bomb on Nagasaki on Aug. 9, 1945. Maj. Charles
Sweeny is standing in the dark jacket. SSgt. Raymond
Gallagher is in the front row, second from the right.
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.
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All Comments
70,000 people. It's so easy to say, when you say it fast.
I can only pray that no-one ever does anything of the kind again.
Thank goodness the USA developed such weapons systems to put an end to the Japanese atrocities throughout China and the Pacific. Such a plane deserves preservation (lest we forget).
Based on many casualty projections at the time tens of thousands American lives and probably more than a million Japanese lives were saved by dropping "the bomb." War is hell whether you catch a bullet or shrapnel; experience a fire bombing or getting incinerated by splitting atoms.
R. J. Rummel, a professor of political science at the University of Hawaii, states that between 1937 and 1945, the Japanese military murdered from nearly 3,000,000 to over 10,000,000 people, most likely 6,000,000 Chinese, Indonesians, Koreans, Filipinos, and Indochinese, among others, including Western prisoners of war.
Japanese war crimes murdered more innocent victims than all the atom bombs combined.
Wow.
Should I take it, from the reaction to my comment, that people hope to see another 70,000 people killed in a single act, some day?
How depressing.
It's depressing when one person dies. Your comment ignores the consequences of war.
My dad was on a submarine & destroyer tender in WWII Pacific theater. Every day spent out on the ocean, especially on a defenseless tender, increased his chances of never coming home. If he was a marine or in the army a land invasion of Japan could have exceeded 70,000 casualties by a factor of 10!
Dropping the two “A” bombs, which forced the Japanese into surrendering, saved lives. Start to finish, God bless everyone involved with the Manhattan project!
Avoiding the "A Bomb good/bad" endless debate, there is an awkward sentence about B-17 and B-24s generally not having an individual name or nose art applied.
I really can't recall ever having seen a photo of a combat veteran WW II US Army plane not having been given a name.
A google search of the phrase "B-17 and B-24 WITHOUT nose art" will result in only articles and images of them with nose art.
The last two pages of my 1943 edition " Target Germany" ( an Army Air Force backed book ) has thirty photos of B-17 nose art including the Memphis Bell. The quality of the photos that accompany the text are poor, but three out of four show art.
A personal great day for me was being on hand when the first B-2 arrived at Whiteman AFB. The C.A.F. had sent FIFI and a B-52 came up from Louisiana, the major parts of US strategic air power combat history and future live and in one spot.
Saw a discussion about nose ar over on the Army Air Force forum. Somebody there surmised probably 65% of the WWII bombers in Europe had nose art. Someone with the 303rdBG, 360BS even said the Squadron Commander would allow temporary art only for photo shoots requested by crews. The art had to be removed following the session. Consequently, he said they had a lot of "no name" aircraft in their squadron.
"Should I take it, from the reaction to my comment, that people hope to see another 70,000 people killed in a single act, some day?"
No,
You need to realize that it ALL could have been avoided if Japan surrendered after Midway, Tarawa, Guam, Iwo Jima, the Philippines, or even the the first Atomic Bomb. No, Japan did not even surrender after the 2nd Atomic Bomb! It took 6 more days until a surrender was offered.
It's almost perverse to not blame Japan for the deaths of their own people in WWII.
DigDug
Check out this site, http://www.303rdbg.com/ground-nose.html
a collection of photos of 303 B.G. nose art.
Not sure how successful that 360 B.S. Commander was as there is a good representation of that squadron included.
At best, he would only have control over twelve aircraft out of a forty eight plane group.
I disagree with the author's comment, "After all, attaching a name to a killing machine is merely an attempt to humanize the brutality of war, isn't it?"
My Dad was a B-29 pilot on Tinian. His crew named their airplane to give a personality to the craft upon which their lives depended. There was no "brutality of war" issue here. A crew of 11 men, climbing aboard a machine that was truly still in development, to fly 1500 miles across open ocean, defeat enemy fighters, avoid flak and make a 1500 mile trip home with minimum fuel needed all the help they could get. These crews gave their aircraft names to make the plane a member of the crew; to encourage the aircraft into the air with an overgrossed load of bombs and fuel, to coax the unpredictable R-3350 engines to hold together for the duration of flights that lasted over 15 hours, and to bring them home where ground crews would toil countless hours to prep the aircraft for the next mission.
The B-29 was a great plane that struggled with development problems due to hasty deployment demanded by the Pacific campaign. It's success was the result of a team of flight crew members and maintainers who developed tactics and maintenance SOPs on the go. Giving aircraft names made the plane a member of this team.
Neither my original comment, nor my follow-up, said anything about Japan's culpability in WWII, nor about the pros and cons of dropping the bombs that ended the war in the Pacific.
What I said was that I hoped no-one would ever do anything like it again.
That seems to me to be a wish everyone can share, irrespective of nationality, creed, color, or politics.
And yet that simple wish has been roundly rejected, not once, but twice, by the commenters here.
I have always been proud to be a part of the global community of pilots. I have never before been ashamed of fellow aviators. This has been a sad experience indeed.
Correction: not by the commenters, but by the "not good comment" votes.
I understand the commenters' point about the rationale behind the decision, of course.
"What I said was that I hoped no-one would ever do anything like it again."
As opposed to massive conventional bombing, firebombing, (or on land) several days of bayonet suicide charges? Point being that Japan could have avoided it all by surrendering. The USA showing massive OVERWHELMING force was the only way to convince Imperial Japan to end the war. Otherwise, their "code" would have been for everyone to fight to the death for the Emperor.
War was hell; the outcome was never certain. This aircraft was the pinnacle of the "will" to overcome world wide atrocities inflicted by Japan/Germany that killed tens of millions. That's why preserving this plane is good thing, if for nothing else than to remind ourselves to imaging what the world would be like today if the Allies had lost!
Very interesting that the author of this piece on the significance of the Bockscar mission completely omits any mention or photo reference to one of the most important decision-makers on board the aircraft. Both of the nuclear-equipped B-29s had Navy officers on board as "Weaponeers" tasked with arming and making the final decision as the weapon deployment. Flying Magazine's telling of this story desperately needs a revision to reflect Captain Ashworth's part in the final decision to drop over the the weather-obscured target that day.





