The Collings Foundation of Stow, Massachusetts, maintains a flying museum of military aircraft. Each year the foundation tours the continental United States. At each stop three or four World War II warbirds are on display and open for self-guided tours. Of particular interest to those of us with ties to the 492nd Bomb Group is the fact that Collings maintains the one of the only two flying B-24 Liberators in the world. Collings restored the airplane the late 1980s and has been flying it ever since. This is a very expensive endeavor costing thousands of dollars per flying hour. To cover the enormous costs, the foundation charges a fee to enter the aircraft viewing area. They also sell shirts, hats and other memorabilia. The top offering is a thirty minute "flight experience" in one of the warbirds.

In September, 2002 the foundation made a stop at Brainard Airport in Hartford, Connecticut. My wife Lynne, my son Mike, and I drove to the airport. When we got there Lynne surprised me; shocked would be a better word, by suggesting that Mike and I take a ride on the Liberator. We jumped at the chance and signed up before she could change her mind.

Prior to the flight we had a short briefing by the crew chief. Eight of us were going up. Mike and I struck up a conversation with a former B-24 waist gunner and his son. The veteran showed Mike a piece of shrapnel that had lodged in his forehead when an anti-aircraft shell exploded near his position.

Finally, our fight time came. We entered through the rear hatch of the aircraft, sat on the floor, and belted in. I brought my video camera to record this once in a lifetime opportunity. The airplane came to life with a cloud of blue smoke as each of the four engines started. The noise and vibration increased as we taxied out. At the end of the taxiway the pilots "ran up" the engines to perform last minute checks. The brakes squealed we turned to line up on the runway centerline. The tower cleared us for takeoff. Our pilot, Rob Collings, released the brakes and advanced the throttles to full power. We felt the acceleration of 4,800 horsepower. The rumbling of the wheels on the pavement ceased as we effortlessly lifted off. The landing gear was raised and Rob rang the "bail out" bell. In combat this bell was the signal for the crew to abandon a battle-damaged aircraft. For us, however, it was the OK to unbuckle and roam about the aircraft.

The rear of the aircraft was home to two waist gunners, a ball turret gunner and a tail gunner. As we stood at the waist gun positions we couldn't resist the urge to stick our hands into the 150 mile per hour rush of air. Mike and I took turns sitting in the tail turret and after a few minutes we started forward. After passing the retracted ball turret we entered the bomb bay. The space between the bomb racks is so tight that you have to walk sideways on the narrow catwalk. As you watch your footing on the catwalk, you see the ground passing below through the partially open bomb bay doors. The doors are open for safety as the incoming air keeps gasoline fumes from accumulating in the confined space. Exiting the bomb bay we entered the command deck. The pilot, co-pilot, radio operator, and engineer positions are here. The engineer also serves as the top turret gunner. This was my Dad's position. The only disappointment on the flight was at this point. Assorted gear was stored in the turret. This prevented us from sitting in the top turret and seeing the world from his vantage point.

After observing the pilots at work we moved forward again. To get to the compartment that was home to the nose turret gunner, bombardier, and navigator we had to get on our hands and knees and crawl under the pilots' position. The next obstacle is the retracted nose wheel. We passed around it to the right on a narrow plywood strip. Emerging from the nose wheel area we reached our goal. This space is very tight. It is surprising how the men assigned here could function while encumbered with bulky flight suits and oxygen masks.

Another Liberator veteran was up forward with us. He was trying to get into the nose turret but needed some help. It took a bit of effort but we got him in there. After he spent a few minutes in the turret we helped him out. In contrast, Mike grabbed the handholds and slid his legs into the turret with all the ease you would expect from a 22 year old. The old airman smiled and over the noise of the engines said, "That's the way I used to do it." I also took a turn in the nose turret and would say that although it was the best seat in the house for observation, as a private pilot I'd rather be in the co-pilot seat.

Too soon, the bell sounded for a second time. It was time to land. We took our positions and belted in. The flaps and landing gear came down as we entered the landing pattern. We crossed the runway threshold and Rob set us down gently. We taxied to the ramp and the engines were shut down. We were a little bit poorer monetarily but much richer in experience, an experience we wouldn't trade for anything.

In the years since, I have never missed a visit of the Collings Foundation. These days they come into Bradley International Airport in early October. It is a volunteer operation and I have helped out by collecting admissions, etc. This link will take you to the Collings Foundation home page. Check their tour schedule to see when they will be in your area. We highly recommend a visit. And a flight.