“Toulouse Nuts” : Flying the Collings Foundation P-51 Mustang

To celebrate Memorial Day last Monday, I was fortunate enough to fly an iconic World War II warbird, the P-51D Mustang owned by the Collings Foundation. The Foundation’s nation-wide Wings of Freedom tour and its airplanes had landed at Livermore Municipal Airport, in California, for a three-day stay before moving on.

Photo: Collings Foundation

The experience was not only unforgettable, but very meaningful for me. As a student of aviation history, particularly in the World War II time-frame, going up in a P-51 was something I always wanted to do: more accurately, something I had to do!
What finally moved me to act was a quote by the author Mark Twain which I recently heard and (loosely) paraphrase here: You will regret most the things in life you did not do, not the things you did.

Many are the accounts of young farm boys in middle America scrounging a quarter and going up for the first time in the rickety biplanes of traveling “barnstormers” back in the mid-nineteen-thirties. For many of those boys, that experience led ultimately to flight training in the Army Air Force during the prelude to war. This adventure of mine felt somewhat like my own, personal, modern-day version of the barnstormer ride, but more costly and with no future flight training likely!

That’s me (bluejeans) with the father of my young pilot (he also flies)

The P-51 Mustang was the greatest fighter plane in World War II, bar-none. For that, and for so many other reasons, it is the one airplane I wanted to fly and experience. It is often claimed that the P-51 won the war for us. Most certainly, without its introduction to combat in 1943, many more B-17 and B-24 bomber crews would have lost their lives to enemy fighters which flew up to intercept the “heavies” on their bomb runs over hostile territory. The P-51 was the first fighter with the fuel-range capable of escorting our bombers all the way to their targets in Germany and back to their bases in England and Italy.

P-51s also proved their air superiority over the best the Germans had to offer. When enemy fighters came up to attack our bombers, the P-51s excelled in the oft-times, close-quarter aerial dogfights with their German Me 109 and Focke-Wulf 190 counterparts. The Mustang quickly won the hearts and gratitude of the brave men who flew her and survived the war along with their indelible memories of combat. As for the bomber crews who were such vulnerable targets, they universally referred to the P-51 escorts as their “little friends.”

Heading out to the taxi-way prior to take-off

Toulouse Nuts is a rare variant of the Mustang which features not merely a seat behind the pilot, but a second full set of instrumentation and controls like the pilot’s. For a good portion of my half-hour flight, I was in control of the airplane from my rear seat vantage point. For the rest of the flight, my young pilot performed some textbook aerobatics per my request: wingovers, aileron rolls, etc. He began by pointing the nose of the airplane up a bit and then partially rolling the airplane into a dive while 90 degrees to the horizon. After a few warm-ups (for my benefit), we nosed up, “came over the top” while rolling into a fully inverted flying position while diving and leveling out. That uneasy feeling one gets when a Southwest Airlines 737 banks into a steep turn with “wing way down” is but prelude to the feeling of doing wingovers in a P-51! I now have some inkling of what combat maneuvers in a life and death dogfight with a German Me 109 must have felt like to our pilots.

Steep climb and sharp bank at take-off (runway in the background)

I have read many memoirs of World War II aces who survived, thanks to luck and skill, to tell their stories. In recent years, much of my time and library acquisitions have been devoted to learning more about the histories of the men and machines who defeated Hitler’s Luftwaffe. As I mentioned in an earlier blog post, I cannot conceive of more daring and dangerous, yet adventurous endeavors than those experienced by the bomber and fighter crews of World War II. A quote from one of the best, Clarence “Bud” Anderson, a triple Mustang ace (16.25 air victories) who flew 116 combat missions out of England, is embedded in my consciousness:

Staying alive was no simple thing in the skies over Europe in the spring of 1944. A lot of men couldn’t. It was a bad thing to dwell on if you were a fighter pilot, and so we told ourselves we were dead men and lived for the moment with no thought of the future at all. It wasn’t too difficult. Lots of us had no future and everyone knew it.

I wanted to experience, as best I could, what it must have felt like to ride out to the flight-line in a far-away place on a cold, early dawn, to greet your crew-chief who got up even earlier to prepare your plane, and then to clamber into the cockpit for yet another mission over Germany. Your crew chief helps you strap-in and briefs you on the status of your airplane. You look at him and he looks at you, briefly, each realizing that you might not come back from today’s mission. Then you close the canopy to form an eerie silence, and your crew-chief slides off the wing to the ground – perhaps the last human you will see…at least for several hours. At your touch of the starter, the big four-bladed propeller slowly turns, and turns some more, and turns some more, and finally the powerful, twelve-cylinder Rolls-Royce/Packard Merlin engine coughs and belches its way to life, shaking the cockpit in the process. In a matter of seconds, the big Merlin engine settles into a smooth, steady cadence and you are set to face the great unknowns that await all pilots on such missions.

To capture some essence of that scenario in a real P-51 Mustang is what drove me to do what I did last Monday. What better way to pay tribute to the memory of our flyers than to take to the skies over Livermore in a vintage airplane on an absolutely gorgeous, cloud-free day like Monday, May 28, 2018. It was everything I had hoped it would be, and more. I will never forget the experience.

I was supposed to fly at 11:00 am on Monday. I did not get airborne until 3:00 that afternoon. A problem with the fuel pressure gauge surfaced on the flight before mine. As Linda and I arrived at the field, I saw the airplane head off to the taxi-way for the 10:00 flight scheduled before mine. In less than two minutes, my heart fell as I saw the airplane taxi back to its parking position on the apron. I knew there must be some problem. Soon, pilot and passenger were out of the plane and the engine covers were off the nose of the airplane. The pilot and several others were all over the front portion of the plane. The previous flyer, an older fellow like me named John, stood around for at least three hours as did Linda and I. He indicated he would wait it out because, for him, the experience was “now or never.” By the time the crew had the airplane ready to go after heroic efforts on their part, John had given up, cancelled at the desk, and gone. The flight crew told me, “You are next-up,” to which I retorted, “Let’s go, then!” The fellow who flew after me was also older – at least my age. I sense that there are many older guys like me who feel the significance surrounding this airplane and its historic role while confronting the approaching decision point for themselves: to go do it or not.

I had written an earlier post on the Collings Foundation and their older P-51C, Betty Jane. She is currently undergoing a ground-up restoration/overhaul. The tour introduction of their newly restored P-51D Toulouse Nuts occurred in 2016. Technically, she is known as a TF-51D, being a rare, two seat, dual-control airplane. “T” for trainer and “F” for fighter, I believe, is the way it works. The “P” in P-51 is an outmoded reference for “pursuit,” nomenclature which was commonly used early in World War II and prior. Toulouse Nuts represents the “D” evolution of the airplane’s design, its ultimate configuration during the war. For pilots and would-be flyers/passengers like me, the bubble canopy of the “D” offers a superior visual experience compared to the birdcage structure of the earlier “C” models like Betty Jane.

An amazing, unforgettable experience!

Toulouse Nuts is one of three original TF-51Ds remaining in the world. She is painted in her original markings of the West Virginia Air Guard, 167th fighter squadron.

B-24 Liberator Bomber, Witchcraft – the last one flying of over 18,000 built!

The Sky Warriors: In Memoriam

Monday, May 27, is Memorial Day, a time to reflect on those living and dead who have served our country. Our debt of gratitude is great to all of them. I am particularly intrigued by those who took to the skies in the Second World War; that period has always fascinated me. As I write this, I am currently reminded of the intrepid sky warriors of that war by the unusual sounds heard overhead the last few days, the unmistakable heavy drone of multi-engine aircraft periodically flying over the house. When not engaged in something pressing, I more often than not drop what I am doing and run out the front or patio door to gawk once more at what I know to be the source – one of the iconic heavy bombers from the 1940’s. I have been doing this drill for some years, now.


The Collings Foundation is back in town for several days with it’s “Wings of Freedom” tour, part of an annual pilgrimage across the country. The tour features one of the few flyable examples left in the world of both the mighty B-17 Flying Fortress and the once ubiquitous B-24 Liberator. It is difficult to resist the urge to run outside to see one of these legendary “warbirds” lumbering fairly low over the neighborhood on early approach to the runway at nearby Moffett Field. The foundation, true to its mission, keeps these icons flying (no small task) by touring the country and charging a nominal admission to walk through the aircraft or $400 for a brief ride in one of them.

 Linda and I made the short trip to Moffett Field a few years ago to see these planes up-close and personal. We chose a weekday, early in the morning when there were few other people out and about other than the daily commute. We were rewarded with a leisurely and thought-provoking, self-guided experience clambering around within the bowels of each of these legendary airplanes. Unlike so many typical “airshow experiences” where the sheer press of people in line behind you necessitates a hurried look before quickly moving on, we were able to linger in the bellies of these beasts and truly visualize, to the limited extent possible, what those intrepid flyers must have felt each and every time they clambered aboard their aircraft for yet another dangerous bombing mission.


For many, it was to be their last. Death came quickly in the skies, usually in the form of German fighter aircraft in the skies over Europe or shrapnel from the deadly flak-shell explosions which enveloped these aircraft as they lumbered to and from their targets. Many a crew was lost when a tail or wing was sheared off by shrapnel. In such a situation, the plane quickly spun wildly out of control as it plunged to earth literally pinning the crew within its confines and rendering their parachutes useless.

 What stories they tell, those who survived the overall experience! I recall quite vividly one evening in the mid-1950’s when a very good friend of my father came one evening to visit. He, like dad, was employed at United Airlines and was working his way up the ladder. They had enrolled together in a calculus night class at San Mateo Junior College some years prior. He happened to be in San Francisco on business and was invited to the house for dinner that evening. At my parent’s urging, he recounted his war experiences during dinner. He was flying a B-24 Liberator on a critical and quite famous bombing mission over German territory. Their target was the German oil supply and the Ploesti oil fields.

 His aircraft was shot down by flak as I recall. He parachuted safely down only to be captured by the Germans and held for a considerable period of time. I cannot recall whether he escaped from the prison camp or was ultimately set free after the war. I was but a young teenager at the time of his visit, but I listened intently to his story and asked some questions about his experiences. As interested as I was, it seemed to me at the time that the Second World War was already ancient history, yet what I was hearing had happened a mere ten years prior – oh, the time-warp of youth. Would that I could talk to him today! He later worked his way up the ranks at United Airlines and became a vice-president stationed in Chicago; alas, we rarely saw him after that.


Linda and I had the good fortune to meet a volunteer at Moffett Field who, like my dad’s good friend, had plenty of war stories to relate to a gathering throng beneath a wing of the Collings B-24J, Witchcraft, the only one still flying of the original 6,687 J-type aircraft built by Consolidated. He was a bombardier aboard a similar Liberator during the war. You can bet that the appreciative crowd kept him very engaged for the hour-plus we spent listening…and that is how it should be! These flyers, their stories, and their lessons-learned (also known as wisdom and a mature world-view) should be heard, appreciated, and their experiences recorded for future generations. And – just as important – future generations should be encouraged by parents, teachers, and mentors to read these histories and reflect on what such veterans went through. Let us not forget the soldiers and sailors as well; they have their own stories to tell.


I just heard in the news that the final reunion of the Doolittle flyers has been held this year. Only three or four remain alive and able to travel. The daring early raids on Tokyo were conducted by Jimmy Doolittle and his men flying medium-range B-25 bombers from the deck of an aircraft carrier in April, 1942 – an unheard-of feat. Although these brave flyers are almost all gone, their stories will live on. Let us not forget such momentous history. 

Have a relaxing and meaningful Memorial Day weekend!

 As a postscript for those interested, Linda has alerted me to a currently best-selling book titled Unbroken, the story of Louis Zamperini who went down in a B-24 Liberator over the Pacific and was held prisoner by the Japanese. Linda has read it and raved about it as has everyone else, apparently. The aviation aspect is only a portion of the total story of this amazing man who still lives in Southern California. So many stories surface in that one life that it is hard to believe, even though they are verified and well documented. I plan to read it.

Memphis Belle Crew]

For you aviation fans and for anyone with an interest in the history, there is a brief documentary (in color) made by the government during the war about the famous B-17,  Memphis Belle – not to be confused with the Hollywood movie of the same name. This one is actual footage filmed in color during her crew’s last (and successful) bombing mission over Germany. Twenty-five such missions got you a ticket home from the war, and this is the documentary story of the B-17 that brought her crew safely back each time. Ride along on that last mission, and you will begin to understand what it was like! I highly recommend it. If you have difficulty finding this, let me know by leaving a reply (comment). I can tell you where I ordered my DVD copy.

 As always, I have no connection with any product which I endorse (other than my own book). My recommendations are based strictly on merit for the benefit of you, the readers.