One of the many warplanes that shot through the sky during WWII is the only one to still evoke today a legendary reputation: Flak-Bait, a Martin B-26 Marauder. This bomber, made in Glenn L. Martin’s Baltimore factory in April 1943, was not just war machinery. It became a badge of the ‘never say die’ spirit. Flak-Bait completed 200-plus combat flights, more than any other US bomber over Europe. Besides, it was absolutely amazing that it always returned.
This old gal went by the name of Lt. James J. Farrell of the 449th Bombardment Squadron, 322nd Bomb Group. There was a funny side to the origin of its unusual name, and it was a resulting combination of the bleak reality and personal touch that characterized it. Soon enough, the crew learned what “Flak” meant, that is, the German anti-aircraft guns, while “Bait” came from Farrell’s brother’s dog, which was called “Flea Bait.” The unfamiliarity of the name getting stuck together was perfectly appropriate – more than that, they were our uncle’s aptly fitting words.
From the time Flak-Bait operated in August 1943 to the last few months of the war in 1945, the bomber was under heavy fire in the worst of the skies in Europe. It was one of the planes that participated in D-Day, survived the Battle of the Bulge, and bombed the V-weapon launch sites. The 200th kind of operation was performed by it in April 1945 when it went on a raid over Magdeburg – an event that both survival and history were being made, labelled as advanced.
The statistics look almost unbelievable. The fuselage of the aircraft was peppered with over 1000 bullet holes, shrapnel wounds, and cannon fire. There were multiple failures in the engines, fuel lines were cut, and systems went off, but the plane was still able to struggle back every time. What’s also quite extraordinary is that none of the fatalities of the crew occurred while they were flying on it. Only one man was wounded. In the time when bomber crews’ survival chances were very low, this was enough to make Flak-Bait different from the rest.
Flak-Bait would have been an even more astonishing aircraft had it not been for the way in which it was retained. When the Air and Space Museum of the Smithsonian Institute took over Flak-Bait after the war, curators didn’t try to make an old-fashioned restoration; they decided to keep it the way it was at the end of the war—injured, patched, and worn.
Every dent and rivet resonates a story. The control surfaces with the torn fabric, the repair with the quick and rough patch, and even the piece of the German flak that is still underneath the radio operator’s seat and is uncontrollably sharp remain unaltered. This is not simply a bomber; it is metal that has historical memory.
The care for Flak-Bait has been slow and challenging. Persons like Pat Robinson, Lauren Horelick, Chris Moore, and Malcolm Collum, who are experts, have treated it less as a machine and more as an exquisite piece of art. They go down to the molecular level when looking at the various layers of paint in order to prevent the fading of colour.
The fabrics are never completely replaced, even if they are quite old; a minimum of reinforcement with the lightest touch is the usual way of production. The plane is no longer moved or dismantled as it used to, but with each going through the step of this ritual, they are carefully ensuring the authenticity of the aircraft is maintained rather than changing its character.
The history of Flak-Bait is not simply that which is inscribed in the steel. Over 350 men who were physically present on board are the ones who wrote the history there by virtue of the signatures, names, and doodles they have scribbled all over the fuselage. Those who flew it, gunners, people who looked after the plane, even some civilians who had a chance to visit the plane, wrote their names or left their marks in pencil or paint. Nowadays, curators are getting busy in recording these writings. Thanks to them, the link between the aircraft and the people, who were the closest ones, is still there.
Flak-Bait still finds a place in the world of relics, not only as one but as a living time capsule. The story of the crews that put their trust in it, the engineers who gave it life, along with the numerous missions it undertook, is what this airplane tells us. However, unlike a lot of bombers that have been scrapped, Flak-Bait remains here. It is far from being in mint condition, but still, it radiates pride. Not only does it speak of the far-reaching American engineering feats, but it is also a testimony of the courage and sacrifice of the men who dealt with the situation of the least possible odds.
Through its ravaged body, the past is still present. Flak-Bait is not only a reminder of survival. It also reminds us of bravery, endurance, and the heavy toll of war.