My parents had a good friend who flew 50 missions as a tail gunner on a B-24 Liberator in World War II. I recall him on occasion  discussing with my father, another World War II Air Force veteran, his time in service.

Early in the war, his group flew bombing missions out of Libya. As he described it, take-offs in Libya were highly dangerous since the big, lumbering B-24s  too often failed to become airborne in the hot, thin desert air. Fully loaded with fuel and bombs, they would crash, explode and burn, instantly killing all on board. Flight operations would continue as the remaining aircraft would take their chances at getting off the ground. The successful crews would pass over the flaming wreckage on their way to air combat with fighters and flak from below.

The tail gunner  was a kind man and an accomplished photographer. When I was ten years old, he loaned me a large framed  black and white photograph of a B-24 in flight at sunset over the Mediterranean that he had taken from his aircraft. The detail was striking. You could see clearly every minute detail of the aircraft as well as the pilot, a young guy in a baseball cap. As I learned later, that pilot died shortly after the picture was taken when the big, beautiful B-24 in the picture was shot down.

He also loaned me an A-2 leather flying jacket that had belonged to one of his good friends. Painted on its left front were the words “Wolf Pack” above a cartoon wolf with its drooling tongue hanging out. On the back were painted rows of bombs, one for each mission that his friend had flown. There were eighteen bombs, but the bottom row stopped short. The tailgunner had taken possession of the jacket when the owner was killed on a bombing raid, and he had been assigned to clean out his friend’s possessions and prepare the small, personal items for shipment home to the next of kin. The A-2 jacket was too large to send, so he kept it as a memento of his friend.

Last week, these memories of the tailgunner came back in a rush when I heard reports of the crash of the Nine-O-Nine, a Boeing B-17G, at Bradley International Airport in Windsor Locks, Connecticut. The three crew members and ten passengers died when it landed short and hit a de-icing facility. The cause of the crash is under investigation by the National Transportation Safety Board.

The original Nine-O-Nine was a B-17G of the 323rd Bomb Squadron, 91st Bomb Group, that completed a record 140 combat missions during World War II without loss to the crews that flew it. The B-17G that crashed last week was a representation painted in the colors and with the nose art of the original Nine-O-Nine.  It was  owned and operated by the Collings Foundation of Stow, Massachusetts and flown at airshows and for living history flights from 1986 to 2019.

Two years ago at the Naples, Florida airport, I toured the ill-fated Nine-O-Nine and the Witchcraft, a B-24 Liberator, also owned and operated by the Collings Foundation. The picture above shows the  Nine-O-Nine‘s nose art. The bombs represent missions flown. Below are  more pictures taken that day of the Nine-O-Nine and the Witchcraft.

One of the things that struck me about these airplanes was – with the exception of the waist gunner areas – how cramped the crew positions were. It took a special kind of courage to go into combat trapped in the claustrophobic and nearly inescapable confines of a ball turret (belly gunner position) or tail gunner seat. Just take a look.

The silver hatch above is the top of the Nine-O-Nine‘s ball turret into which the belly gunner had to insert himself. The shorter, smaller men were assigned to be ball turret gunners.

Here’s what the ball turret looks like from outside.

And here’s the tail gunner position on the Nine-O-Nine B-17G.

The Witchcraft B-24 Liberator.

The ill-fated Nine-O-Nine.

The sponsors of the Nine-O-Nine.

My day at the Naples Airport inspecting the Nine-O-Nine and the Witchcraft was a fascinating and emotional experience. It brought back memories of the tail gunner, my father and their comrades who served in the war. With the crash of the Nine-O-Nine, the Collings Foundation will doubtless be beset by the plaintiffs’ bar and future insurance and liability concerns. For the sake of my aging generation and our children, grandchildren and generations to come, I hope that the foundation stays the course and continues its important and inspiring operations.