I'm not sure I can explain it, but there is something different about B-17s.
A long time ago, I was between jobs and to have something to do, I took some kind of bullshit literature course at Harvard's extension school. I was sitting in the classroom, waiting for the class to resume after the break, when two kids behind me started conversing in German. All of a sudden, I felt as though I was in a B-17. I wasn't flying it, I was sitting at the navigator's station behind the bombardier. It was cold and I could feel the rubber of an oxygen mask. The sensation only lasted a few seconds, but it felt real enough.
Most pilots dream of fighters and yes, I'd love to fly one. Time was that during the tour flights of B-17s, such as Aluminum Overcast, if you had a pilot's license, you could actually take the controls for a few minutes and log a few minutes of time in one. But our friends at the FAA took a dim view of that, for our own good, you unnerstan'.
I can't even dream of being able to afford to fly a B-17. But the tug is there, nonetheless.
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