B-36

The early Cold War was a time of improved technology but even more inflated expectations. Nuclear weapons were politically important, but unwieldy. (The B-29s that dropped nuclear weapons on Japan had to be specially modified; they were so close to the ground that to load they had to straddle pits dug in the runway.) The B-29 could deliver a finishing blow from near-by islands, but the Air Force wanted a plane that could span the globe to strike at the heart of the enemy flying from the USA (originally the enemy was Germany, but after WWII they just search-and-replaced to USSR). The result was the B-36.

The B-36 is an enlarged WWII bomber. The wings are straight not swept. Defensive turrets sprinkle the skin, even though increasing speeds rendered them practially useless. The engines are all in the wings, not podded. Oh, and there are ten (ten!) of them. Oh, and four of them are jets and six are piston engines. That’s right, it’s a pre-Prius hybrid. To optimists, this was the perfect mix of jets’ added thrust (for take-off and high-speed dashes) and pistons’ reliability and efficiency. This was a plane with an infomercial sales pitch, but it came along at America’s insomniac 2AM and taxpayers bought it.

With that context, the portraits themselves. A B-36 next to a B-29 looking the same, but larger, but less elegant. An early configuration with one giant tire. Another configuration with tank tracks instead of wheels. (Eventually, they settled on the normal many-wheeled model that every sane design ever uses.)

The B-36 proudly served for 7 years before its replacements arrived and the Air Force started scrapping them.