The B-29s
By James E. Simmons, East Sierra Branch
They were always there
Way off in the distance
You could see ‘em, the B-29s
Out there on the north range
Those silver fins poking up, east of NAF
Maybe a hundred or more
Was supposed to be only ten, Mom said
But along the way, somebody added a zero
They flew ‘em in and they just kept coming
Guys stripped ‘em down kept ’em running
Out in the desert with props turning
Until they crashed all over each other
Wingtip inside canopy, bomb bay doors askew
A giant, entangled mass of bent props,
USAF markings, humungous rubber tires blew
And cryptic poetry scrawled by the last crew
It was a sobering, quiet shame: those giant steel props
Bent and twisted and crashed by desert hard drops
The majestic awe of what power they had given
Ending up here, unlamented, unknown and unforgiven
Why were they here, the B-29s?
Why in plain sight but so far away?
A secret, forbidden and prohibited visit
A hiding hike, but many kids claim it
Dunno how many times we went
Dodging presumed air patrols by a random jet
Creosote bushes covering our advance
It was a long way in, but worth every sin
Once aboard, you never had to touch the ground
But would a fun-seeking aviator launch a round?
For practice they said, or so we heard
What could go wrong, out there on the B-29s?
No earthly plan or design could have arranged the display
We found of twisted frames, broken glass, and disarray
Where now kids like us could run, explore and play
Out there, on the desert, on the range, forbidden on the B-29s
Spiders raced us
Crawling through the dusty tunnel along the spine
Above the bomb bay
From cockpit to the tail gunner’s lonely space
If she stood where the wing joined and leaned back
Your girlfriend curved nicely toward the top
So, I been told, I wouldn’t really know
Accommodating romance on the wings of attack
The Navy took wings and tails for vital tests
Disney made a movie after taking three
Confederate Air Force came and flew away Fifi
Some guy got Doc, Planet Mojave got the rest
The Superforts had a most distinctive interior smell
Visiting Fifi in Oakland years later we recalled it well
It was robust still, and so was she
There were so many B-29s out there
Yeah, we China Lake kids snuck out there and played
We found logbooks, and sloshed tanks full in the bomb bay
Our parents, and Officer Peňa, would still be dismayed
But none ever knew how many trips other kids made
For those who know, come nods and wry smiles
Memories of good times and great whiles
Little remains of those times
When our lives were enchanted by those B-29s.