Before I get to the flight, here's a few facts. The Collings Foundation's B-24 is the only licensed flying B-24 left in the world. There a few others that still fly, like the Confederate Air Force's LB-30 "Diamond Lil" (a cargo version of the B-24) and Kermit Week's Fantasy of Flight's B-24, formerly known as "Delectable Doris", but they are not licensed to carry passengers. This is a stunning fact when you consider there were over 18,500 B-24s made in the 1940's. And the US Navy had their own version called the PB4Y-1, which was essentially a B-24, and later a PB4Y-2, which was a single-tailed version of the B-24.

The B-24 could carry a heavier bomb load further than a B-17, and cruised at a higher speed as well. Much of this was due to the use of the high aspect Davis wing, which gave the Liberator its characteristic appearance. The B-24 was all business, and its appearance suggested such - it lacked some of the graceful lines of the B-17. But where the B-17 was known as "The Lady", the B-24 was known as "The Soldier" - self explanatory nicknames.

Liberators in formation

FLIGHT TIME

I was not alone on this flight of fancy (of course! I'm not a pilot!). There were seven passengers, of which I was one, and a pilot, co-pilot and flight engineer. Two of the passengers were fellows that flew the B-24 during the war, taking a flight down memory lane. One gentleman had flown with the 13th Air Force and was almost speechless, being consumed by memory and emotion. The other veteran had flown Liberators stateside for deliveries, but never made it overseas. It was a pleasure to share a ride with these men.

The B-17 loaded up and was first down the runway, and we watched it take off in a magnificent roll. The noise of the engines was wonderful, and generates emotion that can be caused by nothing else.

We then belted in with four of us against a bulkhead, and three younger fellows on the floor just aft of the ball turret. The flight engineer closed the lower access hatch and then climbed in and took position at the aft end of the waist area. It was then the huge Pratt and Whitney radial engines sputtered to life, rapidly reaching an ear piercing drone and vibrating the big plane like a blender. The bite of the propellors into the air was a high pitched roar, easily heard over the engines. We began to move and rapidly rolled towards the runway. I was busy videotaping at the time, trying to soak up all that I could of this adventure.

We got to the end of the runway, slightly askew to parallel with, and the pilot brought the engines up to 3/4 throttle with the brakes on. This is typical in a prop aircraft, to be sure all systems are functional. The big plane shook and vibrated and the noise was deafening - and also awe inspiring. Then the pilot backed the engines down a little, turned to face the wind on the runway, cranked up the almost 8000 horses and let the brakes go - and we shot down the runway like a dragster on a strip. We were airborne in about 40 seconds, testament to this aircraft's power - and the fact we had a light fuel load and no (real) bomb load. Again, my imagination lets me think about what it was like to do this knowing you would be gone for hours over enemy territory, in a huge target full of gasoline and bombs, freezing at 25,000+ feet... And wondering if you will even be able to get the heavy plane off the runway to get there...

As soon as our wheels left the runway - and I mean that instant - the flight engineer signalled us to take off our belts and have at it. We had the run of the ship. As we soared into the sky I immediately lit out for the front of the ship, squeezing through the bulkhead hatch and walking through the bombay, hanging on for dear life as the pilot wagged his wings and played with the power of the engines. The wind coming through the bay door cracks and all other areas of the ship made it very breezy, and the additional noise of the wind made the engines almost soundless...

 

This shot was taken as I scrambled through the bomb bay on my way forward. It very plainly shows how narrow the catwalk is, and you can easily see the daylight coming in around the slide up doors. The wind and noise were ferocious. I had to turn sideways and squeeze through each rack section.

After I crawled through the bomb bay and up to the rear of the flight deck, I was rewarded with this view of the number 2 engine outside the small window near the radio operator and navigator's stations. The thrum of the engine was impressive. The entire time we were barely 5 or 6  hundred feet up and rocking side to side as the pilot played with the controls and put on a simple show for anyone that happened to be out in their fields or yards.

Opposite the window in the above picture is this small table where the navigator would chart the bomber's course and keep tabs on their location. Typically in the large formations there were lead navigators for the group and the formation would follow - but if you got separated you better have a navigator that knows how to get you home and around the worst of the "flak alleys".

By the time I got to the cockpit a second passenger had joined me and we took each other's photos in behind the pilot and copilot. It was extremely hard to stand still and I had to lean against the bulkhead for stability.

I climbed up to the level of the cockpit and watched as the pilot played with the controls. He was having a wonderful time playing with the big bomber, rolling it one way or the other, chasing the B-17 off our wing, and generally just doing whatever he wanted. We flew out near the coast range and into the low green hills, and the air got noticeably cooler. I watched for a few minutes and asked a couple questions, and then dropped back down to crawl through the small opening below the flight deck and on towards the aircraft nose.

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