Virgil Falkner spent many harrowing hours stuffed into the cold, cramped ball turret fastened to the underside of his B-24 Liberator during World War II, manning machine guns to protect his aircraft against attack from below.
In his vulnerable position under the plane, he was without a parachute, and if the turret malfunctioned and could not be retracted into the fuselage before landing, the ball and its occupant were sacrificed.
Yet in retirement, instead of trying to forget his wartime experiences, Falkner has dedicated thousands of hours to restoring a similar plane at the Pima Air & Space Museum.
"His efforts were the major contribution to the restoration of that B-24," said museum docent Buzz Bertolino. "He spent almost five years of his life restoring that thing. Virgil kind of looked upon that as 'his.' Lord only knows how many hours he put in on restoration of that aircraft."
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And now it's part of Falkner's legacy. He died June 15, two months shy of his 90th birthday.
Falkner was born Aug. 25, 1921, in Jefferson Barracks, Mo., outside St. Louis. He was the second of six children of Wilburn, an auto mechanic, and Hilda, a homemaker. Falkner had an aptitude for working with his hands and planned to become a mechanic when he graduated from high school.
By then, World War II had started, and he enlisted in the Army Air Forces instead.
He served as a flight engineer and ball turret gunner in the South Pacific for the 394th Squadron of the 5th Bomb Group and flew 50 combat missions in a B-24.
Most crew members considered the ball turret the worst position on the aircraft. It was not for the faint of heart. Gunners spent hours curled into a metal sphere suspended under the bomber. The turret revolved 360 degrees, allowing the gunner to provide coverage from attackers below. Inside the cramped turret, the gunner placed his feet in the heel rests and crouched down into a fetal position. The gunner sat in the turret with his back and head against the rear wall, his hips at the bottom, and his legs held in midair by two footrests on the front wall. After strapping in, he closed and locked the turret door, and he was lowered out of the plane. The turret, its machine guns and gun sights were operated by a combination of foot pedals, hand cranks, handles, pulleys and cables. Given the B-24's low ground clearance, the turret was retracted into the body of the plane during takeoff and landing.
"There were a lot of people who could not fly that position," said Bertolino, also a former ball gunner. "When you were in the ball, you had no sensation of being attached to the aircraft. It was kind of like you're just flying through space and that thing rotates 360 degrees and the guns point straight down, and it would be really easy to get disoriented."
After the war, Falkner rarely discussed his military service with his family, but he did keep typewritten accounts of his experiences.
"The really scary part of the missions came when the searchlights found our aircraft and zeroed in on us," he wrote in one account. "I saw the inside of my turret clearer than in broad daylight."
In another reminiscence, he wrote: "On preflight the next morning (after a nighttime mission), we were surprised at the condition of our plane, as the wing leading edges were full of holes, and on top of the wing outboard of the No. 1 engine we found a large hole in the main wing spar, and embedded in it was a piece of shrapnel from an aerial bomb."
For his service, Falkner was awarded numerous wartime decorations, including the Air Medal with nine oak leaf clusters and seven battle stars.
It was while stationed in Texas in 1945 that Falkner met the love of his life, Lucille Burroughs, at a church picnic. They wed the same year and went on to have four children. They were married for 54 years, until Lucy's death in 2000.
After completing his WWII service, Falkner came to Tucson, re-enlisted at Davis-Monthan Air Force Base and served 20 more years, including stints in Korea and Vietnam, before retiring in 1965 as a chief master sergeant.
Early in his military career, while stationed in North Carolina, Falkner took pottery classes with his wife. Bases sponsored such classes to give airmen an outlet for stress and boredom that did not involve imbibing at the NCO clubs, said his daughter, Connie Pintozzi. Falkner so enjoyed the classes, he eventually taught them at other bases. Upon his discharge, Falkner opened a pottery shop near Davis-Monthan Air Force Base where he taught classes and made award-winning pieces of his own. In 1973, after seven years, he closed the shop and rounded out his career working for a decade as a heavy-equipment mechanic for the city of Tucson.
In retirement, he combined all of his interests refurbishing the Air & Space Museum's B-24 Liberator. He fabricated parts in his home garage; tracked down other parts from brokers across the country; and made and sold ceramic mugs to raise money for the restoration. Falkner spent up to nine hours a day in a hangar at the museum working on the plane. It went on display in 1991.
Falkner continued volunteering at the museum until a year before his death, serving as a docent, guiding tour groups and sharing his knowledge with thousands of other museum visitors.
"The B-24 brought me back safely from the war," Falkner said in a 1989 Pacific Flyer article. "The Liberator was the true 'queen of the skies.' It was more reliable than the B-17. I know because I've crewed on both."
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This feature chronicles the lives of recently deceased Tucsonans. Some were well-known across the community. Others had an impact on a smaller sphere of friends, family and acquaintances. Many of these people led interesting - and sometimes extraordinary - lives with little or no fanfare. Now you'll hear their stories.
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Did you know Virgil Falkner? Add your remembrance to this article online at azstarnet.com/lifestories
Did you know
The Consolidated B-24J at the Pima Air & Space Museum is one of 18,482 Liberators built during World War II, making it the most-produced American aircraft of the war. The "J" model was the most-produced version of the B-24, with a total of 6,678 built. The major Allied powers retired the B-24 after the war. Only one was still in service in the U.S. by 1951.
SOURCE: Pima Air & Space Museum
Bomber by the numbers
Technical specifications for the Consolidated B-24J Liberator
• Wingspan - 110 feet
• Length - 67 feet, 2 inches
• Height - 18 feet
• Weight - 65,000 pounds (loaded)
• Maximum speed - 290 mph
• Service ceiling - 28,000 feet
• Range - 2,100 miles
• Engines - 4 Pratt & Whitney R-1830-65 radials, 1,200 horsepower each
• Crew - 10
SOURCE: Pima Air & Space Museum
To suggest someone for Life Stories, contact reporter Kimberly Matas at kmatas@azstarnet.com or at 573-4191.
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