Just a few years after the birth of a new century two American brothers made ready to launch an era in the shape of an ungainly collection of wood, wires, and canvas.

By 1914 men were taking incredible risks flying fragile aircraft above a landscape that might only have existed before in the tortured mind of some 16th century poet. Cities were destroyed, the countryside was churned into vast cemeteries and the stench of death mingled with the sharp smell of poison gas. If there was anyone above this hell on earth that was the vast network of trenches on the Western Front of World War I, it was the knight of the air. Here, in the clean heavens, amidst fresh white clouds and blue sky, chivalry still existed. In the newly invented aircraft, men could be civilized about killing one another.

But as war, technology, and necessity demanded that civilized combat be supplanted by the skillful art of killing, things changed. Fighters darted across the sky, armed with synchronized machine guns, bombers lumbered overhead, dropping what until that period was inconceivable, and several hundred pounds of bombs on the unsuspecting enemy. Speed was relative. One hundred miles an hour, one hundred and twenty miles an hour -- as little as ninety miles an hour; look at the progress achieved in the air since the first tentative steps taken by pioneer aviators early in the new years of the century when a successful flight could be measured in distances of hundreds of feet or a few miles. It was all very exhilarating, the advance of airpower and the unbelievable leap in progress by aircraft during World War I. Considered quaint machines some years afterward, and they were the prototypes for an air war of unrestrained fury.

Then the war ended, and such things were quickly pushed aside by politicians happy to appease the voter's cry for a return to normalcy. Defense budgets are cut, military forces shrink, and few people hear the faint cries of the prophets who demand that attention be paid to a new, powerful weapon in the arsenal of warfare.

There was the development of American bomber aircraft after the war to end all wars. In the beginning its weapons were primitive, generally obsolete even in the standards of the day and created for the defense of the continental United States, by bombing approaching navies. Air tactics and strategies were based upon vision, misconception, limited experience, and prejudice. Well before the Second World War the powers within the Army Air Corps saw the need for long-range bombers and during this period the formidable B-17 and less well-known but just as effective B-24 were developed. These were dependable workhorses and despite the controversy over the impact of strategic bombing, they took the war over long distances to the enemy. They were prewar products, although they reflected advanced notions of what long-range bombers could be. Wars are often fought on shifting sands, however, and it became apparent to the Army Air Corps late in the 1930s that there was a need for a new, more powerful bomber -- a bomber that could fly 5,000 miles and carry 20,000 pounds of bombs. The venerable Flying Fortress (so named by an awed reporter who saw an impressive array of .50 caliber machine guns jutting from the airplane's body) carried approximately 17,000 pounds of bombs with a range of 1,800 miles. America's other heavy bomber; the Consolidated B-24 could travel more than twice as far but its bomb load was reduced to just 5,000 pounds. The B-24 was never the darling of war correspondents the way the graceful B-17 was; she was slab-sided, and ungainly, and aerodynamically her wings were too thin for her fuselage.

Each of these heavy bombers had a defensive array of .50 caliber machine guns in a variety of nose, fuselage and tail turrets, plus single guns sticking from apertures in their sides. They flew in formations so that their fields of fire were interlocking but that did not always guarantee a safe return. Besides anti-aircraft fire from the ground, enemy fighters often tore into flights, damaging or destroying a number of the big planes. With the appearance of drop tanks on P-38s, P-47s, and P-51s, bomber formations had the added security of “little friends,” American fighters who battled enemy fighters away from the slow moving bomber fleets. It was a gruesome, unremitting campaign in the air, and there are a number of remarkable combat films of the period that show B-17s and B-24s bursting into flames, or swinging slowly out of formation to spiral into the ground. That grainy footage does nothing to convey the horror of that long, slow, final descent.

In the Pacific, there were two enemies -- the Japanese and distance. The American military could bomb the enemy, but only the enemy outposts—the many islands that the Japanese had secured in its early victories. Aside from the propaganda coup scored by the Americans when a handful of B-25s bombed Tokyo in 1942, it was impossible to attack the mainland with any substantial force. Until the B-29.

The bomber was conceived in 1939 as a very long-range aircraft when Europe had erupted in war and the Japanese were well entrenched in China and hovering threateningly over the rest of the Pacific Ocean. The difference between the B-29 and her ancestors was significant. She was 99 feet long, almost 30 feet high at the tail, with a wingspan of just over 141 feet and a gross weight of 120,000 pounds. The Flying Fortress was small in comparison; 74 feet long, 19 feet high, wing span of almost 104 feet, and weighing, with a full load -- 55,000 pounds. Consolidated's B-24 Liberator was comparable to the B-17 with a 110 foot wing span, 67 foot length and 18 foot height. Topped-off with fuel and bombs the B-24 lumbered down the runway at 71,200 pounds. It was in the role as an offensive weapon that the comparisons fell away. A B-24 loaded with 5,000 pounds of bombs could fly 2,100 miles. These are round-trip miles and have to include the time that it takes to form up, any unexpected headwinds, and the possibility that the formation might veer off course.

The B-17 carried a larger bomb-load, 17,600 pounds but couldn't fly as far as her ungainly-looking sister. Speed for the two was the same at 300 mph with the Fortress at 35,000 feet and the Liberator at 30,000. Any statistic has to be viewed carefully because they do not reflect the age of the aircraft, or the engines, or weather, or any of the other myriad conditions tossed into the mix. What should be expected is one thing -- what can be achieved is something entirely different.

So to the statement that the B-29 could fly 5,380 miles, with a top speed of 365 miles an hour (at 25,000 feet although her maximum ceiling was 33,600 feet), carrying 20,000 pounds of bombs; has to be attached the caveat -- she had problems. She had 55,000 numbered parts, mechanics had to be trained, flight crews had to be trained, and the tendency for her engines to burst into flames had to be addressed. She was the most sophisticated aircraft of her era and she was rushed through testing and into production. The fuselage was pressurized -- there would be no need for bulky flying suits or for her crew to brave the harsh elements of high altitude. She carried AN/APQ-13 or AN/APQ-7 radar and her defensive armament was based on a CFC system -- central fire control. Gunners in plexi-glass bubbles directed the gun turrets by remote control. She carried as many as 12 .50 caliber machineguns and a .20 millimeter cannon. She was flush-riveted as well; even the protruding heads of thousands of tiny rivets creates drag. Everything was aerodynamically clean about the B-29 and her aluminum skin was untarnished by paint. The first YB-29 flew in 1942, followed within months by the second and by 1944 the first operational B-29s were in India. In mid-June of that year B-29s bombed the home islands of Japan from airbases in China. The results were not encouraging.

Significantly, on the same day that the bombers attacked the Imperial Iron and Steel Works -- Marines invaded Saipan. American forces were inching closer to the home islands, tightening a noose around Japan by occupying key islands and blocking sea lanes. Key to America's island-hopping strategy were airfields. Secure an island, build an airfield, expand control -- move to the next island. It was evident early on that carriers (reference Pearl Harbor), would play a significant role in the Pacific Theater, and if one doesn't have a carrier, one can occupy an island. But America's battles were not just localized encounters but a steady advance on Japan. Each step closer brought Japanese targets within range of B-29s.

Saipan is an island composed of 15 volcanic mountains in the Marianas chain. The chain includes Guam and Tinian and is located just over 1500 miles from Japan. A one-way trip of fifteen hundred miles (the implications of one-way are ominous) doesn't tax an aircraft with a 5,000 mile range. But that is assuming that the B-29 is not damaged or that some unforeseen mechanical difficulty hasn't suddenly arisen, so that the crew has the terrifying task of nursing the plane back to base. Nothing would be more frightening than the prospect of ditching in the Pacific Ocean, far from home.

The American occupation of Iwo Jima (just 650 miles from Tokyo), in March 1945 cut that torturous flight in half. The island's occupation also saved 24,761 men whose crippled bombers made emergency landings in the shadow of Mount Suribachi. The marines paid dearly to save the lives of those airmen -- one third of all the marines killed in the Pacific died on the black volcanic sands of Iwo Jima.

As massive as the air raids were, and intimidating as the sight of those huge bombers above the skies of Japanese cities must have been, they were, according to some, ineffective. When Major-General Curtis E. LeMay took over command of the XX Bomber Command in the Marianas, he said: “This outfit has been getting a lot of publicity without having really accomplished a hell of a lot in bombing results.” If high-altitude, daylight strategic bombing wasn't working, it was time to try something else. Something radical and something very dangerous for B-29 crews in an already exceedingly dangerous business.

LeMay, after two successful test raids in January and February 1945, ordered a full-scale bombing raid against Tokyo on the night of March 9-10, 1945. The B-29s would go in at low level, at altitudes that varied between 4,900 and 9,200 feet, dropping M69 napalm clusters, and except for the tail guns, they would be unarmed. Unarmed. LeMay has two reasons for this highly unpopular order. First, he was concerned that nervous gunners might fire into friendly planes in the darkness and second; removing the .50 caliber ammunition meant that each plane could carry an additional 3,200 pounds of bombs. Gone was the element of precision and what was introduced was exactly what the British had been doing in Germany; pattern or carpet bombing -- saturate large areas. In the days before smart bombs and laser guided devices the idea of laying a bomb precisely on a target was relative. What LeMay intended to do was to sweep the enemy cities (residential, military, and industrial centers) with fire. He had the perfect weapon in the B-29. It was fast, could carry a huge bomb load, performed well at low-levels (fuel consumption was also reduced), and was sturdy. Three hundred thirty-four bombers carrying 2,000 tons of incendiaries took off for Tokyo. They would deliver 25 tons of bombs per square mile throughout the city -- a city that was composed of many wooden structures. Forty-two bombers were damaged over the target and 14 lost; this loss was nothing compared to what Tokyo suffered.

When Bull Halsey first observed the damage inflicted on the United States Navy at Pearl Harbor, it was reported that he vowed: “Before we're finished, the Japanese language will be spoken only in hell.” What LeMay and his B-29 bombers visited on Tokyo that March night was hell on earth. Firestorms, fed by the combustible buildings and their own wild winds, completely overwhelmed the inadequate fire and emergency response forces of the Japanese capital. Almost 16 square miles of the city were burned out, 267,171 buildings destroyed, over 83,000 people killed and another 40,918 injured. Streets were clogged with piles of charred human beings, some reduced to piles of ashes. Eighteen percent of the industrial area and 63 percent of Tokyo's commercial center were gone. In one night the Japanese capital had virtually been eliminated as a viable military target. The death and destruction that resulted from LeMay's firebombing of Tokyo was roughly equal to that suffered at Hiroshima from the first atomic bomb.

What began as almost a quaint attempt to turn a fledgling invention into a weapon of destruction during the First World War was realized just a few decades later. The men who flew open cockpit aircraft of wood, wires, and canvas probably could not have envisioned the creation of a complex machine like the B-29. It certainly would never have occurred to Orville and Wilbur Wright. When they struggled to get their fragile aircraft aloft in the strong winds of the North Carolina dunes in December 1903, they launched a new era. They could not have envisioned that their modest flight of 120 feet was nearly 20 short of the wingspan of the B-29. Nor could they have foreseen an aircraft of many tons thundering down the runway, bearing a weapon that began an even more troubling era in mankind's long, violent history.