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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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"

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

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

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

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

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

"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

"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

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

"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

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!