A picture postcard mailed from San Antonio, Texas, on May 31, 1946, appears to be nothing more than a typical card sent from a young airman to his family member.
The Boeing B-29 Superfortress serial number #118335 featured on the front isn’t any ordinary old airplane—nor is the Army Air Corps base where the 18-year-old enlisted man was assigned duty.
Kelly Field, as it was called until 1948, first began in 1916 as a flight training center for Army Air Corps pilots and mechanics. By 1921, after WWI ended, the facility was still in operation, more as an advanced training site for skilled pilots rather than new recruits. At the end of WWII, 15,000 civilians were working at Kelly with 16,000 military personnel.
Kelly Field eventually became Kelly Air Force Base, and was a major maintenance and logistics center for the Air Force for many years. That all came to an end in 2001 when the base closed, and all buildings and property were turned over to San Antonio for economic and educational use.
Getting back to Pvt. John McLellan, the backside of his postcard card contains the following:
“Rt. John M. McLellan
45052566 – Sqdn SB 15
Flight 413 3543 RD
AAF – MTC
San Antonio
Texas 30 – May – 46
Hi Ronnie,
Want to swap me one of these for a house? We have today off, the skies are cloudy after the storm last night. So I don’t know if I can take more pictures. I’m sitting outside in a beach chair, keeping away from detail.
So long kid, Jack”
John McLellan sent the postcard to Mr. Ronald D. McLellan in Cleveland, Ohio. It wasn’t hard tracking down their family history. John was 19 years old, entering military service on April 30, 1946, and had only been at Kelly Field for 1 month when he sent the card. The Rt. in front of his name stood for ‘radio technician’, although his real rank was private. I’d say he was trying to impress his brother by foregoing using Pvt.
Donald was a younger brother, although a younger one was yet to come along. John, or Jack as he liked to call himself, did not make a career out of the military, staying in for only 4 years. By the time he retired in civilian life, John McLellan was a mathematics teacher and had a master’s degree in philosophy.
Ronald D. McLellan was 7 years younger than John, going on to be a successful investment banker and eventually the president of Northwest Region III Banking Institution. John and Ronald’s lives were ordinary, based on the biographical information I came across.
The B-29 on the front of McLellan’s postcard suffered far more than the base. Rather than give a brief synopsis like I did with the McLellans and Kelly Field, I’ve decided to include a full history on this airplane, as it was highly important to how WWII turned out. At the time the postcard photo was taken, the B-29 was still in its development stages.
The Boeing XB-29 41-18335 stands as an emblem of innovation, ambition, and technological leaps that characterized the feverish pace of aircraft development during World War II. As one of the original prototype aircraft for what would become the iconic B-29 Superfortress, 41-18335 occupies a pivotal chapter in American aviation history—a tale of aspiration, tragedy, and progress.
In the late 1930s, with tensions mounting on the world stage, the United States Army Air Corps recognized the need for a new long-range bomber capable of traversing vast distances, carrying heavy payloads, and delivering decisive blows to enemy forces. Boeing, already renowned for its work on the B-17 Flying Fortress, was awarded the contract to develop this next-generation heavy bomber.
The result was the Model 345, which evolved into the XB-29 project. The Army ordered three prototype aircraft, designated XB-29, with serial numbers 41-0002, 41-0003, and 41-18335—the latter being the third and final prototype constructed.
The XB-29 represented a radical step forward in bomber technology. Its pressurized cabin, remote-controlled gun turrets, and powerful Wright R-3350 Duplex-Cyclone engines promised performance never before seen in an American bomber. The aircraft featured a sleek, streamlined fuselage, high-aspect ratio wings, and a tricycle landing gear—a significant departure from the tail-dragger designs of previous eras.
41-18335, as the third XB-29, incorporated lessons learned from its predecessors. Each prototype was essential not only for flight testing but also for refining the myriad new technologies integrated into the design.
First flown in 1942, the XB-29 prototypes were subject to rigorous flight evaluations from Boeing Field in Seattle, Washington. Pilots and engineers meticulously examined aspects such as engine performance, cabin pressurization, stability, and the functionality of the remote turrets.
41-18335 quickly became an invaluable asset in these tests, pushing the boundaries of what was possible and revealing both the potential and perils of the new bomber. During early flights, crews faced numerous challenges, including issues with engine overheating—a problem that would persist into production models.
The legacy of 41-18335, however, is indelibly marked by tragedy. On February 18, 1943, during a test flight near the Boeing plant in Wichita, Kansas, the prototype suffered a catastrophic engine fire. The aircraft, piloted by Boeing’s chief test pilot Edmund T. Allen and carrying several Boeing engineers and Air Corps observers, was attempting to return to the field when the fire intensified.
Unable to control the blaze, the crew lost control, and the aircraft crashed into a meatpacking plant just north of the airfield. The crash killed all eleven on board and 20 workers on the ground, including a fireman, making it one of the deadliest accidents in early American aviation.
The loss of 41-18335 sent shockwaves through the aviation community and the Boeing organization. Not only did the tragedy claim the lives of some of the industry’s brightest engineers and test pilots, but it also highlighted the urgent need for further refinement of the B-29’s engines and safety systems.
Investigations traced the accident to a combination of engine overheating and inadequate fire suppression capabilities—issues that prompted a comprehensive redesign of the engine nacelles, fuel systems, and emergency procedures in subsequent B-29s.
Despite this setback, the XB-29 program pushed forward. Boeing, along with the Army Air Forces, redoubled their efforts, determined to honor the legacy of those lost by delivering a bomber that would ultimately change the course of the war.
The lessons learned from XB-29 41-18335 and its sister prototypes directly shaped the design and production of the B-29 Superfortress. The aircraft became the most advanced bomber of its era, featuring a fully pressurized fuselage, advanced targeting systems, and unmatched range and payload.
More than 3,900 B-29s would be produced before the war’s end, and the type would go on to play a decisive role in the Pacific theater, including the historic atomic bomb missions over Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The Superfortress continued to serve in the postwar years, setting records for range and altitude, and paving the way for the next generation of strategic bombers.
Today, the story of Boeing XB-29 41-18335 serves as a powerful reminder of the risks and sacrifices inherent in the pursuit of technological progress. Though the aircraft never saw combat, its contribution to aviation was profound. The lessons derived from its construction, testing, and tragic loss led directly to the improvements that made the B-29 a success.
Memorials and historical accounts continue to honor those who perished in the Wichita crash, and the site remains an important landmark in the annals of American engineering.
The Boeing XB-29 41-18335 was more than just an airplane; it was a crucible of innovation, courage, and learning. Its brief existence and untimely end were instrumental in forging the path toward victory in World War II and reshaping the future of military aviation. Through its legacy, the men and women who strove to build something extraordinary are remembered, and the spirit of their endeavor endures in the aircraft that have followed.
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