The term “one of the unsung aircraft of WWII” is a sobriquet that, in my opinion, is often overused. Namely, most of the planes tagged as unsung/neglected/overlooked were aircraft either built in very few numbers, were ineffective (see: built in very few numbers), or worse, lousy at their job. For such machines, being labeled “unsung” would imply they had done things worth singing about but were somehow overlooked by ill-informed or biased critics.
Then we have the A-24 Banshee, an airplane that did plenty to sing about but is indeed as non-sung of a WWII aircraft as they come.
Based on the A-24’s record as a frontline combat aircraft, it should be very well known then and now: They were in service throughout America’s involvement in the war and every theater of operations. They were rugged, reliable, and effective. Lastly, they were built in sufficient quantities (almost 1,000) to make a difference.
Nevertheless, the A-24 is little known outside the world of WWII airplane aficionados/geeks. The reasons are simple: Mustangs, Lightnings, Thunderbolts, and other pursuit ships also made excellent multi-role fighter bombers and eventually took away much of Banshee’s reason for being. Furthermore, when discussing WWII light bombers, the Marauders, Havocs, and Mitchells will always come first to mind. Moreover, all of these planes – fighters and bombers – were built in the tens of thousands. Yes, almost 1,000 Banshees were built, but that number pales compared to the volume of better-known aircraft manufactured during WWII. The A-24 – despite its effectiveness – was simply not going to be as famous as many other aircraft.
Unfortunately, the A-24 Banshee has never received the attention it deserves. Not only has it long been overshadowed by the other fighters and bombers of the Army Air Forces, it also had the misfortune to have a far more famous look-alike cousin, the preeminent ship-killing aircraft of WWII, the SBD Dauntless.
If avid fans of outrageously inexpensive films were to go back in time to the late 40s & early 50s, one actress they would instantly seek out would be Jane Adams, queen of the B-film screen. Whatever picture genre one fancied – westerns, horror, sci-fi, or romance, to name but a few – Jane Adams was your gal.
Alas, her career in more mainstream pictures never materialized, but that’s okay; she was easy to look at and made movies that, with a ready supply of cocktails, still make great late-night entertainment. (Hard to go wrong with features such as House of Dracula, Rustler’s Round-Up, and Tarzan’s Magic Fountain)
As seen in this publicity photo, Adams (real name Betty Bierce) was another of the charming women that aircraft manufacturers considered vital in selling flying machines.
Jane Adams as “Nina, The Hunchbacked Nurse” in House of Dracula (1945).
Baseball history fans will undoubtedly know what occasion caused these men in the autumn of 1957 to decorate one of their planes and then throw their hats in the air. For those who don’t know the significance of the situation, here’s a hint: the Milwaukee Braves had just won the World Series. The photo was taken at Davis-Monthan AFB in Arizona, where, as seen in the picture, the men of the 303rd Bomb Wing’s 358th Bomb Squadron included more than a few Milwaukee fans.
In the late 1940s, the USAF made a wise purchase when they ordered a militarized version of the Cessna Model 195 – the LC-126A. Outfitted with floats for service as a rescue bird in Alaska, the USAF never bought the plane in great numbers (only a dozen or so). Still, what it lacked in numbers, it made up for in style because the Cessna 195/LC-126, in this man’s opinion, is one of the most handsome aircraft ever built.
In the photo, 49-1949 of the 10th Rescue Squadron, Elmendorf AFB, Alaska, undergoes riverside maintenance out in the bush. It’s summer, but that only means hordes of mosquitoes – all of whom have a million children – are swarming unseen in the picture. This particular plane was saved for posterity by the Air Force and now resides in the USAF Museum, painted as seen here 75 years ago.
The year is 1941, and the place is the brand-new Coast Guard Air Station San Francisco. The occasion for the photo was the arrival of the base’s first aircraft, this JF-2.
Judging by their dirty coveralls, these mechanics of the 28th Bomb Squadron at Nichols Field in the Philippines deserve some shady rest. And, as seen by the helmet and goggles of the nearest man to the camera, the mechanics did not spend all their time on the ground. The plane is a Keystone B-3, and these men, having gotten the plane ready for flight, will serve aboard as aircrew.
A cheerful pilot of Air Defense Command’s 63rd Fighter Interceptor Squadron proudly poses with his F-86D at Oscoda AFB, Michigan, in the early 1950s. Nice looking airplane, but it was fated to crash in 1955 while serving with the 85th FIS.
Sporting a wide variety of flying apparel, pilots of the 442nd Pursuit Squadron pose before a Consolidated PT-1 “Trusty” during Air Corps maneuvers circa 1930. The unit was a reserve squadron headquartered in Boston.
Bearing no squadron markings, BuNo 0360 is seen between “owners”.
Another view of 0360.
This aircraft (0335) was lost while on patrol in 1942. Pilot Harold Dixon, bombardier Anthony Pastula, and radioman Gene Aldrich survived 34 days lost at sea in a saga later immortalized in the book “The Raft”. The story was also made into a movie, “Against the Sun” (2014)).
Seen in the markings of Torpedo Six, this aircraft (0324) was transferred to Torpedo Eight where it met its end during the Battle of Midway.
Unknown TBD of VT-3.
Torpedo Two of USS Lexington. I believe this is BuNo 0298. Aircraft was lost in the Marshall Islands in 1942.
Perched on their catapult atop the No. 3 turret of the USS Pennsylvania, a pair of Vought O3U-3s of Observation Squadron Two (VO-2) stand by to carry out another assignment. The O2U/O3U Corsair was the standard observation aircraft for the USN for about ten years (1927-1937) – a most notable achievement in an era when the life expectancy of almost every design type was measured in only a few years. Pennsylvania was the flagship of the U.S. Fleet during the interwar years, reflected in the immaculate condition of the ship and its aircraft.
Seattle paperboys get a good look at a real jet plane.
NAS Seattle and jets did not mix. Noise complaints abounded, and the runway was way too short.
What young man of the 1950s didn’t want to climb all over a real jet airplane? These boys are getting the grand tour of a TV-2 because they are top performers in sales and in excellence of service in their chosen profession. They are paperboys, and as a reward for their efforts, their employer, The Seattle Times, took them to both Naval Air Station Seattle and the nearby stadium for the University of Washington, where they were treated to a football game (Photo dated September 21, 1957: Washington v. Colorado ended in a 6-6 tie).
Smaller, straight-wing jets like the Lockheed TV were about all the 5,000-foot runway at NAS Seattle could handle. The base was on the shores of Lake Washington, and the runways had no overrun. If you landed long or short, you went swimming. Encroachment was also a serious issue: The city of Seattle had no problems permitting home construction right next to a military air base. And, as is always the case, those freshly arrived homeowners acted dumbstruck and indignant that a military runway could be rather noisy. Therefore, the local’s motto became NAS Seattle delenda est.
The first five photos are of the same Western Air Express aircraft (NC 13327). Number six is a United Airlines 247 involved in what appears to be a less than lethal mishap. The involved aircraft and the circumstances of the event are unknown, so please send a message if you have some info.
Sporting symbols denoting 211 missions, a snazzy-looking A-4C of VA-144 is seen from the summer of 1967. This aircraft (147822) crashed a few years later in 1972.
Another A-4C of the 60s, 147749 of VA-112, shares the ramp with an F-8 Crusader of VF-111.
Next 3 photos: Some detail shots of this A4D-2N of VA-153.
This aircraft (147680) crashed in 1974.
Another A4D-2N from the early 60’s is 147720 of VA-93.
This A-3 (142672) was converted into a VA-3B soon after its delivery to the USN. The “V” in VA, of course, designates this aircraft for VIP usage, and that is what the bird did for many a year, including when this photo was taken in the 1960s. The plane is visiting Boeing Field, wings are folded, and the drag chute is tugging along behind just out of the picture. This airframe was retired for a while, then brought back into service for a more conventional electronic warfare role. In that role, the aircraft met its fate in 1985 when it crashed, killing all crewmen.
The first photo shows a sporty-looking JD-1 Invader (89073) basking in the Hawaiian sunshine at NAS Barbers Point in the early 1950s. The aircraft belonged to VU-1, a utility squadron that flew a variety of props, jets, and helicopters. With that mixed bag of aircraft, the squadron pulled targets, took photos, performed rescue missions, and did pretty much anything else the Navy could think of. The bird seen here was primarily a target tug. Its white wall tires nicely complemented an overall paint scheme that included blue, red, and yellow. The photo’s caption reads, “This is the crate I work on.” The JD-1(s) in the second photo belong to VU-7.
“Grace and speed” are not adjectives that come to mind when one glances at a Loening OA-1. On the other hand, the aircraft was incredibly tough and reliable and saw far more years of service than your average airplane of the era. Seen here bobbing on the waters of Lake Gatun in Panama, this bird (26-436) is from the 7th Observation Squadron based at France Field in the Canal Zone. Judging by the smoke stains angling from the exhaust stacks toward the cockpit area, flying could be an aromatic and messy experience. (Like many aircraft of the 1920s, Loening’s OA-1 was not unique in that regard)
Outlying Field, Mount Vernon, Washington. Today, it serves as Skagit Regional Airport, but when it was constructed during WWII, it was an auxiliary field for NAS Whidbey Island just a short hop away. It continued intermittently as a naval training field but was declared surplus in the late 1950s.
No one had the correct guess, but a couple of frequent visitors to this website knew the name because I had previously shown them the photo. Gentlemen that they are, they kept their knowledge to themselves, refraining from trying to be the most brilliant guy in the room.
Next time you are in the area, stop by and visit the Heritage Flight Museum located at the airport.
If you were in a band back in the day, it seems that all you had to do was phone your local Air Force base or airport, and they would cheerfully supply an airplane for your photo shoot.
Lots of excellent album art here, as well as great music (for the most part, but to each his own).
Update: Here is a most worthy addition to the topic supplied by fellow aviation enthusiast Carrie. Nothing says, “holiday romance” like a vacation adventure in a nuclear bomber. Thanks, Carrie!
The Dash 80 roars off the runway at Seattle’s Boeing Field on July 15th, 1954.
Given Seattle’s infamously rainy weather, if there is one thing Boeing engineers know how to do, it is designing aircraft that handle well on rain-soaked runways.
NC74680 was the sole money maker for the short lived Totem Air Service of Alaska. Stripped of most of its Totem livery, the bird awaits new owners at Boeing Field.
The flagship of Totem Air in its earlier days.
Resting after long years of service with the RCAF, 11075 was sold and eventually was converted to a fire bomber.
Air France was also in the post-war Catalina business.
This PBY served with the Army Air Forces as an OA-10A, then later flew for various owners in Canada. Seen here in the markings of its former owner, Pacific Western Airlines, the bird was later purchased for use as a fire bomber. Sadly, it crashed, but the wreckage is stored at the Pima Air Museum.
Another bird that started life as an OA-10A. Seen here while operating with Alaska Coastal-Ellis Airlines, the plane later served owners in the US and Canada, but it has survived and is now on display at McChord AFB.
Nicknamed “Temptress”, N788C is seen at Boeing Field in the 1960s.
“Temptress” is now at the Liberty Aviation Museum in Ohio.
Update: We have a Winner! The base in question is Pendleton Field, Oregon. We tip our chapeau to “Guillaume” for being the first to correctly identify this week’s mystery airfield.
This mystery airfield (looking as if it fell out of the sky and landed in the middle of nowhere) is this week’s challenge. So, be the first to name this place and you will win the undying admiration of your aviation-minded colleagues.
It’s the early 1920s at Luke Field in the Hawaiian Territory, and men of the 6th Squadron take a moment from their busy toils to say “cheese” while posing happily in front of their DH-4s.
Under blazing African skies, passengers board a Handley Page H.P.42 for what will undoubtedly prove a bumpy ride. Resembling a sea of struts, the H.P.42 was a decent enough aircraft and despite its ungainly appearance, it proved popular with passengers.