A 20-minute flight from Hooks Airport in Tomball to up around Lake Conroe in a B-17 is as exhilarating and harrowing as it sounds. And we weren’t even on a bombing run.

Last week myself and Tribune reporter Cheryl Smith were fortunate to receive an invitation from The Liberty Foundation, a non-profit group based out of Tulsa, Okla., to experience a short flight aboard one of the most famous aircrafts in military history.

Bob Hall, our able pilot, gave us a short history lesson on B-17s and the Belle in particular. Hall explained that the Liberty Belle is one of only nine flying B-17s in the United States, and like the other eight, was not a “combat veteran.”

This was our view from the seats of the Liberty Belle B-17. To see more photos from our trip aboard the Liberty Belle, visit tribunenews.com and click on “Photo Galleries.”

Photo by Cheryl Smith

Like many B-17s, the Liberty Belle was sold as scrap metal at the end of World War II. But she was saved from the smelter by an engine company and endured 20 years of being tested as a turbo prop engine. In 1968, it was donated to an aeronautical museum in Connecticut where it received more damage than many of its sisters who flew in the war.

A tornado threw another plane onto the Belle’s fuselage, breaking in half. It was stored until 1987 when the Belle was purchased by aviation enthusiast, Dan Brooks, whose father was a tail gunner on the original Liberty Belle.

Finally in 1992, the restoration of the Liberty Belle began. For 14 years, Brooks and the Liberty Foundation, which he founded, undertook the painfully laborious task of restoring the B-17. Finally, on Dec. 8, 2004, she took to the skies again.

Seven years later, as we sat forward of two high caliber machine guns and behind at least four ominous-looking re-created bombs in the bay, it was easy to question the Liberty Belle’s airworthiness. Hall, however, reassured us, explaining the term “Flying Fortress” was well-earned.

“This is a very survivable plane,” he said. “The B-17 is one of the great combat survivors in military history.”

As the prop engines sputtered to life, it was impossible not to put yourself (literally) into the seat of an airman likely no older than 25 years old in 1945.

The quarters were cramped, awkward and uncomfortable. Depending on the time of year, it would have been either stifling hot or bitterly cold inside the cabin. When the engines roared to full throttle, I understood why the crew was offering ear plugs and mentally slapped my forehead for turning them down.

As the Liberty Belle lurched forward, picked up speed and finally lifted off, I thought about the thousands and thousands of young men who took this same flight, but under much different circumstances.

Many, if not all, knew they were facing certain death. Their missions mostly involved destroying German supply chains and stores. For their efforts, they received heavy fire from the ground and air. Hundreds of B-17s were shot down before they even came close to dropping their explosive payload.

If an airman or pilot somehow survived 25 missions, the U.S. government felt he did his patriotic duty and sent him home.

If you were the gunner assigned to the rear of the plane, you felt much worse about your odds. According to Hall, the tail gunner was the “least survivable” spot on the plane, vulnerable to any number of anti-aircraft fire.

The noise made it too loud to talk: airman would certainly have to yell to convey orders, call for help or relay information. Conversation would have been impossible. The radio transmitters near our chairs, the only connection to the ground, looked unreliable at best and unusable at worst, even in pristine condition 70 years ago.

Enemy fire was only part of the danger facing a soldier aboard a B-17. The plane wasn’t exactly the most stable of aircrafts and just a quick “walk” toward the back of the plane near the guns left one green and queasy.

And if a young man aboard a B-17 were to lose his footing, a sharp metal corner or a low overhanging steel beam awaited their arrival. A ride on a Flying Fortress is not for the large, the tall or the claustrophobic.

Approximately 13,000 B-17s were produced during World War II. Of those, 4,735 were lost in combat. Each plane held 10 crew members. That equates to more than 50,000 lives lost on B-17s alone.

As we began to land I felt that tinge of relief that we were safely on the ground. I could only venture to imagine the amount of relief a young man felt with a similar plane riddled with bullet holes, shy a wing or an engine, or a friend. They were among the lucky ones. I am too for having such an experience.

For more information on the Liberty Belle and the Liberty Foundation, visit libertyfoundation.org.

Check out the photos of the flight in the photo gallery.

Photos by Cheryl Smith

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