Probably the largest and most majestic aircraft of all time is the Peacemaker Convair B-36, which essentially pays homage to the terror, the brilliance, and a very key requirement of the early Cold War Air Force. It was really created as a consequence of events in World War II, when US war leaders imagined that Great Britain might fall into the hands of the Nazis and that there would be no close bases from which to make big air raids. Having to strike targets located very far away from their own country, the U.S. Army Air Forces demanded such incredible characteristics that they seemed to be out of fiction: a flying range of 10,000 miles, a maximum altitude of 40,000 feet, and the ability to carry a very heavy bomb load over land.
Consolidated Vultee, later named Convair, got the job in late 1941, beating Boeing. Making the B-36 was tough. The first plans made the tech of that time work hard, which meant many changes had to be made. Its 230-foot wingspan, the widest of any war plane ever and still the top today, was huge. The wings were so big that the builders made small paths inside them. This let the crew fix the engines in the air—a fact that still grabs the love of plane fans.
The Peacemaker’s engines were nothing short of remarkable. Initial models used six Pratt & Whitney R-4360 Wasp Major radial engines in a “pusher” arrangement, with propellers facing the rear. Later models featured four General Electric J47 jet engines mounted under the wings, thereby earning the descriptor “six turning, four burning.” The combination allowed the B-36 to cruise around 200 miles per hour and reach speeds over 400 miles per hour at altitude—slow for a jet, but impressive for an aircraft of such size. The B-36J could fly nearly 40,000 feet with a maximum takeoff weight of 410,000 pounds, figures that sound impressive even today.
The B-36 entered service with the newly established Strategic Air Command in 1948 when tensions against the Soviet Union were escalating. The main use of the B-36 was nuclear deterrence. With a load of up to 86,000 pounds of bombs—four times the B-29’s—the Peacemaker could ship America’s biggest thermonuclear and atomic bombs to remote places without interruption. Versions were equipped for reconnaissance, while others, like the NB-36H, even tested out nuclear-powered flight concepts. Its range and length made it nearly impossible to penetrate for early air defenses, at least during the first few years of the aircraft’s operation.
Life on board was tough. Crews of 15 to 22 men spent dozens of hours in the air, often over two days at a time, in sometimes unpressurized cockpits far above the surface. The engines were finicky, maintenance was complex, and the plane had to be constantly monitored. Early variants could be outfitted with as many as sixteen remotely operated 20mm cannons for defense, although these were reduced later to save weight and improve performance now that jet-fighter opponents were becoming a greater threat.
Despite having formidable capabilities, the B-36 never went to war. Its purpose was deterrence—a visible, physical demonstration of American power. The aircraft was mocked as the “Billion Dollar Boondoggle,” and some questioned whether money would have been better spent on newer bombers or Navy ships.
But for more than a decade, the Peacemaker was the staple of the U.S. nuclear arsenal, filling the gap between the World War II piston-engine bombers and the jet-powered B-52 Stratofortress that would ultimately supplant it. As jet technology advanced, the B-36’s slow speed and maintenance demands highlighted the limits of its design.
Production ended in 1954, and 384 planes were completed. In 1958, the fleet was retired as the B-52 moved in. The last flight of a B-36 was made on April 30, 1959, from Davis-Monthan Air Force Base to the National Museum of the United States Air Force, where it remains today—a tribute to the engineers, crews, and maintainers who kept the aircraft flying.
The B-36’s legacy is monumental. It stretched the boundaries of aeronautical engineering, influenced bomber design for decades, and contributed to Cold War nuclear doctrine. Its sheer size, ten engines, and distinctive outline made it iconic—a symbol of American power, a representation of hope and terror in its era.
Today, there are fewer than ten B-36s remaining in museums, silent witnesses to a time when the delicate balance of power rested upon wings that stretched nearly the length of a football field.