Historic WWII plane going down?

GEORGETOWN, Texas (KXAN) - It couldn't have gone better.

The "Devil Dog" sat on a tarmac in air show heaven. It was July of this year and in Oshkosh, Wisconsin, an estimated 300,000 people had turned out for the week-long run of the biggest annual historic air show in the country. No one was more delighted than Beth Jenkins. The president of the Georgetown, Texas-based Devil Dog Squadron of the Commemorative Air Force, Jenkins had been intimately involved in the almost 2-year-long overhaul of one of the most celebrated B-25 bombers from World War II.

The war

The high altitude bombers played an important role during the war, punishing ground targets with tons of explosive power, directed by the bombardier who sat in a transparent cage in the nose. A gun turret  topside provided protection from enemy fighters.

"Many people may know it as the Doolittle plane," said Eric Poteet, a Round Rock, Texas police officer who serves alongside Jenkins in the squadron.

In April 1942, Lieutenant Colonel James "Jimmy" Doolittle led a group of B-25s on the first mission of the war to attack the Japanese homeland.

"The first time that we struck back at Japan involved a group of B-25s that took off from an aircraft carrier, something it was not designed to do," said Poteet. "That's kind of the story of the aircraft;  it was adapted for whatever role was needed."

When U.S. marines operating in the South Pacific Ocean got their hands on a fleet of B-25s, they, too, quickly figured out some things were going to have to change.

"What they found out is you can't drop bombs from 8,000 feet on a moving ship," said Jenkins. "So they learned to come down 20 feet off the waters straight at the ship and they'd pull up right before the ship and skip the bombs into the ship."

That meant getting shot at.

"This didn't occur far up in the air," Poteet said. "This was down and dirty, you know, at palm-tree-top level and this was a very special group of aviators that were able to accomplish this and they used a  very special piece of equipment and that's what the Devil Dog is. It's adaptation."

The marines scrapped the bombardier cage and extended the fuselage around the nose of the plane. That nose now protected a bank of machine guns for shooting back at the enemy. No longer having to concentrate on fighter attacks at altitude, the Marines also replaced the top gun turret with a smaller clear dome so they could look up and navigate by the stars during their trademark night missions.

"The plane was bristling with machine guns that were designed specifically for low level attacks on Japanese shipping," said Poteet. "That's a very unique and dangerous kind of warfare, as if warfare isn't  dangerous enough. This is a very special group of aviators that were able to accomplish this and they used a very special piece of equipment. The Marines in the South Pacific took this aircraft and adapted it to their uses for nothing but harassing Japanese shipping.  It was probably one of the most important pieces of technology that helped us win the Pacific war."

Resurrection

In the decades after the war, the surviving B-25s began to disappear.  In 1978, though, the Devil Dog was discovered sitting on a grass strip near Rockdale, Texas.  A decade long restoration effort was followed by another two-year overhaul just before the squadron took off for the Oshkosh Air Show.

The show

The Devil Dog participated in every event in Oshkosh, including the jaw-dropping "fire line."  As the bomber roared overhead, pyrotechnics on the ground created the image of a full-blown attack. At the static display, thousands of admirers walked around the plane, touching it and marveling at its history.

"People from World War II hobble up to the airplane in tears and tell us their stories," said Jenkins.

The trip home

Transported by pride in their work and appreciation for the history it represents, the squadron set its eyes on home. Jenkins, besides serving as squadron president, is also the only female B-25 rated pilot for the Commemorative Air Force. So when the Devil Dog went wheels up, she was at the controls.

Only minutes into the flight, her brow tightened and a frown grabbed her jaw. She knew something was wrong. The plane was pulling to the left and the engine on the left wing was short on power. Jenkins and the crew turned back and put the plane on the ground in Oshkosh again.

"It was devastating," said Jenkins.

A bearing had gone out and sprayed metal through the massive engine.  Mechanics removed it from the wing and shipped it back to the Georgetown Airport where it sits forlornly in a hangar at Pilot's Choice Aviation, waiting for the squadron to complete a $75,000 fund drive to pay for repairs. The Devil Dog remains on the ground, exposed to the elements in Oshkosh.

The road to the sky

So far, the drive has pulled in more than half of the goal.  The president of the Commemorative Air Force, however, won't let the process drag out.  Unless the squadron can come up with the full amount in the next seven weeks, the plane will go to a better funded group in Georgia.  So the squadron is in attack mode.  A fundraiser at the Georgetown Community Center in San Gabriel Park Nov. 13 will feature a decidedly 21st Century beer, wine and food tasting, along with a swing band playing 1940s era music.

"This airplane represents the freedom and liberty that we have right now," said Poteet. "You know, it is a unique treasure and we should maintain that here in our back yard. There's absolutely no reason to not succeed in this mission.  We all understand that there's donation fatigue, you know. There are a number of incidents that occur every year that beg people's generosity, but this is something unique; it's something special and there are so many people that are dedicated and doing everything they possibly can to preserve it.  We just have to make people aware that it's here and give them a stake in it. They own it; this is part of our history; it is a local treasure and we are determined to keep it here."

Jenkins stands in the hangar. As her eyes drift to the dead engine, her mind drifts to the crews who went to hell and back in the converted B-25s almost seven decades ago.

"Most of these boys were 18-, 19-, 20-years old and they were out there fighting a war for our freedoms," she said. "And, you know, they're now in their 80s and they're dying daily and we're going to lose this history. And these airplanes are representing that history that we have to keep alive."