 One American airplane factory, one of many, one bomber, thousands on the way, an angel of death, death to those who market free people, death to those who tell the world they are out to wreck the American democratic system. Hundreds here, thousands, tens of thousands on the way, test flight, every part tested, every piece of metal tested, every bolt, rivet and welded seam tested under the pressure of combat condition. Off the ground now for the first time as a complete fighting unit. Power, power to travel far, jump her bombs in return. Power to say, I can out fly and out fight, any pursuit ship now fighting over Europe. I am the strength of the people of the free world in size. Illuminum alloy, light and strong. Steel, copper, brass, a dozen other metals put together like a fine rock. Wings made strong to hold her high in the air while she delivers. Each wing built to take all the pounding a super powered motor can give it. And here is the fire back where the bomber begins to grow. Born in fire, to fight fire, with fire. She's going to have the guts, stamina, to fight and deliver death. A belly full of it to those who are asking for it. Made of metals tempered and strong, woven together, strong. American mass production, American know-how, hands with know-how, minds with American know-how. These workers, these riveters, welders, drillers, all these craftsmen have pride. A genuine pride in their share, their participation in the Titanic job we call national defense production. More than 25,000 for each ship. Parts stacked up, waiting to be assembled and woven into a living destroyer traveling the sky. We are taking these parts, weaving them into a thing that breathes and lives. Breathes with the spirit of America. The spirit that says, don't tread on me. Stand heavy toil and major stand shock and storm and heavy travel. Ready to flank and outflank the enemy. Packing enough power to climb over the highest anti-aircraft barrage. Everything under control. From hundreds of sub-assemblies and scores of major assemblies, these precision-built sections roll into final assembly. In night, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. Bodies, bones and wings roll and join into the form of a finished, breathing bomber. Bombers, thousands in the air now, tens of thousands on the way. Raw naked power. A Niagara of horse mouth. John Henry on one wing, Paul Bunyan on the other. Miles of wires link the nerve centers of the ship. The giant wing spar protects the cables from enemy gunfire. And she packs guns. So many guns the army won't let us tell about. A flying arsonist. She's the toughest fight in the ship of her size in the air. Here is America's strong hearted. Key, aware, alive. This wing seems to say, you can count on me, black man. America flies into the dawn. Bombers for a new day.