The Collings Foundation was set up by Robert Collings in 1979 to support and organise “living history” events, which gave members of the American public a chance to experience and participate in a variety of events and activities which gave them some idea of what life was like in the past. From fairly humble beginnings, the foundation now operates a large and diverse collection of aircraft from early biplanes through WWII bombers to Vietnam War era jet fighters. Most of these aircraft are available for the public to fly in, in exchange for a donation to cover costs and support their continued operation.
Recognising that the best way to get their historical message across to as many people as possible was to take their aircraft on tour throughout the US, in 1989 the Foundation launched the “Wings of Freedom Tour”, which has now visited over 2400 airports across the US. Annually it is thought that some 3-4 million people see the aircraft – an incredible number and one which fully justifies the effort that the Foundation goes to in getting the aircraft out throughout the nation.
My first encounter with the Wings of Freedom Tour came in May last year in Long Beach, California. The report which I wrote for GAR can be found here – I’ll try not to repeat myself too much in this report, so if you are interested in learning more about the history of the Collings Foundation and its aircraft, please have a look.
This year’s tour began on 21 Jan in Fort Lauderdale, Florida and features the usual combination of the B-17 Flying Fortress “Nine-Oh-Nine”, B-24 Liberator “Witchcraft” and TP-51C Mustang “Betty Jane”. When not on tour, the aircraft are based in New Smyrna FL, so Fort Lauderdale is an appropriate place to begin the Foundation’s annual jaunt around the US.
I caught up with the tour at Tamiami Kendall Executive Airport, in the affluent southern suburbs of Miami. This airfield is primarily home to business jets and GA, so the sight of two WWII era machines on the ramp was slightly incongruous, although an A-26 Invader is preserved at the centre of the airfield as a memorial to pilots lost during the infamous “Bay of Pigs” invasion of Cuba.
The morning of my visit brought persistent rain and overcast skies – not entirely what one expects from the “sunshine state”. The upside of the rain (there has to be an upside!) was the puddles of water on the ramp that made for some superb reflections and some unusual photo opportunities.
The primary purpose of the Wings of Freedom Tour is to allow members of the public to fly in the aircraft and experience something of what life was like for fighter and bomber crews during WWII. In doing this, the Foundation gives today’s generation a small taste of the hardships and sacrifices made by previous generations in defence of their nation and its principles. When an opportunity to fly in one of these classic aircraft arose, it was too good for me to pass up...
To my delight, the aircraft which I was able to fly in was Witchcraft, the Foundation’s spectacular B-24. This meant so much to me for a variety of reasons, chief amongst them was the fact that for a time I volunteered at the City of Norwich Aviation Museum at Norwich Airport, the former RAF Horsham St Faith. During WWII, the airfield was home to the 458th Bomb Group of the USAAF, equipped with the B-24, so I have always felt a strong affinity for the aircraft.
The other main reason for my affinity with this particular Liberator is that despite its USAAF colour scheme, this is an aircraft which saw operational service with the RAF in the Far East. Allocated the serial KH191, in the hands of 8(Special Duties) Squadron the aircraft flew many combat operations including dropping of supplies to agents behind enemy lines. After the war ended, the aircraft later saw service with the Indian Air Force – it is thanks to the post-war IAF use of the B-24 that Liberators still survive in museums throughout the world.
With the weather showing signs of clearing up, it was time to board the aircraft for our trip. Along with two other passengers I was seated in the engineer’s compartment behind the pilots – there are few frills or concessions to passenger comfort on the B-24, those coming along for the ride strap in on the floor or on some of the small seats available.
With all passengers secured, it was time to start the engines. Whilst I was determined to enjoy the experience as much as possible, I also forced myself to imagine being in the position of a young man in 1944, buried in the cramped fuselage of a heavily laden bomber and facing the prospect of a six hour mission over enemy territory. I felt some of the anxiety and trepidation that comes with anticipating such a difficult task as we sat with the engines running, waiting for their temperatures to increase sufficiently for taxying out. In wartime, the tension must have been virtually unbearable at this point, and would only have got greater as the aircraft began to taxi out to join the rest of the squadron for the mission.
Today of course, there is only our aircraft heading towards the runway, and we do so at a good pace, with flight engineer Jayson Owens assisting the pilots by climbing up through the fuselage escape hatch in order to keep a closer eye on any obstacles around the aircraft. Reaching the holding point, we have to wait briefly for a landing Cessna before being cleared to enter the runway and take off.
The noise levels increase dramatically as the throttles of the four Pratt and Whitney R-1830 engines are advanced. In the left hand seat, the captain concentrates on keeping the aircraft going straight down the runway while the co-pilot and flight engineer make small adjustments to the throttle controls to maintain the correct manifold pressure on each of the engines – these are powerful and rugged engines, but still require careful handling in order to avoid damage and prolong their life.
Despite being only weighed down by a light load today – no 5000 lb of armour piercing bombs and full tanks of fuel as there would have been in 1944 – the initial climb out is shallow, as the crew allow the aircraft to accelerate, but the aircraft does not seem sluggish or noticeably slow. Today we level off at a fairly low altitude, which gives us passengers a great view, albeit of a fairly grey and damp southern Florida.
Passengers flying with the Collings Foundation are encouraged to move around the aircraft during the flight, in order to experience what each of the crew positions was like. From my seat just behind the pilots, I make my way through the bomb bay to the rear of the aircraft, where the waist gunners had their positions. Today the bomb-bay is empty, except for a single replica bomb, but it is still a tight squeeze to get between the racks on the narrow walkway.
From the waist gunners’ position, the view through the open windows is superb, but there is also a huge feeling of vulnerability. The thin aluminium skin must have afforded the crew little real protection from flak splinters and cannon shells, but must have made some psychological difference at least. For the waist gunners with their .50 calibre Browning machine guns, there are no such illusions.
That feeling of vulnerability is stronger in the tail turret. Not only vulnerability but also loneliness and detachment from the rest of the crew. The turret itself is a horrible contraption – cramped, complicated and uncomfortable, not to mention exposed and flimsy looking. With the exception of the ball turret (sensibly not available to try out on the flight), this must have been the most unpleasant position on the aircraft. I’m struck once again by the horrors that those men who flew in these aircraft must have experienced.
After extracting myself from the tail turret – no easy feat as it certainly wasn’t designed for someone over 6’3” tall – I once again make my way forward, through the bomb bay to the forward fuselage. This time, I climb down into the lower part of the nose and crawl past the retracted nose wheel to reach the bombardier’s position. There is no nose wheel bay as such – the gear merely retracts into the forward fuselage.
The bombardier’s position is dominated by the legendary Norton bombsight, a unit so secret that it was apparently fitted with explosive charges to destroy it in the event of the aircraft being lost over enemy territory. The sight itself is a fiendishly complicated piece of equipment – the level of knowledge and skill required to operate it correctly must have been incredible. Above the bombsight is the forward turret where the aerodynamic noise is so intense that I can barely stand to put my head inside.
Our flight is now heading back towards Tamiami, and we make our way around the Homestead ARB airspace. In the distance I spot a couple of specks - F-16s in the circuit, today’s USAF sharing the sky with a relic of the USAAF past.
Approach and landing are uneventful, although the aircraft makes a deeply satisfying squeak as the wheels touchdown, the sort of noise that Hollywood would have us believe all aircraft make when they land! How welcome that sound must have been for a crew returning from a mission during wartime – wheels safely back on friendly tarmac. We taxi in and shut down and the aircraft is briefly silent before the passengers spontaneously break into applause, in recognition of the efforts of the flight crew.
The flight has been a truly wonderful experience from start to finish and one which has given me a renewed appreciation for the experiences of the generation that fought in aircraft such as the B-24. Often we have a tendency to appreciate and admire the aircraft without really considering the conditions that they inflicted on those who flew in them. Without a doubt, the B-24 was a reliable and trusted aircraft. Like the B-17, Lancaster or Halifax it was also one which could absorb a great deal of punishment and still get its crew home safely. The conditions for the crew however were still fairly primitive. Flying inside an aircraft like this now though gives you a much greater understanding of the vulnerability that the crew must have felt, especially in the face of flak and enemy fighters.
That is perhaps the real purpose of flights such as these, to remind us that much as we can admire the aircraft, the war was fought and won by young men who put their lives on the line day in day out for the good of their country and for each other. These men are now growing old and there will soon come a day when none of them will survive. Then all that will remain are the aircraft that they flew, to stand in tribute to them but also to remind future generations of quite how much we owe to those who served under such awful conditions.
My flight with the Collings Foundation was a wonderful experience which I will treasure for many years to come and one which gave me a small glimpse of how I would have felt had I been one of those called upon to serve in the dark days of WWII. The Wings of Freedom Tour will continue take place throughout the year and if you get the chance, I really can’t recommend flying with them highly enough.
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