you get my drift.

OH! One last thing. I hope you don't get the idea that Claude is anything like his well-worn "Hog." He's 90 and has a spark of life that is positively brilliant. True story - a month ago, he challenged me to a duel of leg-lifts. He won. Of course, there was a trick to it and I'm looking forward to a rematch.

Profile 37: "Dolph's Devil"

2009-11-08T08:35:00.000-08:00

Five, six years ago, a buddy asked me if I had any interest in the Korean War and if so, would I think about ever "...drawing (a particular airplane) of that era?" At the time, I wasn't.

For me, there's value in learning of the noble traits of sacrifice, focused creativity and belief in an Ideal. That's why I can so easily call the ordinary service of the WW2 generation, "Heroic."

But Korea? That was the war that pulled the WW2 guys away from their young families. That was the war that taught me that politicians can determine targets. Yeah, I'm generalizing, but the first taste I had of the Korean Conflict was watching "The Bridges at Toko Ri" on late night TV. A fantastic film, but it left me - even at age ten or so - with a kind of emotional heartburn. The movie ends with the quote of grizzled Admiral asking the audience, "Where do we get such men?" Like I wrote, Korea is the war that pulled the WW2 guys away from...

My understanding is that the Korean Conflict was not about the disease - (Communism) - but about the spread of the disease. That doesn't quite make sense. Patton may have been crazy, but he may have been as a fox when he stated that the Allied world should plow through Russia and met MacArthur in Japan.

Would Korea have happened? The Eastern Bloc? Vietnam? Or did the Yin/Yang of Capitalism & Communism somehow stabilize the world?

Bah. I'm wasting time on a non-issue. But suffice it to say, in the past few years, I've learned that though I don't understand the politics, the same wonderful traits of character were all the more apparent in the heroes of 1950-1953.*

And so, thanks to Morton, I am starting on the machine of a particularly heroic pilot named Dolph Overton. You'll like this one.

*Even now, the "Korean War" isn't officially over.

Profile 36 - YO-YO as flown by Senator George McGovern

2009-10-06T13:59:00.000-07:00

Presenting "YO-YO" - a B-24J Liberator as it flew with the 741st Bomber Squadron, 455th Bomber Group, 15th Air Force, Italy, circa 1944.

Some historians have recorded George flying a B-24 named "Dakota Queen." No photographic reference exists of that airplane. However, George's logs show that he flew "YO-YO" in combat and being that ample photographic documentation remains of this airplane, I went with what could be verified.

I hope to soon get the Senator's blessing on the artwork, but I'm confident enough that YO-YO is on-target, so I'm posting it now.

Anyway, I believe that in WW2, unique cultures emerged within each aerial discipline. Whether by nature or nurture, I can't quite tell, but suffice it to say, fighter pilots tend to act like fighter pilots, bomber pilots like bomber pilots, recon pilots like recon pilots...My explanation is that the man had to fit the mission.

A fair number of history buffs read this blog so the following may be old-hat. Nevertheless, the job of a WW2 bomber pilot was governed by a strong value system. Teamwork, consistency and single-mindedness were absolutely necessary for their mission. Strength was in numbers, security in discipline and success by collectively doing the job so well, it needn't be done again.

Today, there is no proper analog to the job George did. The image of the bomber pilot, working to hold his clumsy machine in formation, trundling through clouds of supersonic shrapnel* and parenting a crew of eight, ten men is forever locked in the 1940s.

Thankfully, the inspiration of such dedication and focus is timeless. Without a doubt, George's sense of public service and passion for the rights of others was honed in that cockpit. I remember that during the 1972 presidential election, George took more flak for his aggressive opposition to the Vietnam War, Though history has vindicated his position, I wonder if back then people really understood that he knew what he was talking about...**?

Today, George is nearing his fifth DECADE of leadership within Food for Peace, a program that distributes food overseas. John F. Kennedy appointed him Director in 1961. A few weeks ago, George stated Food for Peace's purpose rather simply. "Every kid needs lunch."

What a brilliant mission - and he shares leadership roles with none other than Bob Dole. Talk about beating bombs into plowshares, eh?

Oh - George turned 87 this year and maintains that he could horse a B-24 off the ground if the chance remained. Two years ago, he proved he could yet fly and land a BT-13 (the airplane he learned to fly in Basic Training).

*The lethal blast radius from a German 8,8 cm FlaK shell was approximately 50 feet and sprayed 300+ shards of metal at initial velocities of around 2,000 fps.

**George McGovern flew 35 missions in combat, received the Distinguished Flying Cross, Air Medal with 3 Oak Leaf Clusters and twice experienced battle damage that resulted in casualties and/or scrapping the airplane. If we figure that George commanded an average of 4,500lbs of bombs on each of his missions, he was responsible for about 80 tons of explosive dropped on the enemy.

Photo: George McGovern, Ground School Flight Training, July '43, Carbondale, IL - George is standing 2nd from the left. Photo courtesy of The Senator George McGovern Collection, McGovern Library Archives and Special Collections, Dakota Wesleyan University

Note: Special thanks to historian Dave Ungemach for his provision of excellent photographic documentation of "YO-YO," especially that silly bunny on the side. I spent a whole night at the kitchen table drawing that stupid rabbit; if it weren't for Dave, I'd have ended up drawing a big old happy Elmer Fudd proudly dangling Bugs by his ears.

Profile 36: PREVIEW "YO-YO" as flown by Sen. George McGovern

2009-09-11T16:40:00.000-07:00

10/6 Update: Almost done...

As a lark, I sketched this little aerial combat scene - no clouds, but a single German Bf.109 G-6/R6 arcing in on a desperate attempt to stop the inevitable...

I prefer interviewing fighter pilot & crew, hence the very name of this blog. But sometimes, opportunities pose themselves that simply make personal preference seem silly.

Buddies Greg and Jim have cleared the way for me to spend time with Senator George McGovern. He's a riot! So far, we've talked mostly "History," but I'm here to draw his airplane. Well, actually, an airplane that he flew. YO-YO was technically assigned to a different crew, but crew often shared airplanes. George's logbook shows he was Pilot-in-Command of YO-YO in combat. Also, YO-YO was well photographed, providing me with excellent documentation. So, we go with what we know.

George was a B-24 pilot and flew with the 741st Bomber Squadron of the 455th Bomber Group out of Italy in WW2. When I finish this piece, I'll post what I hope to be a suitably interesting story here. Until then, the following anecdote will have to suffice.

Fighters, of course, are the Glamorous Ones of the air war. Man, machine, duels to the death, that sort of thing. Bombers, on the other hand, were the lumbering trucks in a freezing skyway, hauling loads of explosive iron, their crews captive to the will of whatever fates rolled that day.

Most people are acquainted with the movie stereotype of the bomber pilot clenching his teeth, yelling to "Stay off the radio!" and to "Stay in formation!" while the airplane bounces from the heat blast of flak and the amputations caused by slashing enemy fighters.

If you're like me, you've thought, "Those guys were either jar-headed or immensely brave.

The fact was, the bomber crews of WW2 were beyond brave. They were highly trained, experts who's act of service were, in no uncertain terms, heroic. If you ever get to one of the American Cemeteries scattered around the world - the ones with the rows and rows of perfect-white crosses - notice the casualty lists. Over 25% of the Army casualties in WW2 were Air Force. Of that number, the majority were bomber crew.

Bomber pilots from other nations didn't fare any better - I shudder to think of what the casualty rate of Japanese bomber pilots must have been. I'd guess 70%. (Note to self: remember to ask Barrett Tillman).

I can understand the life of a fighter pilot - commanding ones own fate. But the bombers, on their droning straight-line path, plodding through a wickedly random, lethal gauntlet, seem, well, cruel. Wasteful. Foolish.

Well, more on that later.

In the meantime, I'm learning all-things-B-24J. This will be an interesting task because the Liberator (the B-24's nickname) I get to draw is mostly natural aluminum. I've not come even CLOSE to achieving what I think is an acceptable aluminum finish. Maybe I'll make progress here? The other difficulty behind the B-24 is that it was essentially a flying box; the sides were huge slabs of metal and rivets, absorbing the regular irregular patterns of warps, stress and dimples of combat flight.

Wish me luck.

Profile 35: "Four Six One" as flown by Kyösti "Kössi" Karhila

2009-08-06T18:26:00.001-07:00

Kyosti "Kossi" Karhila was a fighter pilot in the Finnish Air Force. He shot down well over 32* Russian airplanes in air-to-air combat, at least eight** of which were downed flying "MT-461" as shown - a German-built Messerschmitt Bf 109 G6/R6 fighter.

From an artistic standpoint, "Four Six One" was pure work. I have always thought the 109 was rather peculiar and never could get my head around how the the Messerschmitt looked. Too many subtle curves, bumps and quirky design shapes - the airplane's lines are not simple like an F6F or elegant like a Spitfire. A page from my sketchboook is included below - it was as a way to get into the "Luftwaffe vibe." When I finished that 109 in-flight (red arrow), I was surprised it looked even somewhat like a 109. I thought "Wow! How'd I do that?!"

The camouflage drove me nuts. Balancing the vague grays and weathering probably took a few days off the useful life of my eyes. I'm not 100% happy with the result, but Kossi approved and I'm in optic pain. I'm letting it go.

However, the history part of the process was utterly fascinating. This project began with a chance meeting in Cambridge, UK with one of the board members of the Finnish Aviation Museum Society. Earlier in the day, my buddies and I were talking about how (aside from a little incident with the Brits in 1812), America had never been invaded. War is something that has happened, "over there."

Having a beer in England, we were in one of those "over there" countries. In short order, our table grew to include 3 Americans, 1 Brit, 1 Belgian, an Australian and 3 Finns. Discussing politics and history with our new friends, the reality of human aggression and all of the gray, blurry decisions that arise from it became clear. And we Yanks had to come to the grateful understanding that we were culturally ignorant of war's doorstep experience. Thank. God.

Finland's history during WW2 is extraordinary. The Finns were Pro-West, Pro-Democracy, Pro-human rights, Anti-Communist, Pro-German, tolerant of Jews and masterful of the Russians and then ended up beating the Germans to appease the Russians...if you're interested in politics or history, Finland will fascinate, if not confuse.

Suffice it to state, the Finnish culture is strongly self-reliant and will do whatever it takes to stay whole. Bear in mind that Helsinki, along with London and Moscow, was one of only 3 European capitals that didn't experience some sort of occupation in WW2.

Aside from staving off the Russian juggernaut, Finland created and managed an amazingly effective air force with mostly obsolete aircraft. As a point of fact, of the 1,435 confirmed air-to-air victories over "the Ruskis", almost 1/3 of them were obtained by Finnish pilots flying the Brewster "Buffalo" - an airplane regarded as one of the worst combat aircraft of all time.*** It wasn't until the Finns bought fighters from the Germans that they had truly first-line aircraft to fight against the Soviets.

Back to Four Six One.

The airplane shown is a Bf 109 G-6/R6. Though the Bf-109 series was the most produced series of fighter aircraft in the history of aviation, the individual variants are wide and varied. The G-6/R6 variant was created as a bomber-destroyer by tacking on two 20mm gun pods beneath the wings. The results were both impressive and depressing at the same time. On one hand, the increased fire power was awesome - a well aimed 'tap' on the trigger was an instant kill. On the other, the added gun pods were not unlike a Porsche owner entering a road race while towing a boat; the increased drag and weight of the guns turned the 109 into a clumsy truck.

Beacause of these encumbrances, many fighter pilots didn't like the G-6/R6. Except for Kossi. He chose to embrace the airplane's tremendous power, giving Four Six One the affectionate nickname of, "Cannon Battery."

You must remember that most of the great aces in WW2 were stalkers, not brawlers. They became experts in get-in-get-out tactics, relying on speed and marksmanship. Twirling duels in the sky were dramatic, but could also be wasteful of physical energy, fuel and ammo. Kossi was not in the service to perform aerobatics but to defend Finland from invaders. All he really wanted was that precise moment in time and space where the enemy would cross paths with a few well-placed cannon shells and...

Boom!

At the risk of showing my embarrassingly poor physics acumen, the kinetic energy of a pound of explosive shells, traveling at 2,500 feet per second and hitting a thin-skinned airplane is, well, lethal. Kossi was a brilliant shot. Of course, he had to be. - the tradeoff of maneuverability for firepower gave a well-flown "R6" only a momentary advantage.

In the end, though my "artistic" skills were raised, my appreciation for Finland was rather more so. In learning about Kossi, I was reminded of how important the individual can be in shaping reality for many. This blog post will undoubtedly get shared among many Finns who will read of a countryman who rose to the occasion of Service and Country. That, is a good thing.

Anyone, everywhere, owes their lot -in part- to individuals. To those in poverty and ruin, to fools. To those living in peace and prosperity, to heroes.

I'm pleased to add Kossi to my list of heroes.

Oh - some sketches I made of Finnish Brewster, 109 and Hawk 75 planes.

And a sketch of MT-461 in flight - it looks like I tried to give it that "chopped roof" effect that hot-rodders do to their cars! (laughs)

*32 confirmed, but possibly more than 42, based on post-war Soviet archive searches.

**8 victories in MT-461 are confirmed, but with the addition of unconfirmed victories, it may be 16.

***The Finns took their unloved Brewsters and made Mad Max-like modifications, boosting the airplane's survivability. But, there's no motivation quite like fighting for sheer survival and I'm sure that played heavily into the Finn's success with the airplane.

Profile 34.6 - Yellow 6 as flown by Kyösti "Kössi" Karhila

2009-07-26T07:18:00.000-07:00

8/2/09 update - tail and fuselage shown...but Kossi thought the cockpit area was too "fat" so I'm not showing that quite yet.

The airplane above, to me, represents life in its hard, cold ambiguity. It's a German-designed Messerschmitt 109 G6/R6 flown by Finnish Air Force ace, Kyosti Karhila.

For most Americans, the closest they get to Finnish culture is using a Nokia phone (you're not alone if you had thought all this time that the company was Japanese). And to be frank, Finnish history is devilish in its complexity. Suffice it to say, for the past 100 years, Russia has wanted Finland and the Finnish people haven't let them have it. Of course, people died in the process. Most of them, Russians.

Now, two things have to be made clear (and this will only add to the confusion). First, though there was a fascist element in the pre-WW2 Finnish government, the swastika on the side of the Messerschmitt has nothing to do with the nazi symbol. The Finns maintain they were using the design in 1918, way before Hitler thought of using Graphic Design as a way to motivate the masses.

Second, the Finns saw Stalin's communism as a greater evil than Hitler. Russia was shooting. Germany wasn't. So, they got the help where they could. I wouldn't want to have to choose between Stalin and Hitler, that's for sure.

I have a growing respect for Finland's tenacity and tough choices. Today, they are a thriving nation with its own rich culture. They've been the "David" to Russia's "Goliath" and worked very hard for their own Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. When the opportunity presented itself to do a print-series of an aircraft flown by one of her national heroes, I was compelled to take it.

Hopefully, Yellow 6 will be done sometime in August and have the prints submitted to Mr. Karhila in September for signing. More as this develops, but until then, I've only managed to get a handle on just the tip of Karhila's airplane...much like my grasp of Finnish history.

Profile 34: KAY II as flown by "Sandy" Moats

2009-06-23T05:36:00.000-07:00

"KAY II" was a last-minute request to support Colonel Len Kloeber's book, "Victory Principles - Lessons from D-Day." Len was specifically looking for an airplane that had some sort of connection to the momentous June 6 date and noted Sanford "Sandy" Moats' Kay III (Profile 8).

Profile 8 was never intended for a production-print run. In fact, the artwork was a fast lash-up for a symposium at Seattle's Museum of Flight and though the rendering worked for the presentation, it simply wasn't good enough to light up a press.

Now, I know as an aviation artist, I'm a solid grade "C" - up-close, I get a C-. From 20' away, I can pull off a C+. But I do try to be accurate with two things - nose art and markings and I knew there were a couple errors that would need to be corrected before sending the artwork to the printer. When Len's request came in, I simply couldn't find my one photographic reference of Kay III and therefore, couldn't correct what I knew was "wrong" with the version shown in this blog.

So, I offered to provide another D-Day plane. God knows there are a bunch - though the ground forces met with their own hell on the beachheads, the pilots ruled the skies over Normandy. Only two very brave Luftwaffe pilots made any kind of showing on D-Day. Len however, insisted on Moats' plane. The only other shot we had at getting a decently documented piece of art was Kay III's older sister, Kay II.

Just to be clear, Kay II and Kay III were not over the Normandy beaches on June 6, 1944. But her pilot was. Nevertheless, there's no doubt Sandy Moats went on practice the higher points of Leadership (he made 3 stars as a General in the Air Force). So, Len's choice of Kay II as a premium to promote his book was fitting.

ANYWAY, I had three days to bring Kay II to life and get her to the printer in order to meet Len's public appearance schedule. Sam Sox, a brilliant historian of the 352nd, was invaluable in getting the art right - notice the slight difference in blue between the two panels that hold the KAY II lettering versus the surrounding blue. Sandy was given a new plane sometime late-summer/early fall '44 and asked that the old "KAY" artwork be pulled off of his old plane and put on the new. Sam helped me get the "old blue" and the "new blue" right.

However, in the end, Moats himself ended up providing the necessary reference by giving me an invaluable help in lettering, coloring and positioning of the nose art, his own photo of the moment KAY II's panels were transfered to the new plane.

FYI - Sandy's on the far left.

Profile 33: 03 as flown by William "Bill" Creech

2009-06-06T21:16:00.000-07:00

"03" is an A-36 Apache, the P-51 Mustang's older, quirky brother. The airplane was given the "A for Attack" appellation, partly because it was fitted with metal grates that would pop out of the wing to control descent in a dive-bombing run. It was also an okay Fighter, but her Allison engine was best at low altitude; good enough because the typical mission of an A-36 was close air support and not swirling dogfights in the stratosphere.

At first, I wanted to do the airplane William "Bill" Creech was flying the fateful day he was knocked down over Japanese-occupied Burma. But government records, pilot memories and photographic evidence were scarce. In the end, I took Bill's blunt advice, "John, just draw one that looks like it'd been ours. Regardless, I flew it."

Up until I met the Dragon Flys, I had an idea that combat aircraft were personalized, lovingly groomed, nursed when ill, mourned when lost. I remember how Bud Anderson openly showed emotion as he described how his crew cared for his famous Mustang, "Old Crow."

Yet the 528th were a world away in a different climate, culture and mission. They had a more workman, utilitarian regard for their tools. Flipping through one of the pilot's photo album, I could see why - jungle heat, rot, rain and dysentery played havoc on plane and pilot. Dingy, dinged, the planes looked like they'd been recovered by archeologists. The Ground Crew were absolutely brilliant in keeping them mechanically ready. But I soon learned Burma was no place to get affectionate about anything.

Crew & pilots alike slept in surplus burlap tents. Cobras and boot-sized centipedes crawled the rotting jungle floor. Monkeys freaked in the trees, malarial mosquitos swarmed over anything warm with blood. The squadron toilet was a log - watch for things that bite before sitting.

It seemed that elsewhere in the world*, the Winged Warriors wielded eagles while the 528th battled with buzzards. And battle, they did, flying close-air support for a group of bad-ass commandos called Merrill's Marauders.

To give you an idea how hard these planes were flown, on one day in Summer of 1944, a record 76 sorties were flown. Considering 4-5 airplanes were out-of-commission at any given time, that meant 20 airplanes flew at least 3 combat sorties a piece. Regardless of your role in the squadron, if you weren't working, you were sleeping...or on that log (everyone had dysentery).

And yet, having spent a fair amount of time with Dragon Fly luminaries, not one has grumbled about their service. Not even a hint. Ground crew are remembered with reverence, Merrill's Marauders with awe and their individual service as a chosen duty. They flew hard, fought hard and kept a soft spot for things that mattered.

I'm working on a more detailed presentation of Bill's "walk out" of the jungle - a feat of independence, confidence and courage. But until that's finished, I hope "03" serves as a totem to memorable sacrifice in a "forgotten" theater.

Oh...just so you know, the 528th received a Presidential Unit Citation for their outstanding combat record. I've held the actual document and it is beautiful.

*Joe Foss painted a pretty rough picture of flying from Guadalcanal, too. Either group of guys would have likely found the other's quarters to be equally interesting.

Photo courtesy Meyer Newell, 528th FS.

Temporary post - D-Day's unforgotten casualty

2009-06-06T06:54:00.001-07:00

Unfortunately, I don't have an airplane ready to post today.

But I do have a picture and a story to share. The strangely tinted photo above was taken at a place called, "Bodney." Right now, it's a patch of ordinary land in East Anglia, England. But during WW2, it was the base of the 352nd Fighter Group. The building shown is all that remains of the 352nd's base - the all-important Control Tower. It's also the site of one of D-Day's earliest casualties.

As you can see, the place is rather decrepit. But on Midnight, June 6,1944, though unfinished, the tower was part of a hub of anxious activity as the men of the 352nd prepared for their huge moment - provide air cover for the invasion of Hitler's Europe.

If you have any imagination, picture this - inky darkness, the steady, urgent clump of boots, sober, low toned voices, clanks of metal...and about 1:30am, clunks of boots on aluminum wings followed by the fire-belching coughs of Merlin engines...

If we were to go back in time, and stand in that spot where I took the picture, we'd look left as 16 Mustangs of the 486th Squadron* taxi down the field to turn around for their take-off run. The sound would be hypnotic - the crackling lope of 30,000 some horsepower, trundling away, down the field. The visuals, of course, would be vague shadows and indistinct shapes save for the soft flicks of blue and white fire sparking from the exhaust.

Then, just as the seconds would tick to 2AM, engines would howl as the first four Mustangs begin their race toward the tower, galloping down the barely marked field, laden with fuel, ammo...and a sweaty pilot with very little experience in taking off in the black.

A few seconds pass as these airplanes roar closer. Your instincts tell you to get out of the way! Louder, louder, louder...we flinch and step back as the heavily burdened machines leave the ground. If we could see each other's faces, we'd be wide-eyed and breathless, perhaps even buffeted by propwash. If you were near me, you'd hear me blurt, "COOL!"

Then just as the first are airborne, another four roar towards...louder, louder, louder, we flinch again...BOOOM! A supernova of flame blinds us, a blast of heat slaps our faces, the sweet smell of aviation fuel is blown into our sinus...and those bullets, thousands of them, explode like the coughs of demons...

Come back to that photo. Notice the little overhang on the far left corner. On June 6, 2:00AM, that whole corner was ripped from the building as Lt. Robert Frascotti's P-51 smashed into the new tower, shearing the reinforced concrete into pieces, instantly killing him.

Just after I took that photo, Robert Powell, a pilot with the 328th FS, pointed out the vague distinction between the original structure and where the corner had been repaired. This "new" concrete and brickwork can just be barely made out. Powell then stated soberly, "The rest all took off by the light of his flames."

As you can imagine, the story of Frascotti's death is worthy of more words than I've provided. In fact, click here for the full story.

Nevertheless, there's an inspiring message in the ugliness of this early, perhaps first, casualty of D-Day. Today, when you go out to mow the lawn, shop, have a beer on the deck with friends, think about, talk about, if only for a second, the people who, in the words of Red James (Profile 31) "Did what they were supposed to do."

*The 352nd Fighter Group contained 3 squadrons - the 328th FS, the 486th FS and the 487th FS. Each Squadron flying 12 airplanes.

Profile 32: SNEEZY as flown by Donald "Mac" McKibben

2009-05-24T20:18:00.000-07:00

"Olive Drab" is the official name but in reality, the color runs everywhere from forest green to sludge brown. Sun, rain, oil, sand all played a role in altering the hue after the plane left the factory. We'll never know exactly of the true shade of SNEEZY's Olive Drab. Instead, a handful of people make their educated decrees - "a little browner..." or "...kinda more darkish sorta."

To someone watching the process, I bet we appear nuts.

Yet, SNEEZY, a Republic P-47 Thunderbolt, blew a fast one at me when her pilot revealed the airplane was polished with car wax. And, not some government issue car-wax, but the best stuff girlfriend* Nita could find back in Long Island. Mac recalls that she "...virtually corner(ed) the market for Simoniz (and shipped) it off to me in Bodney (England)." No kidding about cornering the market - there's at least four Buicks in a single P-47; can you imagine the number of cans it took to complete the job?!

And I wonder, "How on earth do I get a car-polish sheen on this thing?!" Well, you be the judge. Mac maintains the polish didn't so much change the color as it did merely add sheen. However, the main reason for the polish wasn't about the shine, but the speed.

Drag is "cubed" as velocity increases. In other words, the faster something goes, the resistance from drag grows stronger and stronger. The result of eliminating dust, dirt and scratches through a thorough polishing has been estimated to have provided as much as a 10 knot increase in airspeed! Those extra mph's could mean life and death, adding an extra second to close in on a surprise bounce or another inch distance away from an otherwise mortal bullet.

Suddenly, little details of paint become rather more interesting, don't you think?

The photo below shows Mac on SNEEZY's wing, and Crew Chief, Luman Morey. Though Mac trusted his life to Morey's mechanical prowess, he maintains that plenty of his own sweat was scrubbed into SNEEZY's Simoniz job.

*Nita later became Don's wife.

**"Sneezy" is named after one of Snow White's seven dwarves.

***Yes, Walt Disney's Sneezy had a tan coat. Mac's had a blue coat.

****Oh - Bill Creech (profile 17) Simonized his squadron's F-100s in Vietnam. Ironically, they were the 352nd FS.

Photos courtesy of Don McKibben via the 352nd Fighter Group Association.

Profile 32: SNEEZY Preview

2009-05-23T08:32:00.000-07:00

This is my latest work-in-progress, a P-47 Thunderbolt flown by "Mac" McKibben of the 352nd FG. I wanted to get something up in time for Memorial Day. For some reason, I always start with the nose.

Anyway, historian Marc L. Hamel published a story about this particular airplane that's quite fascinating. Marc's letting me share his retelling of the account - click here for a downloadable .pdf on the details of a harrowing day for both pilot and civilian alike.

Nevertheless, "SNEEZY" heaved her last breath on March 8, 1944 over England when the airplane (and Mac) was involved in a multi-airplane mid-air collision. They were assembling formation in extreme fog and someone moved a few inches in the wrong direction...kabang! Tons of aluminum, gasoline and ammo clashed at 200knots. A multi-plane pile up in the sky.

Mac bailed out, SNEEZY augured in. Again, click here to download Marc's in-depth version.

Suffice it to say, accidents killed more of the 352nd than the Nazis. Accidents, such as those that happen while trying to get a formation of 12,000lb fighters together in 10 foot visibility. Risking one's life in mortal combat with the enemy may be honorable, but loss and pain because of an accident before the battle begins seems especially cheap and tragic.

Today, in peace and safety, a pilot would be using basic reasoning to stand on the airfield and announce to the wall of cloud, "No way am I going to take off in this soup!" But in 1944, the greater good overruled and the 352nd climbed to meet their particular responsibility.

The facts are, Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness are the result of decisions made regardless of odds or circumstances. They don't happen by accident.

Oops! Just found out that SNEEZY was a P-47 C-5 instead of a D-5. Perish the thought!

Profile 31: 18 as flown by Eugene "Red" James

2009-05-17T16:23:00.000-07:00

History buffs will quickly recognize that the airplane above isn't WW2 vintage. For those who aren't so buffy, the clue that this Corsair is post-1945 is the red bar on the insignia. That feature was added circa 1947. To 99% of the population, such things aren't important. I could put "WW2 fighter plane" under the bottom and most wouldn't care any more or less. But I’m a history buff and try to get the details right.

Nevertheless, "18" was flown during the Korean Conflict by "Red" James, a Marine pilot. He flew Corsairs in both WW2 and Korea. I chose to do his Korean mount because of the sheer number of reference material - in fact, “18” is on display at the Naval Air Museum in Pensacola, Florida. Easy details - just look.

Last Friday, Red told of how he was "called up" again for service in 1951. Remember, the American military had just decommissioned its gigantic WW2 force when the Korean situation ignited. Plenty of combat-experienced personnel were available for the call, almost immediately. For specialized warriors like pilots, a month or two of refresher courses is much more efficient than a year or more of raising pilots from scratch.

But by the time the North Korean Communists moved South, Red James had added a new experience to his resume on top of Corsair and carrier qualifications. He was a dad with two little kids and a wife. Though Red had a lot to offer the Marines by virtue of his skill and experience, he also had a lot more to lose.

Through these interviews, I’m challenged to think about beliefs on war, justice, duty - working to distinguish the feel-good thoughts from true conviction. In the course of Friday’s conversation, we discussed a word that can fan flames in emotionally-charged circles - Cowardice. I asked Red how he defined the term and his answer was devilishly simple - "Someone who doesn't do what they're supposed to do."

The men that I’ve interviewed are no longer the pilots of 1943 or 1951. They’ve gone on, living whole new lifetimes that proportionately, make their moments in combat just blips in time. But when they share their wisdom - hardened by The Great Depression and war, softened by some of the most prosperous decades in American record - I learn fine points that I could never get on my own.

The details of history offer the courage to do what "we're supposed to do."

I am grateful for Red's example.

Update: Red's granddaughter asked me to post a picture of him from his service days, so I here it is. It's an "official" Marine Corps photo. The paper is thick and brittle but the grain is unbelievably tight. No digital pixels, no washed-out insta-matic film - this is crisp, clear life circa 1944. I swear I can smell developer chemicals on my fingers after holding the photo.

Anyway, I've never met Red's granddaughter. But a round-about set of circumstances caused her to write me a note (real paper!) to "...talk to my grandfather! He flew Corsairs!" So, I call, write, draw, send, talk, email, post...and through the glory of 21st century technology, we're connected. She'll send this post onto a bunch of people, my kids will read this after dinner, someone else, somewhere will see the censor scratches on the photo and email, "Why did they do that? And so on.

Flash, 1944 blends with today. Trite? Naw. It's freaking amazing. Ordinary people being inspired by the reality of life makes history so very present and powerful. And, if we do what we're supposed to do, we all live forever.

Profile 30 - MAJ MAC as flown by Morris Magnuson

2009-04-24T18:11:00.001-07:00

Firstly, the response to this blog has lead me to believe readers would like to learn more about my interviews and what I "do." So, please click here for web presentation that goes into greater detail on MAJ MAC. I hope you like it.

One of the great honors in interviewing these pilots and crew is the chance to hold, touch their historical documents and artifacts. Maybe I'm goofy, but the more I experience the wisdom of these men and their pasts, I believe the "self-help" genre can be replaced by old fashioned listening & learning.

Just today, I was flipping through the Cadet Yearbook of class 44-A and was struck by the positive, encouraging tone of the copy. Sometimes, popular media portrays leadership, command as cold, steeled and unyielding. Certainly General Patton cultivated that image (in reality, he was rather emotional, however). But the greater number of people respond to shine rather than shiners, even warriors.

To this end, I ask every veteran about who they regard as their most effective "Leaders." To a man, they are remembered as relational, expressive and positive. The "Easy's Angels" painted on the tips of 23rd FS rudders refer to Major "Easy" Miles - a particularly well-liked Group Leader who, in the words of Morrie, "Gave us a job and we all felt good doing it."

Hamilton, "Mac" McWhorter (see profile 21) stressed leadership's ability to inspire and encourage as contagious, something one would want to pass on to the next person. These are good words - right now, as a parent, I'm looking at my 3 year old and wondering how to LEAD her to stop unloading every darned drawer in the house onto the floor...

The scan below is a page out of that 44-A Yearbook...

Profile 29.75 - MAJ MAC Preview

2009-04-04T20:48:00.000-07:00

The next profile, a P-47D-28 flown by a member of the 36th Fighter Group is not quite finished. The sketches shown were done on our kitchen bar with one of my kids' colored pencils. They're all I want to show right now.

In fact, tomorrow, I'm going to be going over a draft with the airplane's pilot. He hasn't seen a complete picture - artwork or photograph - of his old mount for sixty four years. The last time he was in a P-47 was when one rocketed out from under his tumbling body, belching black smoke and flames. But more about that later this month.

My reason for this post is to share a little bit of the behind-the-scenes efforts behind my artwork. Currently, I'm figuring at least 20 people all over the world have been helping identify the specific markings and colorations of this particular airplane. Wow! Their work and understanding of "getting it right" is humbling. Yet, the effort is essential. Once this particular plane graces the Internet, a historical record will be created. As time passes, my tolerance for mistakes is decreasing because I'm continually learning the wisdom of "measure twice, cut once."

Realize that Group Commanders were under a tacit order to keep cameras away from their planes for security reasons. Of course, the gagillion books, movies and websites on WW2 aviation are loud testimony to the fact that the order wasn't enforced that well. But, the CO of the 36th did his best - compared to many 8th and 9th AF units, the 36th FG exists only in text. As fortunate as I am to call on excellent, reputable historians, only seven photos of 36th FG/23rd FS P-47D's have been available to me for reference!

Every Group, Squadron had their own little quirks of markings. Yellow might have been fresh and bright on one plane, dingy and chipped on another. Some squadron letters might have that military "stencil" effect, others might not. Serial numbers may show all seven digits or just six...photos are essential for accuracy.

However, undoubtedly the greatest challenge is interpreting black and white photographs for color illustration. For example, the photo below is the best shot the pilot has of his mount. Does it show a red and yellow nose? A black nose and gray-painted cowl panels? Black and yellow? Five different "official" sources showing five different color combinations don't help. Yet, the plane must fly off the press sooner or later. Stop back in a few weeks to see where we landed.

In case you're wondering why the pilot just doesn't 'remember' the details, the question is valid, but the answer isn't as simple as it may seem. The age of these pilots isn't so much a factor - please know, I've been interviewing these guys for years and to this day, they're still sharper than many of my buddies. (No offense). Their memories of the past are astounding and can be backed up with journals, log books...the problem is that these pilots looked at their aircraft as mere tools. They had no idea they'd be quizzed a lifetime later!

Profile 29 - RUSTY as flown by William R. Preddy

2009-03-15T13:25:00.000-07:00

Visually, "Rusty" is a rather unremarkable P-51. The 339th FG color scheme was, by WW2 standards, somewhat hum-drum. However, to me, this airplane represents a bold reality of living that I often choose to ignore - that life can be horribly unfair.

William Preddy was the younger brother of 8th AF ace, George Preddy. George's machines are shown twice in this blog - Profile 1 and Profile 23...and the elder Preddy's legend is well documented through book, museum, foundation and memories of the grateful men who served under and alongside.

Bill was an excellent combat pilot in his own right. According to the Preddy family, George believed Bill was on his way to achieve at least the same aerial success he had. And, there was none of that "big brother shadow" for Bill - he trained and achieved on his own skill. The Air Force may have appreciated the elder Preddy, but nepotism had no place in putting pilots into expensive technology and work where competence could mean the life and death of many, many others.

Bill learned of George's death almost a month later. The following is an excerpt from his letter home to mom & dad:

"What I have to say now is difficult to explain because I hardly understand it myself. There is no use to say not to grieve for I know that is impossible. It is useless to say try and forget, for we can’t and shouldn’t. We should remember, but in doing so we should look at it in the true light.

A man’s span on this earth is not measured in years. Above all, that is least important. To find happiness, success, and most important, to find God is the Zenith of any man’s worldly activities. I think a man has not lived until these things have been achieved. ... Yes, George knew a full, rich life. He surely reached out and touched the face of God many times. ...

I close offering you my eternal love and devotion. Let us carry on as George wanted and may we arrive at his standard.

Always Love, Bill"

Bill wrote that the day after he learned of George's death. Geez. What an attitude! To be able to lose a beloved to the senselessness of war (and friendly fire, no less) and maintain a level of objectivity is impressive, especially so in today's culture of self-gratification. At the risk of being trite, would the situation happen today, would Bill have been pressured to contact a lawyer?

We'll never know. Bill died on April 18, 1945 at a Czech hospital from wounds he sustained from being shot down by German ground fire.

Two sons - the best of the best, so wholly deserving of what the world may offer as success, dead because a small group of sociopaths...bah. It's not fair at all.

The picture below is one I took at St. Avold American Cemetery in France. Bill's cross is on the left, George's is on the right. It was a gorgeous day.

Note: "Rusty"has 2 victory markings (one earned by Bill, the other earned by Rusty's prior pilot, Lloyd French).

Profile 28 - DEL-O-MINE as flown by Burton Hawley

2008-11-09T14:12:00.000-08:00

"Dell-O-Mine" took her pilot Burton Hawley over German-occupied territory in southern France, northern Italy and everywhere in between, sneaking photos of shipping and troop movements.

The "F-5" is a relatively unknown airplane. However, the F-5's brother, the P-38 Lightning, is one of the significant fighter aircraft of WW2. Indeed, the United States' highest scoring ace, Richard Bong, racked his score of 40 in a P-38 over the Southwest Pacific. But there's no way Burt would have ever made ace in his F-5. The airplane was completely unarmed, save for rolls of large-format film.

To help understand the reality of being "unarmed," imagine going to work without the obvious tools of the trade. A doctor without medicine. An engineer without plans. A teacher without curriculum. A minister without a holy writ. A fighter without guns.

I asked Burt what it was like to fly into enemy territory without the ability to defend himself and his normally cheerful demeanor changed. "You have to keep your wits about you," he said solemnly, eyes narrowing, face tightening - just a bit. He cast a quick glance toward the door, then laughed. And so it is - the "recon" pilots I've met have been exceptionally aware - like cats.

One story Burt shared was when he was bounced by an Me-109. Typically, a P-38, loaded with ammo, fuel and armor, was less than a "match" for the German Messerschmitt. However, the F-5 version was lighter. Without guns, without armor, the twin-engined camera was speedy and relatively agile. Burt was able to hold his own, keeping his airplane out of his foe's line of fire.

The fact that Burt's machine was unarmed was probably known by the German pilot. Burt recalled being in a tightly banked tail-chase, close enough to look up through his canopy and see the 109 pilot work his throttle and shoot back a hunter's scowl. At such a distance, the camera bulges and absence of gun barrels would have been obvious.

Of course, in 1944, many of the Luftwaffe's better pilots were dead. More and more, newbies were required to complete their training in combat against the steady supply of well trained, well equipped Allied boys. Maybe the 109 pilot was such a tyro. Maybe not. One thing is for certain, if Burt would have tried to cut and run, the 109 could have had him dead-to-rights. He had no choice but to stay in the swirl and dodge like an armless boxer on nimble feet.

And then, the 109 turned away. Out of fuel? Out flown? A moment of mercy? Who knows.

Burt then went back to flying his intended mission. Shaken, stirred. But unwilling to give up his duty.

Having never been in combat, I'd imagine there's an obligation to colleagues, to one's honor and the "mission." Knowing Burt, I can see how he'd put the narrow escape behind him and get back to the job he was called to do. However, a scan of the actual Combat Report is below. Having read most of his combat reports, Burt was rather practiced at getting out of harms way...and shooting nothing more than film.

PS - "Dell-O-Mine" was a shared airplane. While Burt named "his side" of the plane after his t0-be wife, Bob Vogel named his side, "The Green Weenie."

Burt was no weenie.

The artwork of Burt's airplane is the result of painstaking research. Dozens of photos, books and individual memories were scoured to ensure accuracy. But in the end, no one is quite sure that Dell-O-Mine #709 was as its shown. The known photos of her are obscure and changes on the factory floor happened often. Additionally, the 23rd PRS didn't have consistent standards on markings. So, it's likely that details have been missed - which is ironic because 709's mission was all about "the details" - this machine was a photo-reconnaissance airplane designed to take highly detailed photos of the enemy during WW2.