Aces High Bulletin Board
		General Forums => Aircraft and Vehicles => Topic started by: Shane on January 13, 2012, 03:34:08 PM
		
			
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				ripped from another place - no direct link. interesting read.
 
 The Airplane that Ended a War
 Remembering the B-29 bomber and crew that flew the last major combat mission
 of World War II.
 By Stephen Pope / Published: Jan 10, 2012
 
 Enola Gay. FIFI. The Great Artiste. Kee Bird. The Big Stink.
 
 It was an airplane dubbed "Superfortress." Yet many of the most famous
 Boeing B-29 bombers that plied the skies during the latter days of World War
 II carried strangely meek-sounding individual names. Perhaps that's of
 benefit to our collective psyche since the airplanes in question were
 capable of raining such unfathomable destruction from above. After all,
 attaching a name to a killing machine is merely an attempt to humanize the
 brutality of war, isn't it?
 
 Virtually all combat B-29s had distinctive names, bestowed upon them by
 their crews. This is somewhat unusual since other bombers of the day,
 including the B-17 and B-24, were less likely to carry an individual name
 (although a great many did, Memphis Belle being perhaps the most famous
 example among many, many thousands).
 
 My interest in Superfortress naming arises from a familial link with the
 most famous (or second most famous, depending on how you rank them) B-29
 mission of all. My grandfather's first cousin (and my first cousin twice
 removed) was SSgt. Raymond Gallagher, a gunner on the B-29 that dropped the
 atomic bomb "Fat Man" on Nagasaki on Aug. 9, 1945. It was the mission that
 broke the will of the Japanese, and, as we all know, it marked only the
 second time an atomic weapon had been used in war after the Enola Gay
 dropped "Little Boy" on Hiroshima three days earlier.
 
 The oddest part of the Nagasaki mission, for me, was that cousin Ray was a
 crewmember aboard a B-29 called The Great Artiste and not Bockscar, the
 airplane that the history books tell us flew the Aug. 9 bombing run. Even
 stranger, the first news reporter to write about that mission referred to
 the airplane as The Great Artiste. And when Bockscar was first enshrined in
 an aviation museum, The Great Artiste and not Bockscar was painted on its
 nose.
 
 What gives? As Paul Harvey would say, here's the rest of the story:
 
 Bockscar, named after its aircraft commander, Capt. Frederick Bock, was
 indeed the B-29 that bombed Nagasaki - but it was flown on that day by a
 different crew. The mission had been assigned to the crew of The Great
 Artiste, commanded by Maj. Charles Sweeny. But his crew couldn't fly their
 own airplane, which had been outfitted with observation gear for the
 Hiroshima bombing run, in which they participated. Rather than take the time
 to refit The Great Artiste for bombing duty, its crew, which had practiced
 the dropping of Fat Man in Bockscar, commandeered that airplane for its
 mission.
 
 Here's where the story gets interesting. On the morning of the mission,
 Bockscar was found to have a faulty fuel transfer pump that made it
 impossible to use 625 gallons of fuel in the tail. As a result, Sweeny was
 warned to spend a maximum of 15 minutes at the rendezvous point, where
 Bockscar was to meet up with The Great Artiste and another B-29, The Big
 Stink.
 
 That 15-minute window stretched to 45 minutes after the third B-29 failed to
 reach the meeting point. Undeterred, Sweeny proceeded to the primary target,
 the Japanese city of Kokura, where Bockscar made three bombing runs - but
 each time thick cloud cover prevented the crew from dropping its ordnance.
 By the end of the third run, Japanese fighters were climbing through the
 overcast. Sweeny made the decision to head for the secondary target,
 Nagasaki.
 
 But the cloud cover over Nagasaki was no better. With fuel running
 critically low, the crew decided to bomb the city anyway, using radar. At
 the last moment, Kermit Beahan, the crew's highly skilled bombardier (from
 whom the The Great Artiste takes its name) spotted a break in the cloud that
 allowed him to confirm they were over Nagasaki (more or less) and drop their
 ordnance. (Even though the bomb missed its target zone, more than 70,000
 were killed in the detonation. Japan surrendered six days later.)
 
 Now 30,000 feet over Nagasaki, the crew of Bockscar faced a new problem.
 They didn't have enough fuel to make it back to base on Iwo Jima. Sweeny
 decided to fly to Okinawa instead, knowing he'd have enough fuel for only
 one landing attempt. As Bockscar began its final approach, a faster than
 normal descent, the number 2 engine quit due to fuel starvation. On
 touchdown, another engine quit as the fast moving B-29 lurched violently on
 the runway, nearly taking out a row of B-24s.
 
 There isn't much written in the historical record about Gunner Ray
 Gallagher, although some interesting letters, including this one, have been
 preserved. Commander Sweeny is another story. He was reamed out by General
 Curtis LaMay, chief of staff for the Strategic Air Forces, upon arriving in
 Guam days later. Col. Paul Tibbets, commander of the Enola Gay, wanted
 Sweeny disciplined for failure to command. But when the Japanese surrendered
 and the war abruptly ended less than a week later, the matter was quietly
 dropped.
 
 Today Bockscar is on permanent display at the National Museum of the United
 States Air Force in Dayton, Ohio. The display includes a replica of the "Fat
 Man" bomb and a simple sign bearing a concise and wholly accurate
 description: "The aircraft that ended WWII."
 
 View our Bockscar B-29 Superfortress Photo Gallery.
 
 http://www.flyingmag.com/blogs/fly-wire/airplane-ended-war?cmpid=011212&spPodID=030
 
 
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				Interesting read. Thanks Shane
			
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				Thank you for the info.  :salute
			
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				Wow, good stuff, thanks :salute
			
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				 :aok
			
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				in 1979 I made friends with an older Retire Colonel at Tinker AFB Oklahoma who was dying from Cancer. His wife said he was on 100% disability from radiation he received over Japan from carrying/dropping the Big One. I guess whether you were near it or above it when it detonated, either way, you were exposed.  :salute to those who stopped the madness and gave their all...years later.  :salute
			
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				interesting :aok
 
 
 Commander Sweeny is
 another story. He was reamed out by General Curtis LaMay, chief of staff for the Strategic Air Forces, upon
 arriving in Guam days later. Col. Paul Tibbets, commander of the Enola Gay, wanted Sweeny disciplined for
 failure to command.
 
 I must have missed something, why was Cdr Sweeny disciplined?
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				I must have missed something, why was Cdr Sweeny disciplined?
 
 
 probably this part:
 
 the cloud cover over Nagasaki was no better. With fuel running
 critically low, the crew decided to bomb the city anyway, using radar.  At
 the last moment, Kermit Beahan, the crew's highly skilled bombardier (from
 whom the The Great Artiste takes its name) spotted a break in the cloud that
 allowed him to confirm they were over Nagasaki (more or less) and drop their
 ordnance. (Even though the bomb missed its target zone,
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				interesting :aok
 
 
 I must have missed something, why was Cdr Sweeny disciplined?
 
 
 It's been a while since I read Tibbett's book but IIRC Sweeney delayed around 45 minutes at the RP waiting on another aircraft, perhaps a camera plane.  The plan was to push on, not wait if an aircraft wasn't at the RP.
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				that wouild be this then i guess:
 
 That 15-minute window stretched to 45 minutes after the third B-29 failed to
 reach the meeting point.
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				Curtis LeMay wrote about the event briefly in his book Superfortress without mention of any chewing out. He reports the troubles and the fact the plane barely made it to Okinawa. 
			
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				Interestingly enough, the Kawasaki aircraft plant in Nagasaki was the intended target.  It only missed a direct hit by about 2,000 meters IIRC, and of course still did catastrophic damage.  If you're ever in town, go to the museum and check it out--some pretty interesting stuff there.  There was a POW camp located about 9000 meters from ground zero, full of Brit and ANZAC prisoners, and they all survived.  Again, IIRC, the total destruction zone was only about 6000 meters from ground zero.  The terrain of Nagasaki (sort of built in a valley) limited the damage laterally.
			
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				A total destruction zone radius of "only 6,000 meters". Hundreds of fully loaded B-29s could not do this. Despite all the later, bigger, better weapons, the primitive "little" bombs that were dropped in Japan are still incredibly powerful by any normal measures. I can't imagine what the Japanese survivors thought or felt.
			
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				A total destruction zone radius of "only 6,000 meters". Hundreds of fully loaded B-29s could not do this. Despite all the later, bigger, better weapons, the primitive "little" bombs that were dropped in Japan are still incredibly powerful by any normal measures. I can't imagine what the Japanese survivors thought or felt.
 
 
 Just meant it was a heck of a lot smaller than I thought it'd be.  When you see the radii projected on a map, it challenges your preconceptions of "utter destruction" you get from watching documentaries.  A large portion of that city survived the attack, not something everyone realizes.
 
 And, I believe hundreds of fully loaded B-29s did do this, perhaps even worse, to Tokyo on the infamous fire-bombing raid.
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				     I feel extremely lucky to have seen both Bock's Car and the Enola Gay.  Bock's car at Wright-Patterson of course and the
 Enola Gay at the Garber restoration facility at Silver Hill, MD before they assembled her and took her to the NASM.
 
 The strange part was the chill I felt at Dayton, not due to the B-29, but seeing this next to the B-36.  Somehow it made a big
 impression just sitting there.
 
 Mark 17:
 (http://www.nationalmuseum.af.mil/shared/media/photodb/photos/090121-F-1234P-002.jpg)