Continue the photography or leave.
Turning Away Would Have Been Easy to Explain
No reasonable commander could pretend twenty fighters were irrelevant.
A lone reconnaissance bomber had discovered stronger opposition than expected.
The pilot could return and report the situation.
Nobody would need to invent an excuse.
The enemy had launched approximately twenty interceptors.
The B-17 had no escort.
The photographic run exposed the aircraft.
Abort.
Try later under different conditions.
That would have been defensible.
The problem was that the intelligence was urgently needed.
The mission had been considered nearly impossible precisely because somebody had to accept this danger.
If Zeamer turned the moment the expected danger appeared, another crew would still need to return.
The Japanese would now be even more alert.
The next attempt might face the same fighters.
Perhaps more.
Zeamer kept the aircraft steady.
Old 666 remained on the photographic line.
The Cameras Continued Taking Pictures While the Fighters Climbed
That contrast captures the entire mission.
Inside the aircraft, specialized equipment performed methodical work.
Frame after frame.
Overlap.
Terrain.
Coastline.
Possible positions.
Below and around them, enemy pilots were preparing to kill the crew operating those cameras.
Photography demands patience.
Air combat rewards movement.
Old 666 had to perform both roles simultaneously.
Zeamer's job was to prevent the battle from destroying the mission before the cameras finished.
The gunners' job was to prevent the fighters from destroying Zeamer.
The Japanese pilots' job was to solve the problem before the B-17 could get away.
The geometry tightened.
The First Attacks Came With Terrifying Speed
Japanese fighters approached from several directions.
Some made frontal passes.
Others attacked from angles designed to avoid the heaviest concentrations of defensive fire.
The gunners aboard Old 666 opened up.
The quiet reconnaissance mission became a full-scale aerial fight.
.50-caliber machine guns hammered inside the Fortress.
Spent cartridges and links accumulated around positions.
Interphone calls overlapped.
Fighter ahead.
Fighter high.
Fighter coming from the side.
Another diving.
One climbing beneath the tail.
The crew had modified Old 666 for exactly this possibility.
Now every extra gun had to justify its weight.
Japanese pilots expected the defensive pattern of a standard B-17.
They encountered something more heavily armed.
That did not stop them.
It made the attack costly.
Sarnoski Faced Them From the Nose
The nose was where incoming fighters could seem to grow from dots into full aircraft almost instantly.
Sarnoski tracked them.
He fired.
A fighter attacking head-on had to accept the possibility that the B-17 would fire directly back.
That kind of combat leaves almost no time for reflection.
The enemy aircraft approaches.
The gun sight moves.
Trigger pressed.
Rounds stream outward.
Incoming fire flashes.
Then the aircraft passes so close and fast that the gunner may not know immediately whether he hit it.
Another follows.
The nose of Old 666 became one of the most dangerous places in the sky.
Sarnoski stayed there.
The Japanese Were Using Cannon as Well as Machine Guns
This mattered enormously.
A rifle-caliber bullet could wound a crewman or damage a system.
A cannon shell carried much greater destructive force.
Explosive rounds striking a bomber could tear through structure, controls, instruments, and crew positions.
A B-17 was strong.
It was not armored like a tank.
Much of its survival came from redundant systems and robust structure rather than protection thick enough to stop cannon fire.
A burst entering the nose could transform the compartment in seconds.
The crew knew it.
They kept shooting.
The Fighters Concentrated on the Front of Old 666
The tactic made sense.
The cockpit, navigator's station, and bombardier's area were critical.
Kill the pilots and the bomber dies regardless of how many tail guns remain.
Damage the controls and the B-17 becomes easier to finish.
Destroy the nose guns and frontal attacks become safer.
The Japanese pilots therefore repeatedly challenged the very modifications Zeamer's crew had made.
Old 666 answered with fire.
The fight became a contest between preparation and numbers.
Preparation could make each pass dangerous.
Numbers allowed the enemy to keep making passes.
A Japanese Attack Hit the Nose Hard
At some point during the fighting, cannon fire struck the forward section.
Sarnoski was wounded severely.
The force of the hit knocked him away from his position.
A normal human reaction after such an injury is to remain down.
Combat duty has limits because bodies have limits.
Sarnoski did not remain down.
Despite his wounds, he returned to the gun.
Enemy fighters were still coming.
Other men in the aircraft depended on somebody covering the nose.
He resumed firing.
This decision would become central to the Medal of Honor citation awarded after the mission.
It was not dramatic because he ignored pain magically.
It was dramatic because he had already been hurt badly enough that remaining at the weapon required conscious effort.
He chose the gun.
Sarnoski Shot Back While Mortally Wounded
During the continuing attacks, he engaged Japanese aircraft effectively.
One attacker came in.
Sarnoski fired.
The enemy fighter went down.
The defensive action bought the bomber another few seconds.
Seconds mattered.
Every fighter forced to break away was one fighter not firing accurately into Old 666.
Every enemy aircraft destroyed reduced the number available for the next attack.
But more were still coming.
Then another cannon shell struck the nose.
This time Sarnoski was killed.
There was no cinematic pause afterward.
No silence across the battlefield.
The fighters did not stop because one American had died at his gun.
The rest of the crew did not receive time to mourn him.
The aircraft still had to be flown.
The photographs still had to be completed.
The attacks continued.
Sarnoski's body remained in the aircraft while his crew fought on.
War can make grief wait.
That is one of its coldest demands.
Zeamer Was Hit Soon After
The cockpit and forward fuselage absorbed repeated fire.
Fragments and rounds wounded Zeamer badly.
His injuries affected his arms and legs.
He was bleeding heavily.
The instinctive solution would have been to let the copilot take control if possible.
But combat damage had turned the cockpit into a complicated emergency.
Zeamer remained responsible for the aircraft.
He had to maneuver against fighters while preventing the bomber from losing altitude or control.
Every control input now required effort from a wounded body.
The pain was not the only problem.
Blood loss reduces strength.
Then concentration.
Then consciousness.
A pilot can tolerate pain and still become physically incapable of flying if circulation fails.
Zeamer continued.
The Aircraft Was Still on the Mission Track
This point cannot be emphasized enough.
The easiest way to reduce fighter accuracy would have been radical evasive maneuvering.
The cameras still needed their run.
Zeamer held Old 666 where the intelligence mission required it for as long as necessary.
The fighters recognized the predictable path and attacked repeatedly.
The B-17 continued photographing Japanese territory while its own cockpit was being torn apart.
The photographs being created below the floor would later look calm.
Terrain does not show the violence occurring around the camera aircraft.
A sharp reconnaissance frame can preserve coastline and airfields perfectly while the men producing it are fighting for their lives.
This is one of the strangest contrasts in aerial warfare.
The evidence can look peaceful.
The process was anything but peaceful.
The Crew's Extra Guns Began Proving Their Value
Old 666 had been armed according to experience rather than optimism.
Those weapons now created overlapping defensive zones around a single aircraft that otherwise would have been dangerously isolated.