 June 1948, Berlin. Ever since the end of the war, three years before, tension had been increasing between the Allied military government and the Soviet bosses of East Berlin. The Cold War was becoming war. Two and a half million people, more than half of Berlin's population, lived in the American, British and French zones. But the whole city was surrounded by the Soviet zone of Germany. Supplying the two and a half million people of the Western sectors was a system of rails, canals and roads. Suddenly, the Soviet military government in Berlin clamped down a land blockade of the Allied sectors of the city. The suspension of all traffic successfully blocked all surface access to the city. The Soviets claimed that technical difficulties caused the suffrage. The truth was that they were trying to force the Western Allies to surrender their position in Berlin. And the weapon was hunger. The occupation personnel of the Western nations, both military and civilian, along with the two and a half million of the German population, were threatened with starvation. What were they all going to do for food and fuel? With all the arteries into the city closed, Berlin was paralyzed. With the fuel supply cut off, there wasn't much electricity. Nearly all of the lights went out. The Allies made an important decision to hold Berlin. In late June 1948, General Curtis LeMay, commanding general of the U.S. Air Forces in Europe, started the airlift. Our all-out effort began on the 28th when we airlifted about 300 tons. From airfields like Rhein-Main near Frankfurt, we flew the air corridors through the Soviet zone to Tempelhof Field in Berlin. The airlift was our first important use of air power as an instrument of national policy, according to Secretary of the Air Force Simington and General Vandenberg, Chief of Staff. General Lucius Clay, our European Commander-in-Chief, joined in accepting the challenge. The call went out for cargo aircraft from all parts of the world. From the Caribbean, from Texas, Alaska, Hawaii, Panama, troop carrier squadrons sent C-54s. And before long, mats was sending them too. In the States, Westover was our jumping-off place for airlift planes preparing to span the Atlantic. The combined airlift task force headquarters was established at Weesbottom. The entire operation was now in business in a big way. Army, Navy and Air Force, working together gave an inspiring example of joint action. And we mustn't forget that the British and the French gave much help. Headed by General William Tunner, who had been in charge of the aerial supply missions over the hump in Asia during World War II, the airlift task force was ready for a long haul. Pouring supplies into Berlin and bringing out manufactured goods. Rhein-Main was the chief air gateway of the corridor to Berlin. The Army Transportation Corps moved supplies in from ports and railheads in 10-ton trailers, about the cargo capacity of a C-54. Coal from the Ruhr, flour from our Midwest, sugar from Cuba, coffee from Brazil, butter and milk from Denmark, and many other supplies from many other places. Berlin's minimum daily requirement was about 4,500 tons of supplies. For several months in 1949, our deliveries averaged more than 7,500 tons a day. The Air Force assigned more than 300 airplanes and more than 20,000 men to the airlift, and Britain made a large contribution of both aircraft and personnel. It was an operation without precedent and a severe test of precision flying, of logistics, maintenance, communications and weather service. Some of us had bombed Berlin, but now we were trying to keep the same city alive. It meant that we had to get more from each airplane and from each man than ever before. Takeoffs with full loads were three minutes apart. The air corridor to Berlin was narrow and dangerous. With 40 to 50 airplanes going to it simultaneously, they had to be accurately spaced. And until the late stages of the airlift, they were flown at five different levels, the levels being 500 feet apart. This called for extremely precise air traffic control. Here the position of each aircraft in the constant stream of C-54s was flooded and re-plotted. And every three minutes there was a landing at Tempelhof, the Berlin Air Terminus. Each aircraft in Operation Bittles flew three round trips every day to Tempelhof, or to the other airfields in the Allied sector. At the end of the line, volunteer crews of this place persons were always on hand to unload our aircraft. And it took an army of them. At the height of the airlift, the control tower at Tempelhof handled more than 400 landings and takeoffs every day. Seven days a week, around the clock and regardless of weather. Operation Bittles really gave us in 15 months as much experience in air transport as we ordinarily get in 10 years. When bad weather arrived in the fall, everyone was put to the supreme test. Rain and heavy fog day after day. The communists expected the airlift would be broken, but it wasn't. We kept right on. Army Airways communication system operated a network that fed information to ground control approach at Tempelhof. Rotating GCA antennae tied air and ground together. GCA operators, at radarscopes 24 hours a day, talked us down at the rate of a landing every three minutes. Baker George II, this is the final controller. Remain on receive for the remainder of this transmission. Maintain your present elevation and continue Vector 3-1-5. You're almost at the glide path. Begin your rate of descent at 500 feet per minute. By starting down the glide path, a rated descent is good. Asmuth is gone. Very nice flying indeed. Maintain your heading on course, on the glide path. Very good. Now over the end of the runway, Asmuth and elevation both perfect. Touchdown in four seconds. We used a good many C-47s. But for an operation on this scale, they were too small and too slow. So the C-54s took over. We soon began setting records, and then we broke them as fast as we made them. Coal was vitally important. We had to fly it in if there was going to be any heat or light or power in West Berlin. The coal came from the roar and was sacked in war surfless duffel bags. We saw to it that every bomb was put to good use. Berlin was saved because the airlift kept the fires burning, kept wheels turning, kept the ovens going. Not long before, we had been delivering bombs to compel peace. Now we were delivering bread to maintain that peace. The airlift cargoes kept the city alive. Before Operation Vittles, Berlin was one of the places where children cringed in terror at the roar of airplanes overhead. The airlift planes taught them they need cringe no more. In 15 months, the airlift brought in two and a quarter million tons of supplies. Light sustaining necessities. The greatest feat in transportation history. Achieved by the RAF, the United States Army, Navy, and Air Force. Meanwhile, in this building at Fort Worth, Texas, another great Air Force achievement of a different kind was taking shape. The B-36, the first genuine intercontinental bomber. No aircraft had ever had a wing spread like this. 230 feet. That's equal to a distance from home plate in Yankee Stadium to a point over 100 feet beyond the second base. No bomber ever had such tremendous fuselage space. From nose to tail and from wall to wall, the equal of 10 good-sized living rooms. The B-36 was first conceived in 1941. And by 1946, she was ready for her first test flight. Big wasn't she. Her main function was to carry bombs. But she went up well-armed with eight gun turrets, each mounting two 20-millimeter cannon that could fire explosive shells as well as armor-piercing projectiles. That was more and better armament than any other bomber ever had. Being one of the most complicated engines of war ever built, the B-36 needed a crew of 16 specialists. Every one of them was a man of great experience and skill. And they worked together for long periods and achieved a high degree of teamwork. It was an honor to be picked as a member of a B-36 crew. And the man who flew the big bomber came to admire her. Talk about power. In the late stages of development, the B-36 had six piston engines of 3,800 horsepower each and four jet engines, each capable of 5,200 pounds of thrust at takeoff. The big bomber had a much greater carrying capacity than any other aircraft so far produced. There was room in the four big bomb bays for 100, 500-pound bombs. Or when tremendously big ones were needed, the cargo could be two bombs, each weighing 21 tons. With its fuel load of 21,000 gallons, the B-36 had tremendous range, 10,000 miles without refueling, and a combat radius of more than 4,000 miles. Even at great altitude and at more than 400 miles an hour, the B-36 was a steady flying platform, a stable and accurate bomber. Over the target. With its speed, armament, and high altitude capability, the B-36 became the strategic air command's Sunday punch. It gave the Air Force one of its best means of winning friends and influencing people. Largely because of this aircraft, the strategic air command was the first military organization in history that could assault the heart of a remote enemy country from stateside places within hours after the outbreak of a war. The B-36 proved to be a great airplane, and there was no question as to where it belonged, right where it was, in the United States Air Force.