Restorers Working On The Most Invincible Bomber Of WWII Are Uncovering Its Incredible Secrets

As the skies over Europe flash and burn with the aerial battles of World War II, one battered bomber makes its way doggedly back to base. With only one working engine and a bullet-riddled fuselage, Flak-Bait looks to be reaching the end of its life. But fate has decreed that this American plane will defy the odds to complete more than 200 missions. And, now, decades later, restorers are finally uncovering its secrets.

The infamous Flak-Bait

Today, Flak-Bait is famous for flying more sorties than any other active American bomber during World War II. But that wasn’t due to any lack of effort on the enemy’s behalf. Over the course of the plane’s two-year career, the Axis forces bombarded it with anti-aircraft munitions, leaving little more than a battle-scarred shell.

Sustained pressure

Flak-Bait, though, just kept on flying. Although it suffered damage that would have sent a lesser plane crashing to the ground, this indomitable bomber returned from battle time and time again – only to dive straight back in. Then the war was over, and the record-breaking craft was seemingly consigned to the past.

Coming back to life

Broken up into parts, Flak-Bait spent almost 70 years as a shadow of its former self. But in 2014 experts from America’s Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum, or SNASM, took on the task of bringing it back to life. And over the following weeks and months, an incredible story began to emerge.

Middle of the war

When Flak-Bait was first assembled in 1943, the United States was already deeply embroiled in World War II. Two years earlier, Japanese forces had launched a surprise attack on the American naval base at Pearl Harbor, leaving thousands dead and decimating the Pacific Fleet. With that, the Americans joined the conflict that was raging across the world.

Competing technologies

As American soldiers flocked to join the battlefields, aerospace factories across the U.S. were put to work manufacturing bombers. At the Martin Company in Baltimore, Maryland, that meant churning out B-26 Marauders — a type of plane designed to compete with superior German technology. The craft had gone from drawing board design to operational plane in under two years. This was a feat considered little short of miraculous by those in the know.

Against all odds

By the time Flak-Bait was put together, though, doubts about the B-26 had begun to circulate. Apparently, the planes were difficult to fly and often crashed, resulting in the nickname “The Widow-Maker”. How strange, then, that one of these problematic bombers would wind up being the most long-lived of them all.

Mixed reviews in the field

Although the B-26 received mixed reviews during the North African campaign, the U.S. Army still dispatched the bombers to northern Europe. And on May 25, 1943, a plane known as B-26B 41-31173 crossed the Atlantic. En route, it was christened Flak-Bait. This was a take on the nickname of pilot Lt. James J. Farrell’s pet dog, who had been affectionately dubbed “Flea Bait” by his brother.

An accurate nickname

Flak-Bait was soon put to work in the skies over France, launching aerial attacks on the German-occupied territory below. But before long, it became apparent that the bomber’s nickname was all too accurate. Everywhere it went, it seems, the plane came under heavy fire.

Direct hit

On one occasion, less than four months after Flak-Bait’s arrival in England, a German fighter plane scored a direct hit. As a shell tore through the front of the bomber, Farrell and another crew member were left wounded, their equipment rendered useless. Yet, somehow, they managed to nurse the wounded craft safely back to base.

Supportive action

As the war progressed, Flak-Bait continued to live up to its name. On almost every mission, the bomber was struck, adding a new set of punctures to its riddled fuselage. But every time, Farrell and his men made it back home in one piece. Eventually, they would fly the plane in support of the Normandy landings in June 1944.

Changing hands

After its initial crew headed back to the U.S., Flak-Bait passed into new hands, relocating to an airfield near Paris, France. There, the bomber continued to defy logic by returning home time and time again – despite being repeatedly strafed by enemy fire. Would this seemingly indestructible B-26 ever give up the ghost?

Beyond tough

As it turned out, Flak-Bait didn’t even need both engines working in order to make it back to base. On two separate occasions, it flew home on just a single prop – and at one point, even that was on fire. Other flights were safely completed despite devastating damage to the bomber’s hydraulics and electrical systems.

Flying target

“It was hit plenty of times, hit all the time,” Farrell recollected, speaking to an aeronautical magazine in 1978. “I guess it was hit more than any other plane in the group.” Later, Flak-Bait played a vital role in the infamous Battle of the Bulge, fighting off a German offensive in the Belgian city of Antwerp.

Faith in the flight

At a time when just 25 completed missions were considered a notable feat, Flak-Bait achieved more than 200. On its 180th outing, reports claim, the bomber received no fewer than 700 hits from anti-aircraft fire, or flak. Speaking to the Smithsonian, radio operator McDonald Darnell Jr. recalled, “Everybody was afraid of the damn thing, but she always got back for us. We always had faith in her.”

A handful of missions

Miraculously, Flak-Bait was still flying on September 2, 1945, when the Axis powers surrendered and World War II came to an end. Although exact estimates do vary, most believe that the bomber completed 206 missions over the course of the conflict, including six decoy flights. All in all, that amounted to more than 700 hours of combat.

Raining down explosives

During the course of the war, Flak-Bait flew almost 180,000 miles through the skies of Europe, raining down 375,000 pounds of explosives on enemy territory. In return, it received countless flak and shrapnel wounds. But despite its illustrious career, the bomber initially seemed destined for an anticlimactic future.

Disassembled parts

So what happened to Flak-Bait after the guns fell silent? On March 18, 1946, the bomber took its final flight, landing in Bavaria before being taken apart and shipped back to the U.S. Years later, in 1960, the disassembled aircraft was sent to a National Air Museum warehouse near Washington, D.C.

Almost forgotten

Despite Flak-Bait’s record-breaking military career, the bomber languished in obscurity for decades. Eventually, in 1976, the front section of the aircraft was put on display in Washington’s Museum on the National Mall. But even then, most of its fuselage remained boxed away in crates, slowly gathering dust.

New paint job

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only disservice done to this historic bomber. Back in the 1970s, it seems, museum staff took a rather different approach to restoration than experts do today. And in order to ready Flak-Bait’s nose for display, they freshened it up with a brand new layer of paint.

Shining reminder

As a result, the section of Flak-Bait that appeared in the museum looked very different from the battle-scarred bomber that had survived so many perilous missions. All the same, it remained on display for almost 40 years — a constant reminder of the bravery and determination of the American forces during World War II.

70 years later

Then, in August 2014 – more than 70 years after Flak-Bait was built – the bomber embarked on a new adventure. According to SNASM’s website, an opportunity had arisen to display the entire fuselage in the spacious Udvar-Hazy Center in Fairfax County, Virginia. So, the nose was removed from the Museum on the National Mall and shipped to the Smithsonian’s Mary Baker Engen Restoration Hangar.

Back to the archives

Around the same time, staff got to work retrieving the rest of Flak-Bait from crates scattered through the SNASM archives. Eventually, all the parts of the historic bomber were back in the same place. And fortunately, most of the sections had escaped the dubious restoration techniques that had been applied to the nose.

A unique aircraft

“It’s the originality of the artifact that’s so striking,” SNASM curator Jeremy Kinney told Air & Space Magazine in 2015. “What’s amazing is that the aircraft is pretty much as it was in 1945. It shows dust, scratches, and lumps, but it’s the ‘barn find’ of our dreams.”

Patching the holes

As museum staff began to piece Flak-Bait back together, it became clear just how many hits the bomber had taken during its long career. In fact, its fuselage was littered with scraps of fabric and aluminum, used to patch up the holes left by German anti-aircraft weapons during combat.

Repairs don't stop

“There are two patched holes in the wings in excess of 16 inches wide,” restorer Pat Robinson told Air & Space Magazine. But these were far from the only reminders of Flak-Bait’s violent past. Inside the bomber, the team also found a number of spent casings as well as live ammunition.

Deeply embedded

According to reports, both the main fuselage and the wings of the bomber still carried pieces of flak, embedded deeply into the metal. And underneath the aircraft, the team spotted a set of faded stripes. According to historians, these were painted on most Allied planes in preparation for the Normandy landings.

Enemy vs. Ally

Apparently, these markings were used so that crews on the ground could distinguish between Allied craft over Normandy and those flown by enemy forces. But in the decades since that 1944 operation, most have disappeared. In fact, it’s believed that Flak-Bait is the only American World War II bomber with its so-called invasion stripes intact.

A whole host of materials

Elsewhere, restorers stumbled upon items such as matches and cigarette butts – objects that gave them an insight into the everyday lives of the bomber’s crew. In one spot, they also discovered evidence of an early radar-avoidance technique that is still used by the armed forces today. Dubbed Window by the British during World War II, it involves releasing high numbers of strips of aluminum to confuse enemy equipment by producing extra reflection signals.

Layers of dust and grime

In the wheel well, meanwhile, the team uncovered Flak-Bait’s tool kit, still in its bag. And on the outside of the fuselage, games of tic-tac-toe could still be seen etched into a layer of dust and grime. Speaking to Air & Space Magazine, Robinson speculated that the marks could have been made by crew members while they were sheltering from the rain.

Successful mission count

So what other evidence of Flak-Bait’s wartime escapades did its crew leave behind? One of the most striking relics is the brightly painted mural covering one side of the aircraft’s battered nose. It’s made up of 199 small bombs and one large one, representing the number of successful active missions completed by the plane.

Meaning of the symbols

The mural also features six red ducks — one for each of the decoy missions undertaken by the bomber. Beside them is a solitary swastika daubed in red paint, representing one particular incident in October 1943. During that mission, records show, a gunner on Flak-Bait successfully shot down a German plane.

Visible markings

For years, these markings had been visible to anyone visiting the Flak-Bait exhibition at the Museum on the National Mall. But it was only after restoration work began in 2014 that they were revealed in all their glory. According to SNASM, parts of the mural had been overpainted during the 1970s restoration.

UV light tests

Using ultraviolet light, the team were able to identify which sections of the nose had been overpainted, using this information to inform their meticulous work. Elsewhere, they applied a technique known as infrared reflectography to search for any markings of historical significance that may have been hidden beneath the more recent layers of paint.

Stories beneath the paint

As it turns out, it was worth the effort. There, under the paintwork, were the signatures of men who had flown on Flak-Bait, scrawled in pencil onto the bomber’s fuselage. Having found the markings, the team set about carefully uncovering them, bringing the story of the crew back to life once more.

Restoring the legacy

Eventually, restorers were able to strip most of the 1970s overpainting from the bomber’s fuselage, reversing the original restoration job. And by the time that it goes on display to the public, it will look just as it did at the end of the war – bullet wounds and all. To Kinney, this work is a vital part of Flak-Bait’s legacy.

Acting as a metaphor

“The preservation of Flak-Bait ensures that future generations of museum visitors will be able to see the beat-up bomber… that Americans used to help save the world in the 1940s,” Kinney told Air & Space Magazine in 2020. In fact, he believes that this single aircraft can serve as a metaphor for the country’s involvement in the conflict as a whole.

An enduring symbol

Flak-Bait’s survival over the long and bitter air war from 1943 to 1945 symbolizes the patriotism, service, and sacrifice of not only the crews that fought in the air, the mechanics that kept it flying and the people back home that made the bomber, but all Americans that made up the national war effort,” Kinney explained.

Standing for future generations

Currently, SNASM hopes to finish the restoration in 2025, after which Flak-Bait will be displayed in its entirety. And given its colorful history, it’s likely to become an attraction to rival other famous planes, such as Memphis Belle. Another bomber flown by U.S. forces during World War II, this renowned B-17F Flying Fortress has a legacy of its own.

Going down in history

Among the first aircraft of its kind to complete 25 bombing missions, Memphis Belle inspired two movies and is famous around the world. And since May 2018, the aircraft has been among the star attractions at the National Museum of the United States Air Force in Ohio. But, of course, this flight history pales in comparison to Flak-Bait’s record of 206 – suggesting that SNASM may well have a hit on their hands.

Ingenious camouflage

At least Flak-Bait survived against all the odds. Many planes didn’t during WWII’s brutal combat. Ships were sunk, too, by both the Axis and Allied powers. And at first, the Abraham Crijnssen looked like she would suffer a similar watery fate. She needed to get back to Australia, but her lack of speed and armaments put her in real danger during the crossing. There was nothing else for it, then, but to deck the ship in an ingenious form of camouflage.

Dealing with the Japanese

Before the crew of the Abraham Crijnssen found themselves on board a makeshift tropical island, though, they had been busy dealing with the Japanese. The Pacific War had broken out in late 1941, and the territory involved in the skirmish included the Dutch East Indies.

Surprise attack

And the Pacific War had begun after the Japanese had made their surprise attack on Pearl Harbor in Hawaii – dragging the U.S. into the Second World War as a consequence. This assault famously took place on December 7, 1941, and President Roosevelt would memorably describe this as “a date which will live in infamy.”

Launching offensives

Then, after hitting Pearl Harbor, the Japanese launched a variety of offensives across the Pacific – including an attack on the Dutch East Indies. The colony was regarded as a prime target because of its wealth of natural resources, and both oil and rubber were essential for the Japanese to sustain their war effort.

The Netherlands hits back

The Netherlands had already been effectively annexed by Nazi Germany after the country’s surrender on May 7, 1940. Even so, the Dutch government-in-exile, based in London, still laid claim to its Pacific colony. In November 1941 the Dutch therefore sent a Royal Netherlands Navy force to defend their possession. And the day after Pearl Harbor, the Netherlands government declared that the nation was at war with the Japanese Empire.

The Japanese move in

Surprisingly, in the face of the Dutch declaration, the Japanese bided their time, only formally going to war with the Netherlands weeks later on January 11, 1942. But by then, they were already moving on the Dutch East Indies territory of Borneo – opposed along the way by an alliance of Dutch, British, American and Australian troops, or ABDA.

Allies in tow

As well as the Dutch naval contingent, the Allied forces consisted of a few British and Australian ships along with vessels from the U.S. Asiatic Fleet. The Americans had just been involved in the unsuccessful defense of the Philippines, failing then to stem the seemingly unstoppable Axis onslaught in the Pacific. And, unfortunately, the Japanese would similarly overwhelm the ABDA craft.

No stopping the Japanese

There was seemingly no stopping the Japanese, either, as they systematically captured island after island. This was despite the fact that their tactics amounted to advancing only as far as their air cover would allow. The historian Samuel Morison described the Japanese movement across the islands of the Dutch East Indies in his 1948 book, The Rising Sun in the Pacific.

A vast octopus

“The manner of the Japanese advance resembled the insidious yet irresistible clutching of multiple tentacles,” Morison wrote. “Like some vast octopus, it relied on strangling many small points rather than concentration on a vital organ. No one arm attempted to meet the entire strength of the ABDA fleet. Each fastened on a small portion of the enemy and, by crippling him locally, finished by killing the entire animal.”

Devastating sea battle

And the ABDA fleet was summarily routed in a series of sea battles. The first and most devastating of these for the Allies was the Battle of the Java Sea on February 7, 1942, which saw the Dutch commander of the ABDA fleet, Rear-Admiral Karel Doorman, killed in a decisive victory for the Japanese Navy. Then, in the days that followed, the Japanese pushed home their advantage in smaller naval skirmishes.

Reduced to one ship

For example, the Battle of Sunda Strait would commence mere hours after the Java Sea success. Then there was the Second Battle of the Java Sea a couple of days after the first crushing defeat of the Allied naval force. And following these attacks, the ABDA fleet was now reduced to just one full-scale warship: the antiquated U.S.S. Marblehead.

Another survivor

But while the ABDA forces had effectively ceased to exist, the old Marblehead was not the only Allied vessel to have somehow escaped the carnage. Another survivor was the Abraham Crijnssen – the Dutch ship we met earlier.

A royal name

The full title of this Royal Netherlands Navy craft was the H.N.M.L.S. Abraham Crijnssen, with that acronym standing for “Her Netherlands Majesty’s Ship” when translated from Dutch to English. The majesty in question was the Dutch Queen Wilhelmina, who was living in exile in Britain at the time of the Battle of the Java Sea.

Ready for launch

And the Abraham Crijnssen had been constructed at the Werf Gusto shipyard in the Netherlands city of Schiedam – effectively a suburb of the major port of Rotterdam. She was one of eight minesweepers of the Jan van Amstel class that had been built for the Dutch Navy during the 1930s, in fact. Then, in September 1936, the ship was launched from the Schiedam yard, being commissioned as a navy vessel eight months later.

A swashbuckling hero

But who exactly was the ship named for? Well, Abraham Crijnssen was somewhat of a swashbuckling naval hero. Back in the 17th century, he had fought in various sea battles in European waters, although he is arguably best remembered for his exploits in claiming Suriname for his country. Crijnssen was instrumental in defeating the British in a 1667 battle that was part of the Second Anglo-Dutch War, with Suriname remaining in Dutch hands until 1975.

Fully armed

The ship that bore Crijnssen’s name, meanwhile, came in at 525 tons, 184 feet from stern to prow and 25 feet across at her widest point. The two engines powering a pair of propellers also gave her a maximum speed of 15 knots – or about 17 mph. And she was armed, too, with one three-inch cannon and two smaller 20 mm guns as well as an array of anti-submarine depth charges.

Going into action

So, when the Japanese began their attack on the Dutch East Indies in 1941, the Abraham Crijnssen was put into action. At that time, she was stationed at Surabaya, the principal city of East Java. After the comprehensive defeat of the Allied naval force, however, all surviving ships were ordered to make for Australia – a good 2,000 miles away from Surabaya.

A dangerous journey

Yet while the Abraham Crijnssen was supposed to make the journey in a small flotilla with three other ships, she ultimately set off on her own. This was an extremely perilous undertaking, as with a maximum speed of 15 knots and just a trio of guns for defense, the vessel was highly vulnerable.

Slim chances of survival

If any Japanese plane spotted the Abraham Crijnssen – or if she encountered any enemy ships on the open sea – her chances of survival were slim. In fact, the only way that she could conceivably succeed in reaching the safety of Australia was if she could do so unseen by Japanese eyes. But how could a 184-foot-long vessel keep itself hidden during such a lengthy journey?

Others already lost

And there was no doubt that the danger faced by the Abraham Crijnssen was all too real. After all, three of her sister minesweeper ships had already been lost during the Japanese onslaught on the East Indies. One had been deliberately scuttled on March 2 at Surabaya to avoid her capture, with a second having suffered the same fate on March 8.

Needed a plan

Also on March 8, the Jan Van Amstel minesweeper encountered the Japanese destroyer the Arashio – and was ultimately sunk. So, it was imperative that the captain and crew of the Abraham Crijnssen could settle on a plan that would maximize their chances of reaching Australia.

The strange solution

And the answer they came up with was camouflage. Interestingly, though, the camouflaging of naval ships was a knotty problem that experts had wrestled with at least as far back as the First World War. At that time, one apparently counterintuitive response had been to make vessels more rather than less conspicuous.

Dazzle camouflage

This strange WWI strategy was known as dazzle camouflage, and it had been dreamed up by a Briton called Norman Wilkinson – a navy man who was also an artist. British shipping had been suffering badly at the hands of the German U-boats during WWI, and so the Royal Navy had become desperate to minimize the losses to both merchant and naval craft.

Worth a try

In practice, Wilkinson’s theory involved painting ships in bright colors with jagged, geometric shapes – reminiscent in some ways of Cubist art. These irregular shapes, he believed, would confuse U-boat captains enough that they would not be able to fire their torpedoes with any accuracy. And the commanders at the British Admiralty decided that the bizarre plan was worth a try.

Not hugely effective

Many British ships were painted with these outlandish patterns, and the idea spread to the U.S., where more than 1,200 vessels were given the dazzle treatment during WWI. But whether this peculiar camouflage strategy was effective or not remains an open question. Analyzing sometimes contradictory data, experts have been unable to give a conclusive answer.

Even weirder than the dazzle camouflage

In any case, the crew of the Abraham Crijnssen had neither the time – nor presumably the paint – to start redecorating their ship with a camouflage technique that may or may not have been effective. But they were desperate, and what they did come up with was arguably just as unlikely as the dazzle maneuver.

Looking just like an island

So, what did they decide to do? They formulated a cunning plan to make their ship look to all intents and purposes exactly like a small Pacific island. The Abraham Crijnssen therefore lowered her anchors at the first likely island she came across. And once they had moored, the 45 crew members set to work with a will.

Covering with greenery

Using whatever tools that came to hand, the men, toiling in the intense tropical heat, hacked down all the vegetation they could. After that, they took the greenery to the ship and attached it to its superstructure. Meanwhile, those parts of the ship uncovered by foliage were painted gray to give the impression of rocky outcrops amid the lush jungle growth.

Not actually a bad idea

Then, once the crew had finished their work, the Abraham Crijnssen looked just about as much like a tropical island as any minesweeper could. And the idea was not as hare-brained as it may seem at first. There are after all some 18,000 islands dotted around the waters of the Java Sea – many of them covered in thick jungle foliage.

A back-up plan

Furthermore, as those islands come in all sizes and shapes, at least some of them could have fit the dimensions of a WWII minesweeper. But, of course, the Dutch Navy’s strategy was a little more sophisticated than just disguising the ship as a tropical landmass. In addition, the Abraham Crijnssen would take care not to sail on the open sea during daylight hours.

Surprisingly effective

When the sun was up, then, the ship would remain securely moored at the edge of one of the real islands. And as photographs show, this tactic of blending into the background was surprisingly effective, as only the closest inspection would reveal the Abraham Crinjssen’s hiding place.

Finally safe

Finally, after what must have been at times a hair-raising eight-day voyage, the Abraham Crijnssen reached the safety of the Western Australian port of Fremantle. She arrived on March 20, 1942, and had been the last ship to escape the Japanese forces in the Dutch East Indies.

The Australians take over

But this was by no means the end of the war for the Abraham Crijnssen, as she was subsequently pressed into service for the Australians. Now known as H.M.A.S. Abraham Crijnssen – with that acronym standing for His Majesty’s Australian Ship – the vessel formally joined the nation’s navy in September 1942.

Taking command

And Lieutenant Arthur Irwin Chapman took command of what was now to be an anti-submarine escort ship. Some three decades later, Chapman was to recall the moment when he arrived at his new vessel with two framed photographs: one of the British King George VI, the other of Rita Hayworth “in a very fetching black negligee.”

The Hollywood pin-up

“In the interest of international goodwill, it was agreed that HM Queen Wilhelmina of the Netherlands would remain in the Crijnssen’s wardroom, and so King George was installed in my cabin,” Chapman added. “It was agreed, however, that Miss Hayworth was worthy of wardroom status, and she was installed on the bulkhead opposite Queen Wilhelmina.”

The enemy is near

But it wasn’t all lighthearted moments for the Abraham Crijnssen and the Dutch and Australian sailors who made up her crew. During escort duty on January 26, 1943, the ship’s sonar equipment gave a reading that seemed to suggest an enemy submarine just 700 yards away. Action stations were duly called, and the Abraham Crijnssen’s engine room was given the order, “Full speed ahead.”

Launching missiles

The ship then launched two of her depth charges, calibrated to explode just 50 feet below the sea’s surface. These were followed by more charges, which detonated at 100 feet. But while lookouts subsequently saw some detritus on the surface, no one observed definitive evidence of a downed sub.

Sustaining damage

The Abraham Crijnssen had sustained some damage to her stern in the process, although she was fortunately able to sail back to her base in Sydney for repairs. And later, Chapman explained what had happened, writing, “The Crijnssen had not picked up sufficient speed from her patrol speed, and two depth charges set at 50 feet severely shook up the after section, smashing every bit of crockery, tearing off light switches and fittings and fracturing several minor pipelines.”

A blessed relief

Chapman continued, “Queen Wilhelmina crashed to the deck, King George was hanging crazily on one screw, but Miss Hayworth was completely secure.” Luckily, there did not seem to be any lasting problems, and so the ship returned to the Dutch navy in May 1943, continuing her escort duties for the rest of the war.

Her final fate

Then, after peace had broken out, the Abraham Crijnssen was involved in ultimately unsuccessful attempts to deny independence to the Dutch East Indies. In 1960 she also became a training vessel before finally moving to her current home at the Dutch Navy Museum. And to this day, the ship remains almost certainly the only craft of its kind to survive WWII by pretending to be an island.