Target Tokyo: Jimmy Doolittle and the Raid That Avenged Pearl Harbor by James M. Scott

larger, four-engine B-17 Flying Fortress. The B-25’s 3,500-pound payload likewise could not compete with the ten tons that Boeing’s B-29 Superfortress would deliver later in the war. But the Mitchell bomber was chosen for the Tokyo raid for one reason—its sixty-seven-foot wingspan would clear the superstructure of an aircraft carrier. The size and versatility that made the B-25 a natural fit for Doolittle’s mission would propel the rugged bomber into combat in every major theater of the war, from Europe and North Africa to the remote islands of the Pacific. Engineers along the way would improve the bomber’s firepower and armor, increase the fuel capacity, and add torpedo and wing bomb racks, allowing this aerial workhorse to tackle missions ranging from reconnaissance to antisubmarine patrols.
    Another feature that made the B-25 an optimal plane for Doolittle’s mission was that it required a small crew of just five airmen to operate, half of those needed to fly a B-17. The pilot and copilot sat shoulder to shoulder in the tight cockpit, while the navigator occupied a tiny compartment just behind the flight deck. The bombardier reached the bubbled nose via a crawlway beneath the navigator’s compartment. A similar passage above the bomb bay connected the fore and aft sections where the gunner sat. The austere aircraft offered few frills, though regulations at least allowed airmen to smoke above one thousand feet. “The B-26 was a Lincoln Town Car,” joked one former navigator. “The B-25 was a Model-A Ford.” What the Mitchell bomber lacked in comfort, it made upfor in ease of flying, a fact aircrews loved. “It is so much more than an inanimate mass of material, intricately geared and wired and riveted into a tight package,” recalled Ted Lawson, one of the mission’s pilots. “It’s a good, trustworthy friend.”
    To help modify the B-25s for the mission, Doolittle turned to the engineers at Ohio’s Wright Field, the main experimental and development center for the U.S. Army Air Forces. Opened in 1927 on more than five thousand acres near Dayton, Wright Field held a special significance for Doolittle, who performed in the aerial circus before fifteen thousand awed spectators at the center’s dedication that October. Wright Field had since developed into one of the world’s top aeronautical research hubs, with a staggering $150 million in laboratories and scientific equipment. Engineers labored each day in various workshops, wind tunnels, and pressure chambers designed to simulate high altitudes and subzero temperatures. Others tested new parachutes and body armor and pushed airplanes to the breaking point to determine structural strength. A reporter with the Milwaukee Sentinel described it all best: “Wright Field is the place where miracles are performed so that American airmen can kill their enemies and stay alive themselves.”
    Those miracle workers drew up the necessary plans as Doolittle hurried to round up the planes. The size of the Hornet ’s flight deck would limit how many bombers he could take on the mission, but until Captain Duncan could put a few B-25s aboard a flattop to conduct test trials, Doolittle would not have a precise number. Regardless, he did not have time to wait. “It is requested that one B-25B airplane be made available to the Mid-Continent Airlines at Minneapolis, Minnesota on January 23, 1942, or at the earliest possible moment thereafter,” Doolittle wrote to the chief of the air staff. “It is further requested that 17 more B-25B’s be diverted to the Mid-Continent Airlines for alteration as required.” Doolittle upped his request a week later to twenty-four planes, a move designed to guarantee that he would have at least eighteen bombers in excellent shape for the mission. Orders called for the bombers to arrive on a staggered schedule every four days throughout the first half of February.
    The most critical modification centered on fuel. The B-25 boasted two