Nose Art: Boeing B-17G Flying Fortress "Nine O Nine"
Though personalized art appeared during World War I, and occasionally grew to incorporate the entire aircraft, most pilots carried a saying or a slogan, or a family crest, or squadron symbol. Some were named, but nose art was not common. During World War II, nose art not only saw its true beginnings, but its heyday.
No one knows exactly who started nose art first--it appeared with both the British and the Germans around the first time, with RAF pilots painting Hitler being kicked or skulls and crossbones on their aircraft, while German nose art was usually a personal symbol, named for a girlfriend or adopting a mascot (such as Adolf Galland using Mickey Mouse, something Walt Disney likely didn't approve of). It would be with the Americans, and a lesser extent the Canadians, that nose art truly became common--and started including its most famous forms, which was usually half-naked or completely naked women. This was not always true, but it often was.
The quality of nose art depended on the squadron or wing artist. Some of it was rather crude, while others were equal to the finest pinup artists in the United States, such as Alberto Vargas. For men thousands of miles away from home and lonely, a curvaceous blonde on a B-17 or a P-51 made that loneliness a bit easier. Others thought naked women were a little crude, and just limited themselves to names, or depicted animals, cartoon characters, or patriotic emblems, or caricatures of the Axis dictators they were fighting.
Generally speaking, there was little censorship, with squadron and group commanders rarely intervening on names or pictures; the pilots themselves practiced self-censorship, with profanity almost unknown, and full-frontal nudity nearly nonexistent. After the loss of a B-17 named "Murder Inc.," which the Germans captured and used to make propaganda, the 8th Air Force, at least, set up a nose art committee that reviewed the nose art of aircraft--but even it rarely wielded its veto. For the most part, nose art was limited only by the crew's imagination and the artist's ability. The British tended to stay away from the lurid nudes of the Americans, though the Canadians adopted them as well. (The Axis also did not use nose art in this fashion, and neither did the Soviets, who usually confined themselves to patriotic slogans on their aircraft, such as "For Stalin!" or "In the Spirit of the Motherland!")
When World War II ended, so did nose art, for the most part. In the peacetime, postwar armed forces, the idea of having naked women were wives and children could see it was not something the postwar USAF or Navy wanted, and when it wasn't scrapped, it was painted over. A few units (especially those away from home and family) still allowed it, but it would take Korea to begin a renaissance of nose art.
The real "Nine O Nine" was 42-31909, a B-17G assigned to the 91st Bomb Group at RAF Bassingbourne, UK during World War II; it became famous for completing 132 missions over Europe--quite an achievement when a B-17 was lucky to complete 25 missions. It was scrapped after the war, but when the Collings Foundation restored another B-17G, 44-83575, back to wartime configuration, it was repainted as "Nine O Nine." 44-83575 had its own interesting history, having survived being exposed to several nuclear detonations on the Nevada Test Range and then sitting in the desert for 13 years before it was restored.
"Nine O Nine's" artwork depicts a leperchaun thumbing its nose at the Germans, while riding a bomb; 132 bomb mission marks decorate the nose, along with three swastikas--the real "Nine O Nine" was credited with three kills. A Norden bombsight can be seen in the nose.
Sadly, this would prove to be one of the last pictures taken of this historic aircraft. Almost three months later, on 2 October 2019, 44-83575 crashed in Connecticut, with the deaths of seven out of the 13 people aboard.
Nose Art: Boeing B-17G Flying Fortress "Nine O Nine"
Though personalized art appeared during World War I, and occasionally grew to incorporate the entire aircraft, most pilots carried a saying or a slogan, or a family crest, or squadron symbol. Some were named, but nose art was not common. During World War II, nose art not only saw its true beginnings, but its heyday.
No one knows exactly who started nose art first--it appeared with both the British and the Germans around the first time, with RAF pilots painting Hitler being kicked or skulls and crossbones on their aircraft, while German nose art was usually a personal symbol, named for a girlfriend or adopting a mascot (such as Adolf Galland using Mickey Mouse, something Walt Disney likely didn't approve of). It would be with the Americans, and a lesser extent the Canadians, that nose art truly became common--and started including its most famous forms, which was usually half-naked or completely naked women. This was not always true, but it often was.
The quality of nose art depended on the squadron or wing artist. Some of it was rather crude, while others were equal to the finest pinup artists in the United States, such as Alberto Vargas. For men thousands of miles away from home and lonely, a curvaceous blonde on a B-17 or a P-51 made that loneliness a bit easier. Others thought naked women were a little crude, and just limited themselves to names, or depicted animals, cartoon characters, or patriotic emblems, or caricatures of the Axis dictators they were fighting.
Generally speaking, there was little censorship, with squadron and group commanders rarely intervening on names or pictures; the pilots themselves practiced self-censorship, with profanity almost unknown, and full-frontal nudity nearly nonexistent. After the loss of a B-17 named "Murder Inc.," which the Germans captured and used to make propaganda, the 8th Air Force, at least, set up a nose art committee that reviewed the nose art of aircraft--but even it rarely wielded its veto. For the most part, nose art was limited only by the crew's imagination and the artist's ability. The British tended to stay away from the lurid nudes of the Americans, though the Canadians adopted them as well. (The Axis also did not use nose art in this fashion, and neither did the Soviets, who usually confined themselves to patriotic slogans on their aircraft, such as "For Stalin!" or "In the Spirit of the Motherland!")
When World War II ended, so did nose art, for the most part. In the peacetime, postwar armed forces, the idea of having naked women were wives and children could see it was not something the postwar USAF or Navy wanted, and when it wasn't scrapped, it was painted over. A few units (especially those away from home and family) still allowed it, but it would take Korea to begin a renaissance of nose art.
The real "Nine O Nine" was 42-31909, a B-17G assigned to the 91st Bomb Group at RAF Bassingbourne, UK during World War II; it became famous for completing 132 missions over Europe--quite an achievement when a B-17 was lucky to complete 25 missions. It was scrapped after the war, but when the Collings Foundation restored another B-17G, 44-83575, back to wartime configuration, it was repainted as "Nine O Nine." 44-83575 had its own interesting history, having survived being exposed to several nuclear detonations on the Nevada Test Range and then sitting in the desert for 13 years before it was restored.
"Nine O Nine's" artwork depicts a leperchaun thumbing its nose at the Germans, while riding a bomb; 132 bomb mission marks decorate the nose, along with three swastikas--the real "Nine O Nine" was credited with three kills. A Norden bombsight can be seen in the nose.
Sadly, this would prove to be one of the last pictures taken of this historic aircraft. Almost three months later, on 2 October 2019, 44-83575 crashed in Connecticut, with the deaths of seven out of the 13 people aboard.