Y1B-7 pilots of the 31st Bomb Squadron
Category: Army Air Corps & Army Air Service
Aloha From the 1930s
A-3 Falcons of the 26th Attack Squadron, Wheeler Field.
Keystone B-5s of Luke Field’s 72nd Bombardment Squadron pay a call to Wheeler.
P-12s of the 18th Pursuit Group warming up at Wheeler Field.
The photo’s caption says the crew of this DH-4 was “O.K.”. Well, that’s good, but despite having survived the crash, their troubles were not over: They have ended up in a field full of Opuntia ficus-indica, also known as the prickly pear cactus (“Panini” in Hawaiian). This no doubt caused a lot of cursing and swearing as the crew worked their way out of the field. Additional blasphemous language was supplied by the mechanics who arrived later to haul the wreck out of there.
Fairchild C-8
When this photo was taken on April 24, 1934, the 1st Observation Squadron at Mitchel Field, NY, was mainly in the business of flying the Curtiss O-1 Falcon. However, they also had this Fairchild C-8 for hauling cargo and personnel from place to place. This C-8 (31-463) was one of only 14 ever built for the Air Corps.
The propeller shop at Randolph Field was a busy place in the 1930s…
One would be forgiven when seeing these photos for laughing at what appears to be multiple views of one pilot’s misfortune. Unfortunately (for the taxpayer, that is) these are different aircraft on (I assume) different days. Same plane – the BT-14 – and, same place – Randolph Field. The invention of the tricycle landing gear was a welcome addition to the world of flying, especially for those who were just getting started.
USS Los Angeles in Puerto Rico
In May of 1925, the mighty airship USS Los Angeles (ZR-3) paid a call to the steamy waters of Puerto Rico where, as it swung lazily from its tender, USS Patoka, it attracted quite a crowd. Judging by the number of rowboats, I would guess a tidy business was underway where, for the right price, one could get a closer look at the giant airship.
Shooting Stars
48-905 and 48-900 of Air Materiel Command.
This P-80A (44-85031) was, in all probability, the first jet aircraft that many in this crowd had ever seen.
85031 was assigned to the 71st Fighter Squadron when it crashed in 1947.
44-85044 of Wright Field’s Test Division.
44-85123 of the Test Division, Wright Field, won the Thompson Trophy in 1947. This aircraft is now stored at Edwards AFB.
44-85247 was another P-80A assigned to Wright Field’s Test Division.
45-8320 of the 61st Fighter Squadron, Jet Propelled.
44-85460, Wright Field Test Division.
49-477 , Air Proving Ground, Eglin AFB.
44-85257 of the 56th Fighter Group
45-8310 of the 161st Reconnaissance Squadron, Jet Propelled.
45-8568 of the Indiana Air National Guard.
8568 was assigned to the 163rd Fighter Bomber Squadron.
44-85401 was another P-80 belonging to the 61st Fighter Squadron.
TV-1 (3841) of NAS Seattle. This aircraft is now on display at the Seattle Museum of Flight.
France, 1918
Caproni Ca.5 at a French airfield.
Caudron G.3 at Châteauroux-La Martinerie, 1918.
From the shade of the hangar, French pilots take a look at an RFC Handley Page 0/400.
DH.4 of the US Air Service.
Last of the Shark Tails…for now
Still more early B-17s…
More B-17 Shark Tails
Another look at the pre-war B-17
Note that the aircraft is labeled the YB-18 – oops.
Shark Fin B-17s
Let’s take a look at the early birds of the B-17 world…
Boeing Model 299
A salute to the forerunner of the world’s most famous bomber. Most of the photos taken of the 299 are well known, but here at Jivebomber’s you not only get to see them again, but in many cases, they are original 1935 photographs from long-discarded Boeing archives. Enjoy.
The Seattle Star of July 17, 1935, tells us that Boeing’s “Mystery Bomber” had rolled out the factory door only the day before.
The 299 being ogled by appreciative onlookers at Boeing Field. Another famous product of that company can be seen in the hangar – the P-26.
The 299 takes to the skies.
Artist’s conception of the Model 299 over Wright Field, Ohio.
Stinson Vigilant
The Stinson L-1 Vigilant seen here has had a long and interesting life. Delivered to the Air Corps in 1941, 40-3012 served all over the United States before being purchased at the war’s end by legendary Hollywood pilot, Paul Mantz. After decades of work as a camera plane, this airworthy craft now resides in the Fantasy of Flight museum in Florida. This photo shows the plane shortly after its sale to Mantz. The aircraft had last been assigned to the Air Transport Command (ATC) division in Alaska (that is the difficult to see totem pole insignia below the cockpit).
This L-1 was a rare bird. Built as 41-18912 for the Army Air Force, it was equipped with floats and redesignated the L-1F. Only a handful were so converted.
The 94th Pursuit Squadron
The 94th Pursuit Squadron of Selfridge Field out for a drive in the mid-1930s. Great photo – you can practically hear the engines roaring. The aircraft are, of course, P-26s.
Curtiss P-36 Hawk, 1940-41
We see a rather rare photo here: a pre-war P-36 sporting a bare metal finish with national insignia on its fuselage. Perhaps this can be explained by the fact that in late 1940, the Air Corps was conducting experiments with camouflage as well as the placement of the national insignia. This P-36 is assigned to Maxwell Field’s 23rd Composite Group – the unit that carried out such testing.
“Regular Army Officers”
The aircraft is, of course, a DH-4. The place is somewhere hot (note the sun’s x-ray effect on the wings). The date is sometime in the 1920s.
The man in the center is Hap Arnold who wears his Military Aviator badge beneath his wings.
Carl Ben Eielson, aviation pioneer
Carl Ben Eielson earned his wings during World War I with the Army Air Service, became a post-war barnstormer, then headed north to Alaska and began making a name for himself. He flew the mail to remote towns where only dog sleds had gone before, started an airline, became a polar explorer, and made the first flight over the North Pole from Alaska to Norway. He died on a rescue mission in 1929, but his legacy lives on (Eielson Air Force Base, Alaska, is named in his honor).
Eielson’s aircraft of choice during his bush pilot days in Alaska was a Curtiss JN-4D “Jenny”, seen here. Weathered and beaten with the faded name “Fairbanks” emblazoned on its olive-drab fuselage, this aircraft (AS 47358) managed to survive and is now on display at Fairbanks Airport in Alaska.
His passenger is Mrs. Ladessa Nordale, wife of Fairbanks newsman Hjalmer Nordale. Mrs. Nordale later became a prominent Alaska judge. One her more interesting cases involved her ruling on whether an automobile constituted a whorehouse. Despite such establishments being illegal, a young lady (of easy virtue) was plying her trade in the back seat of her Cadillac (business must have been good). Judge Nordale ruled the Cadillac was indeed a den of ill-repute and put the motorized entrepreneur out of business. This provided some comedy given that the judge herself drove a Cadillac.
Major Muse and his P-12
When this photo was taken May 28, 1934, Major Muse was commanding officer of Crissy Field, San Francisco. A somewhat stout gentleman, Muse must have found the P-12 cockpit (or those of most pursuit ships of the day) a rather tight fit. There is what appears to be a pole or staff protruding from the aft fuselage – no idea what it’s for.
The R.34 comes to America
When the British airship R.34 crossed the Atlantic in 1919, she and her crew became instant celebrities. Taking off from Britain on July 2, the crew battled winds, storms, freezing conditions and a rapidly dwindling fuel supply before arriving 108 flying hours later. Hovering over a field in Mineola, NY, the airship discharged its first cargo – Major John Pritchard – who parachuted down in order to organize the landing party below. This was necessary due to the fact there was no one in the United States who had any experience in handling such a craft. As the photos illustrate, obviously Pritchard was successful. He also became the first man to arrive in America by air (and parachute).
The first photo shows R.34 resting after its journey. Scattered and stacked all around are hundreds of hydrogen cylinders to provide gas for the trip home. Why the whole place wasn’t blown to kingdom come is probably a miracle in itself.
Photo #2 is interesting in that the men of the 278th Aero Squadron decided to use the R.34 as a backdrop for their group photo. At this time, the 278th was being disbanded at Mineola, and the arrival of R.34 was obviously inspiring. This is the only explanation because the 278th certainly had nothing whatsoever to do with airships (other than trying to shoot them down, should the opportunity present itself.).
The last photo is an example of how the R.34 compared to the Woolworth Building in New York City. It being, in 1919, the tallest building in the world Woolworth’s was always a handy prop for comparison (ocean liners, airships, etc.).
Boeing bombers that never flew
Here are a few Boeing designs that never made it too far off the drawing board : the Models 436, 461, 474, and 704. Although these models were never flown, you can see a lot of their elements in the B-47’s and B-52’s that were.
27th Pursuit Squadron, 1939
Sporting some rather bizarre camouflage paint schemes, P-36 Hawks of Selfridge Field’s 27th Pursuit do some fancy flying for the camera. Contrary to popular belief, the camo paint was not part of some war game exercise but rather for display – the 1939 National Air Races in Cleveland, Ohio. In theory, the water-based paint could be easily removed. In practice, that was not quite so: broad areas were washed clean, but the paint adhered itself into every panel seam and rivet head.
Fast forward: In the early 1980s, a pair of A-10s from my base in Alaska were given a water-based “Arctic white” paint job over their normal dark green. Used only for a one week exercise, the white paint was then given a rinse. Same results as in 1939. Every place that was not a smooth flat surface had white paint clinging to it. Every panel, rivet, and screw head was highlighted making for two hideous-looking A-10s. Eyesores that they were, the two aircraft were parked together at the far end of the ramp.
RCAF Mk. IV Mustang
Starting life as P-51 44-73097, this Mustang was transferred to the RCAF in 1947 where it acquired the serial no. 9566. It sported the original blue and red RCAF roundel when this photo was taken at (probably) RCAF Station Chatham. Also noteworthy is the original USAAF data stenciled on the side. This aircraft crashed in 1953.
PB4Y, 1945
A PB4Y Privateer enjoys a sunny day at NAS Whidbey Island’s Ault Field in 1945. Given the obvious lack of protection from the as yet unfinished hangar, it is just as well that it is a sunny day. In the background is the base theater – still in use as such today.
Oddball Aircraft
The Westland-Hill Pterodactyl was one of a number of tailless aircraft designed by that firm in the 1920s. A revolutionary idea, but I have to say that in looking at this photo one would be excused for thinking it was the result of some dire mishap.
Due to its flying characteristics (to say nothing of its appearance), the Vickers Vulcan carried the nickname “Flying Pig”.
The YC-123 was fitted with skis, wing floats, and a host of other devices with the idea of having an aircraft that could fly (and land) just about anywhere.
VB-17G (44-83259) was a VIP transport for General Carl Spaatz during the time he was the Air Force’s first Chief of Staff. The aircraft was nicknamed “Boops” after his daughter.
Boeing’s XAT-15 was a promising trainer but was elbowed aside in favor of other designs. Somewhat of a throwback in construction (it used a lot of wood), the aircraft is seen here at Boeing’s Wichita plant (note the Stearmans in the background).
The XB-24N (44-48753) was another one-off Liberator, but not too bad an idea. It did illustrate that a B-24 was doable with only a single horizontal stabilizer.
The Vultee Vulture in its original configuration. With the snug-fitting engine cowl and nacelle, one could easily mistake the aircraft for having a liquid-cooled engine. It did not, but the engine didn’t like it so Vultee eventually opted for a more conventional open cowl.
The XB-24J (42-73130) was a one of a kind aircraft that incorporated the nose of a B-17G. (Translation: Okay, maybe that wasn’t such a hot idea after all.) Due to the numerous “Frankenstein” versions of highly modified B-24s, there must have been something about its design that caused engineers to have fantasies about modifying the aircraft into something it was never intended to be.
