Veronico explores the romantic era of World War II warbirds and the stories of some of its most famous wrecks, including the "Swamp Ghost" (a B-17E which crashed in New Guinea in the early days of World War II and which was only recently recovered), and "Glacier Girl" (a P-38, part of "The Lost Squadron," which crashed in a large ice sheet in Greenland in 1942). Throughout, Veronico provides a history of the aircraft, as well as the unique story behind each discovery and recovery with ample illustrations.
The second installment in a series exploring the stories of famous wrecks and recoveries of World War II-era aircraft. Features over 150 photographs depicting more than 20 warbird stories around the world"--
Veronico explores the romantic era of World War II warbirds and the stories of some of its most famous wrecks, including the "Swamp Ghost" (a B-17E which crashed in New Guinea in the early days of World War II and which was only recently recovered), and "Glacier Girl" (a P-38, part of "The Lost Squadron," which crashed in a large ice sheet in Greenland in 1942). Throughout, Veronico provides a history of the aircraft, as well as the unique story behind each discovery and recovery with ample illustrations.
Another volume in the Stackpole Military Photo Series, Boneyard Nose Art gives readers a first-hand look at retired American military aircraft, emphasizing their nose art. Featuring aircraft from World War II, Korea, Vietnam, and the Gulf Wars, over 300 color photos detail fighters, bombers, tankers, and transports, such as the B-2, B-17, F-16, C-130, and more. An ideal reference for modelers, military history enthusiasts, and art buffs, this title is also a perfect complement to the narrative accounts in the Stackpole Military History Series, including Airborne Combat, Coast Watching in WWII, and Flying American Combat Aircraft.
The second installment in a series exploring the stories of famous wrecks and recoveries of World War II-era aircraft. Features over 150 photographs depicting more than 20 warbird stories around the world"--
Unlike any other boneyard book youve seen in the past, Military Aircraft Boneyards takes a complete look at the fate of a variety of abandoned and obsolete aircraft across America. Nick Veronico uncovers the early history of aircraft disposal sites, plus how to insider details on the entire disposal process. Graveyards of the past at Kingman and Litchfield Park, Arizona, are covered along with todays disposal site at Davis Monthan Air Force Base. Includes coverage of the most recent boneyard arrivals.
Menlo Park is ideally situated on the center of the San Francisco peninsula, benefitting from the bayside's near-perfect weather. In the late 1800s, the area's temperate climate drew many of San Francisco's elite to build lavish summer estates in town. During World War I, the area played host to the Army's Camp Fremont, and when World War II came to town, Menlo Park was home to Dibble Army Hospital. The city grew up along El Camino Real, and its downtown retail district centers around Santa Cruz Avenue. Today, Menlo Park is a suburban oasis of beautiful homes with a thriving business community that incorporates a number of leading high-tech companies.
The Great Depression was a terrible blow for the Bay Area's thriving art community. A few private art projects kept a small number of sculptors working, but for the majority, prospects of finding new commissions were grim. By the mid-1930s, Pres. Franklin D. Roosevelt's New Deal program had gathered steam, and assistance was provided to the nation's art community. Salvation came from the Works Progress Administration (WPA), which employed thousands of artists to produce sculpture for public venues. The Bay Area art community subsequently benefitted from the need to fill the then-forthcoming Golden Gate International Exposition (GGIE) with sculpture of all shapes and sizes. As bad as the Depression was, its legacy more than 80 years on is one of beauty. The Bay Area is dotted with sculpture from this era, the majority of it on public display. Depression-Era Sculpture of the Bay Area is a visual tour of this artistic bounty.
In the dark, frenzied years of World War II, the San Francisco Bay Area was the geographic center of a $6.3 billion West Coast shipbuilding industry. Stretching from the Golden Gate to Vallejo to Sunnyvale, 14 Bay Area yards launched many of the ships that helped save the free world. Basalt Rock of Napa, Bethlehem Steel of San Francisco and Alameda, Hunters Point and Mare Island Naval Shipyards, Joshua Hendy Iron Works of Sunnyvale, Marinship of Sausalito, Permanente Metals in Richmond, and Western Pipe and Steel in South San Francisco are names that still conjure memories for many locals of one of the most impassioned war efforts in human history. Offering new opportunities for African Americans and women, recruiters searched the nation for workers who relocated here by the thousands. These motivated men and women delivered Liberty cargo ships like the SS Robert E. Peary, built in seven and a half days, a shipbuilding record that stands to this day.
F4U Corsair Veronico, Campbell & Campbell. The formidable gull-wing F4U Corsair was flown in WWII and Korea by such legendary aces as ôPappy" Boyington, ôIke" Kepford, and ôTommy" Blackburn, by top squadrons such as the ôBlack Sheep" and the ôJolly Rogers." This famous fighter aircraft is profiled in-depth in this detailed combat history, based almost entirely on interviews with the pilots who fought Zeros and MiGs high over Pacific and Korean battlegrounds. A complete developmental history of all US and foreign variants. Sftbd., 9"x 10 1/2", 144 pgs., 89 b&w ill., 44 color.
IT had rained in torrents all the way down from Schenectady, so when Jack Duane glimpsed the lights of what looked to be a big house through the trees, he braked his battered, convertible sedan to a stop at the side of the road. Mud lay along the fenders and running boards; mud and water had spumed up and freckled Duane’s face and hat. He pulled off the latter—it was soggy—and slapped it on the seat beside him, leaning out and squinting through the darkness and falling water. He was on the last lap of a two weeks’ journey from San Francisco, his objective being New York City. There he hoped to wangle a job as foreign correspondent from an old crony, J. J. Molloy, now editor of the New York Globe. Adventurer, journalist, globetrotter, Duane was of the type that is always on the move. “It’s a place, anyway, Moses,” he said to the large black man beside him, his servitor and bodyguard, who had accompanied him everywhere for the past three years. “Somebody lives there; they ought to have some gas.” “Yasah,” said Moses, staring past Duane’s shoulder, “it’s a funny-looking place, suh.” Duane agreed. Considering that they were seventy miles from New York, in the foothills of the Catskills, with woods all around them and the rain pouring down, the thing they saw through the trees, some three hundred yards from the country road, was indeed peculiar. It looked more like a couple of Pullman cars coupled together and lighted, than like a farmer’s dwelling. “Fenced in, too,” said Duane, pointing to the high steel fence that bordered the road, separating them from the object of their vision. “And look there—” A fitful flash of lightning in the east, illuminating the distant treetops, showed up the towering steel and network of a high-voltage electric line’s tower. The roving journalist muttered something to express his puzzlement, and got out of the car. Moses followed him. “Well,” said Duane presently, when they had stared a moment longer, “whatever it is, I’m barging in. We’ve got to have some gas or we’ll never make New York tonight.” MOSES agreed. The two men started across the road—the big Negro hatless and wearing a slicker—the reporter in a belted trench coat, his brown felt hat pulled out of shape on his head. “It’s a big thing,” Duane said as he and Moses halted at the fence and peered through. Distantly, he could see now that the mysterious structure in the woods was at least a hundred yards long, flat-topped and black as coal except from narrow shafts of light that came from its windows. “And look at the light coming out of the roof.” That was, indeed, the most peculiar feature of this place they had discovered. From a section of the roof near the center, as though through a skylight, a great white light came out, illuminating the slanting rain and the bending trees.
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