Noorduyn’s Multitalented Norseman
Aircraft designer Robert Noorduijn/Noorduyn was born in the Netherlands, came to Canada, and didn’t design too many airplanes, but the ones he did cook up were pretty good birds, including his magnum opus, the Norseman. An aircraft that was in production for decades and can still be seen buzzing around to this day, the Norseman also made its way into the air forces inventories of many nations, including the United States, as seen here in World War II when it was known as the C-64.
Early Starfighters
The Beloved/Behated Helldiver
Despite being saddled with innumerable issues at the onset of its career, the Curtiss SB2C Helldiver did manage to eventually become a highly effective attack aircraft. Unfortunately for its reputation, though, it was trying to fill the shoes of a legend, a dive-bomber who was a very tough act to follow, the SBD Dauntless. Those who were involved with the Helldiver either loved the big “Beast” (as they called it), while at the same time, there were those who held it in contempt ( the SB2C as “Son of Bitch 2nd Class” was their sobriquet of choice).
Either way one looks at it, the Helldiver sank a lot of ships.
Air Corps Tin Geese
F-5A Lightning: “Kill’m With Fil’m”
Yoon-kers
Back in the 1920s, Junkers was way ahead of the competition when it came to modern design and function (looking at the company’s F13, it’s hard to believe it is over a century old). In a time when aircraft manufacturers were still quite content to swaddle their products in heaps of fabric, Junkers was already wrapping their birds in metal. It is little wonder then that Junkers, in the 1920s and 30s, was a force to be reckoned with.
Enroute To Arizona, Via Arizona
When these Vought O3U-1s of the battleship USS Arizona arrived at the “Fly Field” airport in 1931, there was good reason to take their photo. Namely, the place then called Fly Field (now known as Marine Corps Air Station Yuma) is located in the state of Arizona. The reason for the visit was that these aircraft were factory-fresh from Vought’s plant in Connecticut and were flying cross-country to join the USS Arizona at its homeport in California. Looking at the pilots, one can see by their weather-beaten faces that they have indeed been doing their share of open cockpit aviating. Once the planes complete their journey, their wheels will be replaced by floats, and markings will be applied to the fuselages denoting these planes were now officially part of Arizona’s observation squadron.
Naturally, no local photographer could resist taking a picture of a plane that bore his state’s name and this was especially true in Arizona, where the state’s 1931 population was about 1/19th of what it is today. In other words, seeing the name “Arizona” on anything was a big deal back in the day.
The logbook entry is from another Arizona airport, Davis-Monthan Field. The depicted page shows that these same airplanes had arrived at Davis-Monthan a few days earlier. The page is from a book that can be viewed online at dmairfield.org.
Fact: “Fly Field” was not just an appropriate name for an airport, it was an eponymous one as well – Colonel Benjamin Franklin Fly.
Shaw Field, Postwar AAF
As seen in these photos, mid-to-late 1940s Shaw Field (soon to be Shaw AFB) was a base sporting an impressive array of aircraft such as those seen here: P-61, AT-6, A-26, B-25, P-51, etc. A bonus is the visiting (and shortlived) Lockheed XR60-1 Constitution, one of only two built. Cause of demise: underpowered, overly expensive to operate. That said, the XR-60 Constitution is always good to remember when making a bet at your local bar. Just slap your dollar down, and then ask anyone to name the largest landplane ever flown by the US Navy.
Post-War Mustangs at Shaw Field
Here are a few photos from an airman who was stationed at Shaw Field (now Shaw AFB) in South Carolina, and, judging by the markings on these Mustangs, the pics were taken not terribly long after the war. Most of the birds are from the 20th Fighter Group, which arrived at Shaw in October 1946, so it is safe to date these photos to early-mid 1947.
The Forever Gorgeous B-58
Naval Air Station San Diego
As seen in these two photos, the area around Naval Air Station (NAS) San Diego in the 1930s was a busy place where ships, boats, and airplanes all vied for position on the harbor waters of the base’s namesake city. The navy, of course, later changed the name of their San Diego air base to its present title, NAS North Island. Even though the base’s land was not an island, that designation came about. At one time, it had been an island, but that enclave no longer existed, having been connected to the rest of California in the 1940s by ample loads of sand and gravel.
Nevertheless, what has not changed is that NAS San Diego/North “Island” is still a bustling locale; its nearby waters remain a swirl of ships, boats, and, though fewer in numbers from the seaplane-rich era of the 1930s, aircraft.
1969: Boeing Gets a B-47
As the B-47 fleet was retired in the mid-1960s, it occurred to Boeing that despite having built over 2,000 Stratojets for everyone else, they didn’t have one to call their own. This issue was happily resolved when the USAF handed its last operational B-47 (by then converted to a WB-47) to Boeing in 1969. That bird, 51-7066, is, of course, still at Boeing Field today, where it is proudly parked in front of the Museum of Flight.
The Navy’s Newest Mechanics…

…and the Navy’s newest fighter, the Corsair. The photo was taken in early 1943 at the Naval Air Technical Training Center Pier on the shore of Lake Michigan in Chicago.
AI Knows Everything…
When asked to generate two images of the “ugliest 1930s airplane“, Artificial Intelligence really had all the answers. So…Where to start… First of all, instead of creating the “ugliest” airplane of the 1930s, AI came up with what is actually a rather pleasing design. Then there are the children. In photo #1, they appear to be prostrating themselves and hailing the arrival of the not-at-all-ugly plane as if it is the mothership bringing their overlord from Planet Varzon-7 or some such place. In pic #2, the kids have stopped with the hosannas and now seem somewhat disappointed and subdued. No doubt they have seen the pilot who, rather than being an exotic space creature from a distant galaxy, looks like anybody’s grandpa. Of course, the children might also be somewhat alarmed that the aircraft has just thrown a prop blade, and it is headed their way.
Conversely, when AI was asked to come up with a couple of images for the “prettiest 1930s airplane“, the results are seen here. The planes are not bad-looking, but it is tough to make an accurate judgment, as AI is obviously incapable of discerning beauty from not. (See results for: “ugliest 1930s airplane”) Now, AI has generated quite a lovely landscape, which is so pretty that the airplanes are ruining the view. Moreover, like the “ugliest” planes of the 1930s, the “prettiest” ones also have their share of AI-created major mechanical malfunctions.
And don’t forget…every day, there is an increasing number of people who require the services of AI to help them spell…AI.
The Luftwaffe’s “Ooo-Hoo”
A fast and nimble night fighter, the Heinkel He 219, nicknamed the “Uhu” (“oo-hoo”) or “Owl”, was yet another of the Luftwaffe’s innovative aircraft that, despite being of sound design and capabilities, never made it into mass production. Reason: Like many German planes of the period, the He 219 was a victim of the tangled nightmare that was the Third Reich’s aircraft procurement process, an activity that was a never-ending battle of competing interests, overlapping areas of responsibility, and conflict. Hence, the He 219 was not built in sufficient numbers to have an effect on the air war in the nighttime skies of Hitler’s Germany.
There’s Always More Forts
Jimmie Mattern’s Vega
What started as a great airplane – the Lockheed Vega – became famous due to its usage in various aerial exploits in the 1930s. One such act of aviation derring-do came from Jimmie Mattern, who used the Vega in his attempts to circumnavigate the globe in 1932 and 1933. Alas, Mattern flew great distances and even set records, but he never made it around the globe; both of his attempts ended with a wrecked Vega in the Soviet Union.
Despite these setbacks, Mattern was one of the great contributors to aviation progress. This is reflected by the fact that when Apollo 11 went to the moon, Jimmie Mattern’s pilot license was carried aboard.
Scorpions
“The Highly Supersonic F-105 Thunderchief”
With the noteworthy exception of not dropping a thermonuclear bomb on invading armies (as was its original purpose), the F-105 Thunderchief, AKA the “Thud” (of course), pretty much performed every role one could think of and a few more as well. However, such achievements came with a price, especially in the skies over Vietnam during the first few years of the war. During that period, the 105 was the primary strike aircraft and had a loss rate to prove it: More than half of the F-105s that saw combat in Vietnam were shot down or otherwise crashed in-country. A poignant example of that loss rate is found in the attached photo, which shows the Thunderchief assembly line in 1960. In that picture, 17 Thuds can be identified by serial number; all would serve in Vietnam. Of those 17 aircraft captured in this random photo, 15 would be shot down. Very grim math, indeed.
Nevertheless, most F-105 guys thought they had the best plane in the world, a bird far superior to anything else that came to replace it (See: F-4 Phantom). These Thud drivers haughtily looked down their noses at any mere mortal who even remotely impugned the legend that was their F-105 Thunderchief.
I will leave you with a joke I heard decades ago from an F-4 pilot.
Q: “How many F-105 pilots does it take to screw in a light bulb?”
A: “Two. One guy to screw in the bulb, the other to talk about how great it was.”
Random Seaplanes, Flying Boats, And Other Things That Float And Fly
James E. Stewart, Flight Engineer
By the time this photo reached “Aunt Olga & Uncle Fred” back in his home state of Iowa, Private James Stewart had completed aerial gunner training at Harlingen, Texas, and was now at Keeseler Field in Mississippi for the next phase of his training, that of aircraft mechanic. Upon graduation from Keesler, newly promoted Sergeant Stewart was off to RAF Sudbury in Suffolk, Great Britain, where he served as a B-17 flight engineer with the 833rd Bomb Squadron, 486th Bomb Group. He flew his missions, survived running gun battles with the Luftwaffe, got blasted by flak batteries, and eventually returned home to Iowa.
Stewart did all these things while still a teenager.
XB-19A
Vanished: The “Hawaii Clipper”
