Of all the aircraft that flew during World War II, some are still famous today. One of the best examples is Flak-Bait, a Martin B-26 Marauder. Its name says a lot about history. This bomber was constructed in Baltimore at the Glenn L. Martin plant in April 1943. It did more than fly; it kept returning, day after day. Flak-Bait flew over 200 missions and was the hardest American airplane used during the war. It’s also the only American bomber that made it back from so many flights over Europe.
Given early on to Lt. James J. Farrell of the 449th Bombardment Squadron, 322nd Bomb Group, the aircraft was christened in a personal, nearly whimsical fashion: “Flak” for the German anti-aircraft fire it would shortly come to know intimately, and “Bait” after the dog of Farrell’s brother, nicknamed “Flea Bait.” The nickname stuck—and as history attested, it was appropriate.
From August 1943 to the last months of the war in 1945, Flak-Bait navigated some of Europe’s most hazardous skies. It provided cover for key missions such as the D-Day invasion, the Battle of the Bulge, and precision attacks against V-weapon sites. Its 200th mission was flown in April 1945, over Magdeburg—a symbolic and historic milestone.
The numbers themselves are astounding. The bomber took over 1,000 hits of enemy fire—flak pieces, bullets, even a cannon shell. More than once, it limped home on one engine, sometimes with fire flickering from its metal. Hydraulics quit.
Electrical systems died. But the plane always delivered its crews safely home. Miraculously, no crewman was killed on Flak-Bait throughout its combat life; only one was ever wounded. That survival record, along with the proficiency of its crews, secured the aircraft a special position in aviation history.
What makes Flak-Bait even more impressive is that it has been preserved. Post-war, the Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum procured the bomber. Rather than restoring it to appear brand new, curators decided to keep it just as it was—patched, battered, and worn. Each dent, each repair, each bullet hole is still buried beneath its paint, a direct link to the past. Even control surfaces still wrapped in fabric retain the tears and damage of missions. To strip away those scars would have been to strip away the living history they symbolize.
Repair and conservation of ancient aircraft have become a cautious affair. Experts such as Pat Robinson, Lauren Horelick, Chris Moore, and Malcolm Collum have used methods more commonly associated with art restoration than flying. Their task is not to remake but stabilize—maintaining the machine’s integrity wherever possible. The original canvas is carefully reinforced, paint is analyzed on a molecular level to avoid flaking, and even a shattered shard of German flak found under the radio operator’s seat has been left intact as a chilling reminder of the hazards it sustained.
Flak-Bait’s relocation and reassembly have presented enormous logistical dilemmas. The aircraft has not been completely reassembled since 1946, and every piece demands meticulous care. Kristen Horning, one of those who assists in managing collections for the museum, has called the process measured and conservative, with a guiding principle: mess as little as possible. Every decision is made with authenticity in mind.
But Flak-Bait’s history isn’t solely one of metal and machinery—it’s one of human lives. Over 350 airmen took to the air inside it during its active years. Their names, those of ground crew, visitors, even kids, were scribbled across the fuselage. Some are inscribed in paint, others lightly penned across their surface. Now, curators itemize those signatures, not only saving the plane but the people it influenced.
Ultimately, preserving Flak-Bait is about something greater than saving a relic. It’s about the men who constructed it, flew it, and put their lives in it. As curator Jeremy Kinney once stated, the plane is a time capsule. Its history is not of a shiny finish but of the scars it still contains.
Amidst a period when so many planes were junked or lost following the war, Flak-Bait survives. It is the embodiment of strength, bravery, and sacrifice—the living testament to what was necessary to endure the skies over Europe.