The Boeing B-29 Superfortress was more than just another aircraft in the skies of World War II—it was a milestone. Not only because of its advanced capabilities, but because of what it represented: a convergence of the latest technology, colossal industrial might, and the point at which the world finally began to inhabit the atomic age. Its narrative is as much about decisions and people as it is about bomb loads and blueprints.
The idea for the B-29 was conceived in 1940, when the U.S. Army Air Corps envisioned an aggressive plan for a bomber: one that would hit 400 mph, have a 10-ton bomb capacity, and have a combat range of 2,500 miles. That was no minor challenge in those days. Boeing responded with its Model 345, which would ultimately become the B-29. General “Hap” Arnold approved the green light in June of that year, and the prototype was airborne by September 1942. What ensued was not another bomber project—it was the most expensive military endeavor of World War II. It surpassed the Manhattan Project’s price, reaching a mind-boggling $3 billion.
Constructing the B-29 wasn’t all about factories and components—it was coordination and tenacity. The Wichita factory set the pace, producing the first completed aircraft and ultimately more than a thousand. The milestone was celebrated with a ceremony involving the 1,000th B-2, 9, draped in $10,000 in actual money, y—subsequently donated to charity. It was a symbolic, celebratory moment for the production-line workers.
Other principal locations such as Seattle, Renton, Marietta, and Omaha also contributed, assisted by firms such as Cessna, Beechcraft, and General Motors, which constructed subassemblies. Women flocked into the workforce, entering machine shops and assembly lines with men. They were assisted with training programs, counseling services, and policies to enable them to perform in new jobs—another true story in itself.
The B-29 set technical precedent in ways few machines ever had. Unlike previous bombers, in which crews huddled in cold, unpressurized compartments, the B-29 boasted a fully pressurized cabin, ns—less harsh and much more efficient for long flights. But perhaps the most revolutionary aspect was its central fire control system.
This analog wonder, refined by General Electric following Sperry’s initial setbacks, permitted gunners to control turrets from within the pressurized cabin. It was more efficient, safer, and much more advanced during its time. Subsequently, however, this system was taken off the specially adapted atomic bombers to reduce their weight and enhance performance.
The atomic bomb revolutionized the game, and so did the role of the B-29 in delivering it. At first, Dr. Norman Ramsey—one of the principal designers of the bomb casings—considered that the British Avro Lancaster could be a better choice due to its wider bomb bay. But political and strategic considerations led American leaders, particularly General Leslie Groves and General Arnold, to demand keeping the whole operation be kept strictly American.
The B-29, despite its technical glitches, was the vessel chosen. This choice brought with it a single-minded effort known as the “Silverplate” program, solely dedicated to adapting the B-29 to deliver atomic bombs. These aircraft had the majority of their defense weapons removed, were redesigned with new fittings in their bomb bays to accommodate the enormous “Little Boy” and “Fat Man” bombs, and were upgraded with engines for increased power. They also added a new crew member—the “Weaponeer”—who handled the arming system of the bomb while airborne.
Training for the missions was as secretive as it was rigorous. A select group of crews at Wendover Field in Utah rehearsed with “pumpkin bombs” – mock-ups that had the same shape and weight as the real ones. Secrecy was absolute. Commands were issued to destroy any records that would connect personnel to Wendover, and even members of their own families were left in the dark.
At the same time, half a world away, Tinian Island in the Mariana Islands was transformed into an airpower powerhouse. After being captured by American forces, it was the war’s largest airbase, featuring six runways and extensive support facilities. It was in an ideal location to serve as the starting point for the 509th Composite Group—the group tasked with executing the atomic attacks. Each phase of the mission was prepared with remarkable accuracy. Following the dropping of the bomb, pilots would bank and pull off a sharp turn at full speed to be as far away from the explosion as they could—a feat made possible due to the Silverplate modifications.
On August 6, 1945, Paul Tibbets piloted the Enola Gay, which dropped the “Little Boy” bomb on Hiroshima. Three days later, Bockscar did the same with “Fat Man,” over Nagasaki. Every mission wasn’t simply one bomber overhead—several Silverplate B-29s were accompanying, taking on weather reconnaissance, measurement, and support missions. The Great Artiste, among them, played a crucial role in collecting data from both explosions and is one of the operation’s most remembered components.
The B-29 wasn’t finished with the war. Modified Silverplate bombers were the only atomic delivery systems the U.S. had for years afterward. A few of these planes, such as The Great Arteste, have been restored and preserved and still exist today as reminders of an unparalleled event in history. Beyond the mere machines, they represented a point where human inventiveness, industrial power, and international war converged. The legacy of the B-29 is not just in its specifications, but in what it represented: a world on the brink of a new era, shaped by the hands and minds of thousands.