A B-17 Flying Fortress over East Anglia at dawn

Martinez, California · 1938–1959

The Spirit of Martinez

What a Family Kept

A butcher’s son from a refinery town. A B-17 named for the city that taught him to fly. Twenty-eight mornings over Germany, three over Utrecht with flour in the bomb bay, and a footlocker that never agreed with itself about the count.

28

Combat missions

3

Food drops

208

Combat hours

9

Men in the crew

A family archive

The family kept the objects. The institutions kept the numbers. They do not always agree.

Frank Calicura learned to fly on a strip of dragged fill his eldest brother built beside the Southern Pacific tracks, four blocks from the house of seventeen children. The Army scored him a pilot on a stanine, not a logbook. In the last winter of the European war he took a Fortress named for Martinez over Chemnitz, Swinemünde, Hamburg, and Kiel — and then, with the same bomb bay, over a Dutch field marked with bedsheets.

This site is the book that came out of the footlocker: certificates, a cartoon woodpecker, nine wallets stamped for the Pacific, a jacket with one bomb too many, and a scrapbook Joyce numbered in pencil after he came home.

Horham, 1945

The crew, under the name

Nine airmen posed in two rows under the nose of a B-17 painted Spirit of Martinez
The crew of 44-6838, Spirit of Martinez, on the hardstand at Horham, 1945. The name is already on the nose — this is the ship after the Army caught up to what the men had decided to call her.Family collection

Crew no. 8

Nine names on the same paper

A B-17 flying low over Dutch farmland on a food drop

“We should be the honored ones, in having the people at home asking us to name it after our town.”

Frank Calicura to Ray Taylor · April 1945

3 mornings over Utrecht at the end of a tour that began at Chemnitz. The wallets had been stamped for the Pacific. The war these nine men had been fighting did not relocate.