Story and photos by Carol Smith Ferlo
EAA AirVenture Oshkosh 2015
The wheels on my dad’s walker grinded to a halt; his stooped form brought to attention as he took in the view before him. It has been more than 50 years since my dad last saw a B-29. While he liked the idea of this huge air show, he didn’t like dealing with crowds or having to “wait” for anything.
Patience never was one of his virtues.
He did, however, really love the EAA Aviation Museum, and over the years brought many visiting family members and friends to Oshkosh. West Bend, Wisconsin, was his home since the ‘60s.
Dad was now 91, and I had convinced him to attend the air show with me that year. Dad knew that the restored B-29 FIFI would be there.
Before I continue, the following is information that I believe my dad would want you to know. It’s a little “techy,” so please bear with.
The B-29 was “his plane” during World War II. At this time, FIFI was the sole flying B-29 from the almost 4,000 that were manufactured. About 450 were shot down or lost in combat, and the remainder were scrapped for metal and parts. What made this bomber unique was that it had two pressurized cabins, connected by a long tunnel which contained the bomb bays. The General Electric Central Fire Control system on the B-29 directed four remotely controlled turrets armed with two .50 Browning M2 machine guns each. All weapons were aimed optically, with targeting computed by analog electrical instrumentation. There were five interconnected sighting stations located in the nose and tail positions and three Plexiglas blisters in the central fuselage. Five GE analog computers (one dedicated to each sight) increased the weapons’ accuracy by compensating for factors such as airspeed, lead, gravity, temperature, and humidity. The computers also allowed a single gunner to operate two or more turrets (including tail guns) simultaneously. The gunner in the upper position acted as fire control officer, also known as central fire control gunner, managing the distribution of turrets among the other gunners during combat. This position was assigned to my father, Sergeant Gunner Ralph E. Smith.
In wartime, the B-29 was capable of flight at altitudes up to 31,850 feet and speeds of up to 350 mph. This was its best defense because Japanese fighters could barely reach that altitude, and few could catch the B-29 even if they did attain that altitude. In summer of 1945 the decision was made to have the B-29 drop two atomic bombs over targeted cities on Japan’s mainland. At that time Japan, though hopelessly losing the war, did not believe in surrender and was preparing for a massive invasion by the United States and its allies. They were arming their citizens (by this time, mostly the elderly, women, and children) and training them to defend at all costs. This would have amounted to an enormous loss of life for not only the Japanese citizens, but for all of the army, air, and naval forces as well. As horrible as this decision seemed, it was the only solution for a quick ending to this prolonged conflict. The B-29 Enola Gay flown by Col. Paul Tibbets (whose signature is on the order), dropped the first bomb called Little Boy on Hiroshima on August 6, 1945. Bockscar, flown by Maj. Charles W. Sweeney, dropped the second bomb called Fat Man on Nagasaki three days later, bringing the Japanese Empire to surrender and ending the war.
Pilots and their bomb crews formed very strong attachments with “their” airplanes. During the first several years of the war, crews would hire one of their own artists to paint a design of their choosing onto the nose portion of their bomber. There was a variety of catchy slogans, accompanied by a figure — sometimes cartoonish, sometimes a scantily clad “bombshell.” A couple of examples are Ponderous Peg, Shady Lady, and Devil’s Darlin. You get the idea. There was also some fun, cartoon styles like Doc, which has since been fully restored and is now flying along with FIFI. In April 1945 an order came down to have all nose art involving women removed from the airplanes. My dad always attributed this change to “some general’s wife.”
Ralph Edward Smith was born on December 1, 1923, and raised in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. He had wonderful parents who cherished and doted on their only child. After graduating from Washington High School in 1942, he enrolled at Milwaukee State Teachers College (now UW Milwaukee). WWII was well under way with the U.S. having entered the conflict the day after the attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, and there was no end in sight. The day came (1943) when Ralph received his “invitation” to serve his country. He took this invite, along with his “excuse slip” (apparently, he had a pre-approved pass to defer his enlistment until after graduation from college) to the dean’s office and reminded him that he was to be omitted from this conflict until after his graduation. The dean asked to see his papers then proceeded to tear them into pieces, and …. into the trash can. Ralph chose to become an official member of the U.S. Army Air Forces (USAAF).
Ralph really wanted to become a fighter pilot, but the need had decreased by this time as the allies were winning the fight in the sky. He started his basic pilot training in Wichita Falls, Texas. From there he trained at Canyon, Texas. He attended ground school for pilots at Santa Ana, California, where he studied math, navigation, and code for pilots. Next it was on to Tulare, California, for flying school where he flew open-cockpit biplanes. His basic flight training was at Taft, California, where he flew BT-13s, which were aluminum single-wing airplanes with closed cockpits and fixed landing gear. He took his first solo flight there from Taft to Sacramento and back. At Luke Field in Phoenix, Arizona, he attended advanced pilot school where he “washed out.” Ralph would want you to know that while he technically washed out of flight training school, it wasn’t because he wasn’t qualified. His instructor made a point of telling him that due to the success of the war effort at that time, he was ordered to cut his trainees by 75 percent. Part of that decision was based on height and weight. Ralph was only about 5 feet 7 inches and had a slight build. Though he was deeply disappointed to not be allowed to continue his dream, it made him feel better about the reason why. Knowing about Ralph’s disappointment, his instructor told him about a newer bomber, the B-29 Superfortress, that he thought Ralph would find interesting. He was indeed very excited to become a part of the B-29 gunner crew.
At Lowry Field, Colorado, he trained to be a B-29 gunner, then at Fort Myers, Florida, he trained in aerial gunnery. He had to shoot at a banner being trailed in the sky by an airplane. Each gunner had bullets with different colored paint so they could tell who was able to hit the target. The gunners were told that there would be “hell to pay” if they hit and disconnected the towrope.
Christmas 1944, Ralph went to Lincoln Air Base in Omaha, Nebraska, to become part of a crew and from there the crew went to Alamogordo, New Mexico, where they trained together on B-29 bombers. Once during training, they had engine trouble while over California and had to land there. They were flown back to their base in an airplane belonging to a general and learned what officer luxury was when they sat in seats with padded cushions. While in New Mexico, they made a trip to Mexico and purchased leather shoes — which subsequently turned green and molded in the South Pacific.
Ralph thought he would be sent to China, so he purchased a map and assigned numbers to the various provinces so that he could write to his parents and tell them “in code” where he was. However, he was instead sent to the Japanese island of Saipan. He and his crew thought the brand-new B-29 they flew to Saipan was going to be their airplane, so they polished it up and gave it the greatest care. They were disappointed when it was replaced with a much-used bomber. In Saipan the bomb squadron lived in a 10-man tent, raised two feet above the ground because of flooding. The men showered using salty sea water. The area was sprayed with DDT to kill mosquitoes, but their tent swarmed with chameleons.
As earlier stated, he was the CFC for his bomber. Ralph spent the remainder of his active duty on the B-29 in the Pacific, on the island of Saipan. His B-29 (48 Z) flew in the very last conventional bombing mission of the war, the Japanese city of Toyama, on August 1-2, 1945. It was a night mission, and because of prevailing, strong, and changing winds, all their bombs had to be released at 10,000 feet rather than the usual 30,000 feet or they would be blown off target. On their first pass over the city the bomb doors refused to release, so they had to circle around again while the crew repaired the doors. When the bombs fell, the squadron’s combined efforts destroyed 96 percent of the city. Years later, Ralph learned from a magazine article that there was an American POW camp based in Toyama, and this camp was the only part of the city that was not destroyed. No Americans were even injured! At some point during his active service, he “visited” Iwo Jima, just months after the Marines had gained possession of the island. He thanked the Marines for their hard-won battles, won at tremendous cost.
Ralph was lucky enough to come home on one of the last “sunset” flights in a B-29. Some of his companions were sent home by ship and took months to get home. He eventually ended up on Tinian, living in a Quonset hut. His first assignment after the war was working airport security. He and a buddy had to drive a jeep around the perimeter. Ralph considered this “make work” because there was nothing else for them to do. Ralph did not have a driver’s license; he had never driven any vehicle! He was the assigned driver because he was the ranking NCO. He taught himself how to drive and to manage the clutch.
Ralph has often said that being a part of this conflict was his greatest accomplishment. As an only child he really enjoyed the teamwork and general camaraderie of his gunner crew and stayed in touch with each of them, eventually outliving them all. He reenlisted, staying in the military until retirement. During the Korean War he was stationed at March Air Force base in Riverside, California. He was selected to work in the graphic arts department and designed a new decal for the Air Force.
The details of Ralph’s active service are 20th Air Force, 73rd Bomb Wing (CFC), 500th Bomb Group (B-29s), 883rd Bomb Squadron (each having 15 bombers), Bomber 48 Z.
Back to AirVenture 2015
For weeks I had been in contact with a volunteer from EAA regarding our visit — transportation around the grounds for my dad, and him seeing the B-29 FIFI, which was the sole purpose of our visit. I had explained about my dad’s service in WWII and his age factor. Everything was all set and ready to go. We arrived at the EAA grounds early and were picked up by a golf cart, speeding off to the area where the bombers were displayed. As we looked around, it became apparent that FIFI was nowhere in sight. The volunteer made a phone call and then informed us that FIFI was not here after all but was based at the Appleton airport on this day because it was giving flights from there. We took a few minutes to process this turn of events and decided that we would now make the drive to Appleton. As we were talking this over, my dad turned away, seemingly distracted, and cocked his head to the sky. A little dark spot grew larger, coming ever closer, and now, louder. It was FIFI! My dad recognized the distinctive sound of those B-29 engines and heard it long before the volunteer and I did. FIFI circled the field and landed, pulling up to her designated spot. We made our way over to the bomber. Dad picked up his pace (even with using the walker) but stopped a short distance away from the airplane, just taking it in.
I really wonder what thoughts and memories were going through his mind. As he edged closer, the crowd parted as they became aware of my dad with his green military jacket and cap, bearing insignia of his service and of his B-29. We probably stayed for about an hour as the pilots and crew had questions for him. Everyone else just pulled up to listen. Dad, naturally, was in his element! He may have been 91 years old, but he had a razor-sharp memory and could recall details like it was yesterday! He also handed out copies (he just happened to have along) of the order for the atomic bombings. In the 1950s a lot of information and photos became declassified, and my dad (stationed at Castle Rock Air Base in California) scooped up a large quantity. People were very impressed with that document. It dawned on me that it was becoming rare to see a veteran from WWII. The pilot also welcomed me to climb up into the belly of that airplane. I sat in the pilot’s seat, in my dad’s seat (up in the bubble), and climbed through the tunnel to the rear cabin. I decided that someday I wanted to be a part of a B-29 flight. My dad was ready to head home after seeing FIFI, but I convinced him to stay for the air show. We settled in under some shade and enjoyed it to the end, especially the roar of the F-15s!
My dad did go on an Honor Flight with his granddaughter (my daughter), Lindsey. It was 2010, the year that a documentary was being made about the flight, and they make an appearance in that film. We watched it at Miller Park in Milwaukee. Lindsey said that her grandpa showed his favorite photo of his wife, Miriam (Newport Beach, California, 1950) “all day to everyone!”
Several years ago, my daughter Lindsey and I booked a flight for the B-29 Doc during AirVenture. A couple of nights before our flight I got an email that said Doc was temporarily grounded due to mechanical concerns at the last air show and would not be giving flights until further notice. We never did get that flight accomplished, but I am thinking that at EAA AirVenture 2025, the 80th anniversary of the end of WWII, would be a good year to do the flight. Surprisingly, the cost of riding a B-29 has not gone up greatly since we last booked.
A few months ago, my grandson (Lindsey’s son) Beckett (age 10) surprised me with a model he made of a B-29. It was perfect and an exact replica of a model we had as children when my dad was stationed in Japan. This year I plan to take Beckett on the B-29 Doc flight experience. We are beyond excited to be doing this together!
I am so thankful that my dad and I took advantage of attending EAA AirVenture in 2015, as Dad passed in July 2016 (during the same time as AirVenture).
