How A B-29 Bomber Fought Without A Tail

On January 27, 1945, 1st Lt. Edmund Smith and his B-29 crew took off from Isley Airfield to bomb the Musashiho and Nakajima aircraft factories in Tokyo.

Destroying these factories was crucial to halting Japanese aircraft production. However, their mission turned deadly when, just 15 miles west of Tokyo near Mt. Fuji, they were attacked by Japan’s top “B-29 killer,” Isamu Kashiide.

Flying his Ki-45 “Nick” fighter, Kashiide spotted the B-29 while the crew was busy engaging a Japanese Zero. Seizing the opportunity, Kashiide fired his 37mm autocannon, hitting the B-29’s nose. The crew lost control, cabin pressure dropped, and temperatures inside the plane fell to -58 degrees. Two engines failed, and the bomber lagged behind the formation.

Despite the damage, the B-29 stayed airborne but continued losing altitude. A squadron of Zeros launched a third attack, firing on the tail and destroying most of the stabilizers. As the plane plummeted, Lt. Smith ordered the crew to bail out. Four crew members stayed behind, and the plane ultimately crashed into a nearby village, killing seven civilians.

Lt. Raymond Halloran, one of the survivors, recalled free-falling for 24,000 feet before deploying his parachute. As they descended, Japanese fighters approached. Halloran expected to be shot, but instead, one pilot, Hideichi Kaiho, saluted him and flew away. This act of mercy gave Halloran a new perspective on the war.

Once captured, Halloran and the other survivors were beaten by a Japanese crowd before being taken to Kempei Tai prison, known for torture. After months of solitary confinement and interrogation, Halloran was transferred to the Ueno Zoo, where he was displayed in a tiger cage for public ridicule. Later, he was sent to the same POW camp as famed Marine ace Gregory “Pappy” Boyington. They became friends until their rescue four months later.

Halloran, one of the last members of the Rover Boys Express, lived a long life after the war, passing away in 2011 at the age of 89. He was buried at Arlington National Cemetery, where his extraordinary tale of survival and resilience endures.