Bemaling af B-17 (Flyvende Fæstning) under 2. verdenskrig samt oversigt over eskadriller og fly-navne/-serienr.

This directory is the product of years of statistical research by author Wallace Forman. It lists over 8,200 Boeing B-17s from the World War II era on which some sort of name identification was obtained, showing name and where available, group, squadron, and serial number. The photos in this book are black and white.

This volume is organized two ways: by the name given to the Consolidated B-24 aircraft in all their variations from World War II era and also by the unit with which the aircraft served. Approx. 9,000 entries, includes group, squadron, serial number, and vintage photos. The photos in this book are black and white.

During World War II, Allied casualty rates in the air were high. Of the roughly 125,000 who served as aircrew with Bomber Command, 59,423 were killed or missing and presumed killed—a fatality rate of 45.5%. With odds like that, it would be no surprise if there were as few atheists in cockpits as there were in foxholes; and indeed, many airmen faced their dangerous missions with beliefs and rituals ranging from the traditional to the outlandish. Military historian S. P. MacKenzie considers this phenomenon in Flying against Fate, a pioneering study of the important role that superstition played in combat flier morale among the Allies in World War II. Mining a wealth of documents as well as a trove of published and unpublished memoirs and diaries, MacKenzie examines the myriad forms combat fliers' superstitions assumed, from jinxes to premonitions. Most commonly, airmen carried amulets or talismans—lucky boots or a stuffed toy; a coin whose year numbers added up to thirteen; counterintuitively, a boomerang. Some performed rituals or avoided other acts, e.g., having a photo taken before a flight. Whatever seemed to work was worth sticking with, and a heightened risk often meant an upsurge in superstitious thought and behavior. MacKenzie delves into behavior analysis studies to help explain the psychology behind much of the behavior he documents—not slighting the large cohort of crew members and commanders who demurred. He also looks into the ways in which superstitious behavior was tolerated or even encouraged by those in command who saw it as a means of buttressing morale. The first in-depth exploration of just how varied and deeply felt superstitious beliefs were to tens of thousands of combat fliers, Flying against Fate expands our understanding of a major aspect of the psychology of war in the air and of World War II.

The future looked bright for many young men before the United States entered World War II on December 7th, 1941. Richard (Dick) Loveless from Washington, DC, was no exception. He had joined an apprenticeship program to follow in his dads’ footsteps to become an electrician. The prospects were good for Dick as he seemed to have what it took to succeed. Handsome and athletic, he had charmed his way into the heart of Mary Lu Farrell, a beautiful and equally talented girl from Northwest Washington, DC. Though neither really discussed it, marriage was undoubtedly on the horizon. Unfortunately, a war got in the way. He was forced to decide between being drafted into the Army or enlisting so he could choose what branch of the service he would serve. Dick enlisted. Regrettably, enlisting didn’t matter; he wound up in the coastal artillery. As luck would have it, an opportunity to join the Air Corps presented itself, and Dick took it. Thus, the adventure began for Dick. From boot camp and flight school to flying bombing missions over Germany for the 388th Bombardment Group, things never got easier. But it was only in his sixth mission over Stuttgart, Germany, that his strength, courage, and faith were put to the ultimate test. No training could prepare him for what lay ahead. Eighty years later, Dicks oldest son finally made good on a promise he made him. He vowed never to let his father’s remarkable story go untold, so “Avoiding Muddy Foxholes” is his story.

This wartime biography follows the life of a Second World War B-17 bombardier from the beginning of the war to its conclusion. Based on the 150 letters the airman, Fred Lull, wrote home to his mother, much of the horrors of what he experienced off the wing of his plane, aircraft destroyed, dismemberment by flak, go unshared. Fred did not want his mother to worry and could not tell her: 'I noticed some movement and a flash of light out of the corner of my right eye. The plane that had been flying right next to us had exploded and simply disappeared.' Using the bombardier's combat flight record, research data and interviews of former B-17 crew members, the story unfolds, breaking through the barrier of an unwillingness and inability to tell loved ones of the smell and taste of war.

When Howard Mansfield grew up, World War II was omnipresent and hidden. This was also true of his father’s time in the Air Force. Like most of his generation, it was a rule not to talk about what he’d experienced in war. “You’re not getting any war stories from me,” he’d say. Cleaning up the old family house the year before his father's death, Mansfield was surprised to find a short diary of the bombing missions he had flown. Some of the missions were harrowing. Mansfield began to fill in the details, and to be surprised again, this time by a history he thought he knew. I Will Tell No War Stories is about undoing the forgetting in a family and in a society that has hidden the horrors and cataclysm of a world at war. Some part of that forgetting was necessary for the veterans, otherwise how could they come home, how could they find peace? I Will Tell No War Stories is also about learning to live with history, a theme Mansfield explored in earlier books like In the Memory House, which The New York Times called “a wise and beautiful book” and The Same Ax,Twice, said by the Times to be “filled with insight and eloquence … a brilliant book.”