Fifi the B-twenty-nine Superfortress pulled from a Navy bombing range and restored to fly again

Fifi, the Commemorative Air Force’s B-29 Superfortress, was pulled from the China Lake Naval Weapons Center in California’s Mojave Desert in 1971 — a bullet-riddled, sand-blasted hulk that a small team of volunteers decided to fly again. For forty years, she was the only airworthy B-29 in the world, a lone survivor from a fleet of nearly four thousand aircraft. Her story is one of relentless determination, mechanical ingenuity, and the belief that the sound of four Wright radial engines was worth whatever it cost to keep them turning.

How Did a B-29 End Up on a Navy Bombing Range?

The United States built 3,970 B-29 Superfortresses during World War II. They were the most complex, most expensive, and most technologically advanced piston-engine bombers ever produced. Pressurized crew compartments, remote-controlled gun turrets, and the General Electric central fire control system — which allowed a single gunner to aim multiple turret positions — made them revolutionary for their era.

By the late 1950s, the Air Force had no use for them. Most went to the smelters. A handful ended up at China Lake, where the Navy used them as targets for practice ordnance. When the Navy finished, the carcasses were left baking in the desert sun.

Who Rescued Fifi?

A small team from the Confederate Air Force (later renamed the Commemorative Air Force) drove out to China Lake looking for a B-29 they could bring back to life. These were not defense contractors with machine shops. They were enthusiasts — weekend warriors who loved old airplanes and had more determination than resources.

What they found was discouraging. The airframes had been sitting on the range for years. Bullet holes, shrapnel damage, sun-baked Plexiglas, and sand in everything. Packrats had colonized the fuselages. Every seal, gasket, and rubber fitting was dried out. Hydraulic lines were destroyed. Control cables were corroded. All four Wright R-3350 radial engines were seized solid.

But the Mojave Desert preserves as much as it destroys. There was no rust. The aluminum skins were intact. One airframe in particular — a B-29A that rolled off the Boeing line in Renton, Washington — was in better shape than the rest. They named her Fifi.

How Do You Restart Engines That Have Been Dead for Decades?

Each Wright R-3350 displaces 3,300 cubic inches across eighteen cylinders arranged in two rows of nine, producing over 2,000 horsepower when new. At China Lake, sand had infiltrated everything. Cylinder walls were pitted. Oil had congealed into something between tar and concrete. The turbochargers — critical on the B-29, which was designed for high-altitude operations — were corroded solid.

The team worked in the open desert with no hangar and summer temperatures pushing 120 degrees Fahrenheit. Their approach was methodical but brutal:

Pull each engine, clean it, replace what they could, rebuild what they couldn’t
Source parts from other derelict B-29s on the range
Fabricate components by hand
Scrounge from surplus dealers across the country

The Hamilton Standard propellers — four blades each — required complete disassembly. Hub mechanisms were full of desert grit. Dome seals needed replacement. Counterweight mechanisms had to be verified, because a propeller runaway on a B-29 is not an emergency — it’s a catastrophe.

What Made the Restoration So Difficult?

The B-29’s complexity went far beyond its engines. Flight control cables stretch over a hundred feet from cockpit to tail, and every cable, pulley, and surface had to be inspected for free movement. One seized pulley could turn a ferry flight into a disaster.

The fuel system is a maze of tanks, valves, crossfeed lines, and boost pumps spread across both wings and the center section. Every tank had to be cleaned and pressure-tested. Every fuel line checked for cracks. Every valve verified for proper seating. The airplane burns 100/130 octane avgas at better than 200 gallons per hour across four engines — a fuel leak is not an option.

The electrical system was the most complex of any World War II aircraft. Generators on each engine, voltage regulators, bus bars, circuit breakers, and hundreds of individual circuits controlling everything from the autopilot to the bomb bay doors — all of it degraded by years of desert heat.

The First Engine Start

After months of work, the engines were hung back on their mounts. Fuel was added. Oil was pumped through the system.

On a radial engine that has been dormant for years, the first start is an act of faith. The prop turns slowly, blade by blade, compressing air and fuel in eighteen cylinders that haven’t fired in decades. When combustion catches — one cylinder, then two, then a cascade — the entire airframe shakes. Blue smoke pours from the exhaust stacks as oil that settled in the lower cylinders burns off in great clouds.

They got all four running. Not perfectly. Not smoothly. But running.

How Did They Fly Her Out of the Desert?

The wingspan of a B-29 is 141 feet. Empty weight exceeds 70,000 pounds. Disassembly and trucking was one option. They chose another: fly her out.

The ferry flight from China Lake was conducted with a skeleton crew and minimum fuel. Cylinder head temperatures were monitored obsessively. Oil pressure was treated as sacred — any fluctuation meant an immediate diversion to the nearest flat ground.

Fifi made it.

Why Is Keeping a B-29 Flying So Hard?

Flying a restored B-29 is fundamentally different from maintaining a single-engine warbird. The R-3350 was the most powerful radial engine of the war — and the most problematic. It ran hot. The rear cylinders were notorious for overheating due to poor airflow deep inside the cowling. Exhaust valve failures were common. Cylinder cracking was a persistent threat.

Over the decades, Fifi consumed engines and money in equal measure. The Commemorative Air Force poured millions of dollars into the airplane. The supply of original Wright parts dwindled steadily while costs climbed every year.

In 2010, the CAF undertook a massive re-engining project, essentially rebuilding the entire powerplant installation. They incorporated modern materials — better exhaust valve metallurgy, improved cylinder construction — while keeping the engines externally identical to the wartime configuration. Engine cooling baffles were redesigned, cowl flaps rebuilt, and the oil system upgraded with improved filtering.

It worked. Fifi flies today, touring the country with the Commemorative Air Force at airshows and air tours from coast to coast. Rides are available to the public.

The Fragile Chain of Knowledge

The volunteers who keep Fifi airworthy — hundreds of people over the decades — are a breed apart. Airframe mechanics spend vacations pulling inspection panels. Engine specialists drive across the country to troubleshoot a single cylinder temperature anomaly. Pilots hold type ratings on an airplane that hasn’t been manufactured in over eighty years, with no simulator and no formal training program — just hours in the left seat with someone who learned from someone who learned from combat veterans.

That chain of knowledge thins every year. The pool of people who can listen to an R-3350 and hear what it’s telling them grows smaller. Efforts to document that expertise and train the next generation of Wright radial mechanics are as critical as any engine overhaul.

For forty years, Fifi was the only flying B-29 in the world — the sole survivor out of nearly four thousand built. Until Doc was restored and joined the tour circuit, Fifi carried that legacy alone. Every flight was a history lesson. Every takeoff was a minor miracle of maintenance and willpower.

Key Takeaways

Fifi was rescued in 1971 from the China Lake Naval Weapons Center, where she had been used as a Navy bombing target and left to deteriorate in the Mojave Desert
Volunteers flew her out after rebuilding all four seized Wright R-3350 engines in open desert conditions with improvised parts and sourced surplus components
The R-3350 is the most maintenance-intensive radial engine ever produced, with chronic overheating, exhaust valve failures, and cylinder cracking driving ongoing costs into the millions
A 2010 re-engining project incorporated modern metallurgy and improved cooling while preserving the wartime external appearance
For forty years, Fifi was the world’s only flying B-29 — a distinction she held alone until Doc’s restoration was completed