Whirlwind - Barrett Tillman [18]
Upon sighting an inbound fighter, a gunner placed his illuminated sight on the target, and began tracking. The rest of the process was automatic, with the mechanical fire-control computer compensating for ballistic drop, altitude, closing speed, and deflection angle. No other bomber possessed such a capability, providing a high volume of fast, accurate defensive fire, especially in multi-plane formations.
There were bound to be numerous problems for so large, complex, and advanced a design. The remote turrets posed serious challenges, and pressurization required some work. Among the new bomber’s unique features was a forty-foot pressurized tunnel connecting the front and rear of the airframe, affording fliers a shirtsleeve environment. But if an observation blister blew out, which could happen at altitude, the gunner at that position would be sucked into space, probably minus a parachute.
The B-29’s main problem was the four Wright Cyclone engines. They were huge, each with eighteen cylinders producing 2,200 horsepower. (The B-17’s nine-cylinder engines were rated at 1,200 horsepower.) But the twin-bank configuration caused serious cooling problems, leading to in-flight fires in the rear row of cylinders. Since several engine components were made of virulently flammable magnesium, many fires became uncontrollable. The onboard extinguisher system proved inadequate, unable to cope with 87 percent of reported fires.
Boeing delivered the first three XB-29s in 1942, and flight-testing proceeded under the company’s extremely capable chief pilot, Edmund T. Allen. Eddie Allen knew his way around big airplanes, having flown the XB-15 and other bombers and large transports. B-29 engine failures became almost routine, and he handled each incident with professional aplomb. On December 30, 1942, he landed the second “X job” with one engine streaming flames that could only be extinguished by the ground crew. The next day another Cyclone choked at 20,000 feet.
Reportedly Allen expressed doubts that so complex a machine as the B-29 could be produced in useful numbers, but he remained committed to the project. On February 17, 1943, he dealt with a serious fuel leak and landed safely.
The next day he died with his crew.
Flying the second prototype again, Allen radioed that he had a serious engine fire spreading to the main wing spar. The flames ate voraciously into the left wing as the bomber descended toward home. Not even Allen’s fabled skills could retrieve the situation. The wing burned through, sending the XB-29 crashing into a Seattle meatpacking plant, killing all eleven aboard the plane and nineteen on the ground.
The setback was serious but not enough to cancel the program. The Army proceeded with thirteen “service test” aircraft designated YB-29s, the first flying four months after Allen’s crash. They provided Boeing and the Army with enough Superfortresses to continue evaluation, to test improvements, and generally tweak the design before it entered production.
Meanwhile, the AAF struggled to build the immense infrastructure to maintain and deploy its B-29 fleet. A total force of twenty bomb groups was envisioned, each with 112 aircraft organized in four squadrons. Early plans to use the Superfortresses against Germany were scrapped when B-17s and B-24s were able to operate from Britain and Italy.
Two officers bearing critical influence upon the B-29 program were the project director, Brigadier General Kenneth B. Wolfe, and a surprisingly junior flier, twenty-nine-year-old Lieutenant Colonel Paul Tibbets. Wolfe possessed an extensive engineering background dating from 1920, and had worked with industry to bring new aircraft into service. In June 1943 he formed the first B-29 wing at Salina, Kansas, largely on the strength of his extensive knowledge of the aircraft and the program. Much later, General Curtis LeMay summarized the rationale for tossing the Superfortress project into Ken Wolfe’s hands, citing his “splendid