|
April 6, 1942 Life
 [Table of Contents]
Wax nostalgic about and learn from the history of early
technology. See articles from Life magazine,
published 1883-1972. All copyrights hereby acknowledged.
|
This 1942 Life magazine article
profiles a B-17E Flying Fortress bomber and its nine-man crew, detailing their roles
in America's early WWII air campaign against Japan. The bomber, part of the 342nd
Bombardment Squadron, operates as a self-contained "task force," capable of delivering
devastating strikes like Colin Kelly’s sinking of the battleship Haruna. The crew
- four officers (pilot, copilot, navigator, bombardier) and five enlisted gunners
- undergo six weeks of operational training at MacDill Field to forge teamwork essential
for survival. The B-17E's firepower includes eight .50-caliber machine guns manned
by the enlisted crew, while officers navigate, bomb, and pilot. The piece highlights
individual crewmen, from 22-year-old Pilot Lt. Dallas to 27-year-old Engineer Sgt.
Kowalczik, emphasizing their youth and diverse backgrounds. Missions involve precise
coordination: the bombardier guides the plane via a secret bombsight, releases payloads,
and the gunners repel enemy fighters. The bomber's success hinges on disciplined
teamwork, not just technology.
Task Force: The Big Bomber Learns Its Job
The 38 men who fly the big bomber and who keep it fit to fly
are shown here with their plane. Out in front is the plane's flying crew of four
officers, five enlisted men. Behind is the ground maintenance crew, headed by the
master sergeant and crew chief. Eight of his mechanics are engine men, two assigned
to each engine. The other two are airplane frame mechanics. This ground crew works
on just one plane, is as much a part of it and devoted to it as the flying crew.
The specialists standing behind them, each an expert in his own line, work on many
planes. The bomb-supply squad is standing beside a truck loaded with a dozen 300-lb.
bombs. Behind the plane's wing at left are base operations men who give weather
information and dispatching orders to the whole squadron. The oil truck holds a
week's oil supply for eight planes. The gasoline truck holds a day's fuel supply
for four planes.
An air task force, like any task force, is a military group sent out to do a
given job. Some day, U. S. air task forces will include dozens of bombers escorted
by scores of fighters. But so far in this war almost all of America's aerial task
forces have been made up of a few heavy Boeing bombers sent over the South Pacific
to drop bombs through four or five miles of air on the invading Japanese. Or the
task force has been just one single big bomber off to do its job on solitary mission.
Such a bomber, a B-17E Flying Fortress, is shown at left along with the men who
fly it and the men who service it. It is a plane in B Flight of the 342nd Bombardment
Squadron of an Army Group, attached to the Third Bomber
Up in the cockpit, Pilot Dallas sits in the left-hand seat. He
wears a throat microphone which leaves his hands free, still enables him to talk
on interphone to all crew members.
The copilot sits at pilot's right. Ready for take-off, pilot
and copilot look backward for aerial engineer's OK. Pilot has hand on throttle.
Copilot has hands on fuel mixture controls.
The navigator's desk is a tiny table in back of the bombardier's
position. With his flight path computer, compass and rulers he is laying out a course
on map of lower Florida.
Out in the nose is the bombardier's post. The bombsight (not
visible) is kept in front of him. On the floor beside him is his data case. Here
he has his hand on the interphone switch.
Command. One bomber like this is itself a crushing task force. Already thousands
of Japanese troops have felt the heavy death its bombs bring and their planes have
felt the fatal stings of its machine guns. This kind of plane was Colin Kelly's
task force when he sank the battleship Haruna.
At MacDill Field near Tampa, Fla., the Third Bomber Command puts its task forces
together. The bomber, assembled from its thousands of parts, comes all ready to
fly. But the bomber crew comes unassembled. MacDill Field is the final assembly
line. Officially, the process is known in the Air Force as operational training.
In six weeks of operational training, the nine men of the crew work together
and get to know each other. There are four officers and five enlisted men in the
crew. The officers are second lieutenants, some of them with their wings hardly
dry. All the officer crew have graduated from advanced training. They come as multi-engine
pilots after having gone through the Army air schools like those at Randolph, Kelly
and Ellington fields. They come as qualified navigator and bombardier from technical
schools. The enlisted men - a sergeant, two corporals, two privates on this plane
- come from the Air Force's special schools.
Boarding the plane, pilot and copilot walk together, which is
customary. They come aboard last, which is also customary. They wear heavy clothes
for high-altitude work.
Lieutenant Dallas relaxes by going with girls, who find airman's
wings and attraction. Girls with autos are popular with officers. Autos make social
life easier, less expensive.
The "Office" in which the pilots sit has glass all around it
and a glass panel in the roof. Right in back of cockpit and above it is the top
turret which, in emergency, copilot would man.
Lieutenant Holmes has fun at the officer's club where, faced
by signs which caution him, he plays dices for drinks and talks more about flying
than anything else.
Sighting the sun with his octant, Navigator Wilfert sits up in
the nose of the plane beside bombardier. He relies on celestial navigation more
than on dead reckoning to set his course.
With his secret bombsight, Jefferson comes aboard. Bombsight
is his responsibility. No one else may handle it. He carries a .45 automatic lest
anyone try to snatch sight.
Lieutenant Wilfert enjoys himself telling Cajun dialect stories
learned back home. he gets $150 a month base pay, plus $75 a month flying pay and
maintenance.
Lieutenant Jefferson's fun is limited by fact that, not having
wings yet he gets no extra flying pay. A studious soldier anyway, he stays in his
Spartan quarters and bones.
The men are of all kinds. One was a geophysicist, another a teacher, another
an elephant boy. They have one thing in common. They are all young. Oldest men in
the crew are 27 and their average Air force service is two years. Out of these diverse
men, the Army must quickly build a close-working team because team-work - the quick
reaction of pilot to bombardier's guidance and the co-ordinated cover of fire laid
down by the eight heavy machine guns - is worth more than any super-secret bombsight
or any special armament.
The bomber is the B-17E, fifth of the great line of Boeing's Flying Fortresses.
The big bomb bay, which is able to carry tons of bombs, lies in the fuselage belly,
between the wings.
Pilot Second Lieutenant Frederick W. Dallas, 22, of Leonard,
Texas, flies the plane and he has to be good at it. The best navigator in the world
could get lost if his pilot wandered. The keenest bombardier in the Air Force would
miss by hundreds of yards if his pilot wobbled or got off course. Son of a petroleum
engineer, Dallas enlisted in the artillery in 1939, transferred to the Air Force
in 1940, went through Randolph and Kelly fields to get his wings. After service
in a reconnaissance squadron he came to MacDill where he is flight commander, in
charge of four planes.
Copilot Second Lieutenant John Hooper Holmes, 25, of Selma,
Ala., is the plane's other pilot. He can relieve the pilot during flight. But his
main job is to look after all the vital operational details. He watches the instruments
to see that the plane is performing properly. He retracts and lets down the wheels,
works the wing flaps, watches propeller pitch. Son of a food and fodder broker,
Holmes enlisted in the Air Force in 1941, took basic training at Randolph and bi-motor
training at Ellington Field. He was commissioned a few weeks ago, sent directly
to MacDill.
Navigator Second Lieutenant Joseph Clemens Wilfert, 27, of Eunice,
La., has to start the plane on the course toward the objective, keeps it on course
until the bombardier takes over for the bombing, then brings it home again. This
is no small job in a heavy bomber which flies on long missions at high altitudes,
often out over the sea. Son of a hotelkeeper, Wilfert enlisted in the Air Force
last year. After ten hours of pilot primary training he "washed out," transferred
to navigation school, was out on Atlantic patrol duty before coming to MacDill.
Bombardier Second Lieutenant Harold Jefferson. 23, of Moundsville,
W. Va., takes charge of guiding the plane as soon as he sights the objective. He
peers at the target through his bombsight, which is supposedly the best in the world.
He tells the pilot where to go, at what speed and at what height to fly. Then, while
still miles above and away from his target, he releases the bombs. The son of a
country schoolteacher, Lieutenant Jefferson "washed out" of primary pilot training,
went to technical school, now is about to get his wings as a bombardier.
No. 2 Radioman and bottom turret gunner, Private Harold Leroy
Langhofer, 24, of Hope, Kan., squeezes into his turret (above). Inside, curled like
an embryo, he can turn turret around and down so that it fires in any direction.
When swung down, turret hatch opens into the plane.
No. 2 Aerial Engineer and waist gunner, Private Clarence Bauer,
20 of Adrian, Mich., pokes his .50-cal. machine gun out of side window (below).
He mans only this gun. Radio operator handles other waist gun. In flight, all crew
wear headphones connecting to pilot and each other.
No. 1 Aerial Engineer (left) is Technical Sergeant John Kowalczik,
27, of Hazleton, Pa. Here he makes out one of reports which keep him busy when not
inspecting, repairing, shooting.
No. 1 Engineer's Gun Position (right) is in
top turret. This picture, taken straight up at the ceiling, shows Kowalczik (top)
standing in his turret just behind pilot's and copilot's seats.
Radio Operator Corporal Melvin Curry Giles, 25, of Tampa, Fla.,
sits at his apparatus aft of aerial engineer's position. During an attack he would
rush back and handle waist gun.
Cameraman Corporal James Benedict Feeney, 26,
of Middleboro, Mass., who is also tail gunner, sits beside radio operator, takes
pictures of damage done to objectives with camera in floor.
Enlisted Men Handle Plane's Machine Guns
The offensive jobs in the task force are all done by the officers - the
pilots and navigator who fly the plane to the objective, the bombardier who explodes
it with a salvo of bombs. The job of defending the plane, however, falls on the
five enlisted men. They are the ones who handle the plane's machine guns when enemy
planes attack.
Each of the five men has a special job to do - aerial engineering, radio, photography.
But each one also has to be a good gunner. There are five gun positions: 1) top
turret just aft of the cockpit; 2) bottom turret, on the planes belly behind the
wings; 3) and 4) waist positions, one on each side of the middle of the fuselage;
and 5) the tail position, which is shown on the cover. Top and bottom turrets, which
are power operated, and the tail position, all have two .50-cal. guns. The bombardier
also has a smaller .30-cal. machine gun, but few planes are attacked from the front
and he seldom has to use it.
Job Is to Bomb and Get Back
When the big plane and its crew are finally all shaken together into a task force,
they have one job to do. They have to go out, drop bombs and then come home safely.
Before the plane sets out, the officers are told the objective, the course, the
landmarks. The weight of bombs needed to destroy the objectives is known and the
proper bombs are put in the racks.
Off on the Mission, the pilot looks out his window, sees the
other planes of his squadron flying in echelon, stepped up to the right. If attackers
should come the three planes would move quickly into "Vee" formation. In this position,
the squadron's cross-firing machine guns are able to lay down a veil of fire so
thick that no single spot on any of the planes is vulnerable.
When the plane nears the objective, the bombardier begins to guide the pilot.
He presses a switch and the big bomb-bay doors swing open. The pilot checks with
an interphone query: "Bomb-bay door open?" "Open," says the bombardier. The bombardier
peers through his bombsight, keeping the pilot on the course. The pilot steadies
the plane. The bombardier presses another switch. Falling from the plane's belly
in a neatly spaced train the bombs curve beautifully toward the ground.
Plane Takes Off. Through his "greenhouse" the bombardier sees
the concrete runway, streaked with black skid marks made by the big planes in the
first shock of landing. At about 90 m. p. h. the loaded bomber lifts off the ground.
Loading Bombs into the bomb bay is done by hand, two men lifting
each 100-lb. bomb and putting it into its rack.
|
