World War II was full of terrifying moments, but the story of the B-17 nicknamed Old 666 is just on another level. Honestly, if you saw this in a movie, you'd probably roll your eyes and say it’s too over the top. But it happened. On June 16, 1943, a single, heavily modified bomber took on a swarm of Japanese fighters over the Solomon Islands and somehow lived to tell the tale.
It wasn't a standard plane. Not even close.
The crew, led by Captain Jay Zeamer and bombardier Joseph Sarnoski, were basically a group of misfits. They didn't have a permanent plane of their own for a while, so they took a beat-up, battle-scarred B-17E—tail number 41-2666—that other crews avoided like the plague. It was sitting in the "boneyard" at Port Moresby, essentially a parts donor. They fixed it up. But they didn't just repair it; they turned it into a flying fortress that actually deserved the name.
Why Old 666 Was a Total Beast
Most B-17s at the time carried about 10 machine guns. Zeamer and his crew thought that was rookie numbers. They scrounged for extra .50-caliber machine guns wherever they could find them. They ended up mounting 19 guns on that airframe.
The biggest change? The nose.
Standard B-17Es had a single, flexible .30-caliber gun in the nose. That’s basically a pea-shooter when a Zero is screaming toward you at 300 miles per hour. Zeamer’s crew replaced it with a fixed .50-caliber gun that the pilot could fire using a trigger on the control yoke. This gave the pilot—not just the gunners—offensive capability. They also added twin-mount guns in the waist and doubled up the nose guns for Sarnoski.
They were preparing for a solo mission. Usually, bombers flew in tight formations for mutual protection. But for the mapping mission they were assigned over Buka and Bougainville, they were going to be all alone. No escort. No formation. Just them.
The Mission That Should Have Been Impossible
The crew volunteered for a high-altitude mapping mission. They needed clear photos of the Japanese airfields. To get those photos, the plane had to fly a perfectly straight, steady line for several minutes. In combat, flying straight and level is a death sentence. It makes you an easy target for anti-aircraft fire and interceptors.
Just as they were finishing the mapping run, about 17 Japanese fighters—mostly Zeros and some Twin-engine Dinahs—jumped them.
The fight lasted about 45 minutes. That is an eternity in aerial combat. Most dogfights are over in seconds. This was a grueling, bloody marathon at 25,000 feet. The Japanese pilots realized quickly that this B-17 was different. Usually, they attacked from the front because the nose was the "blind spot" with the weakest firepower.
When they tried that on Old 666, they flew right into a wall of .50-caliber lead.
Sarnoski, the bombardier, was mortally wounded early in the fight by a 20mm cannon shell that exploded in the nose. Despite his injuries, he crawled back to his guns. He managed to knock down a Japanese fighter that was pressing an attack before he finally collapsed and died at his station. He was later awarded the Medal of Honor.
Blood, Bullets, and a Broken Plane
Zeamer was hit too. Hard.
His legs were shattered by 20mm shell fragments. He was bleeding out, drifting in and out of consciousness, but he refused to let go of the controls. He knew that if he dipped a wing or lost focus, the gunners wouldn't have a stable platform to shoot from.
The plane was a wreck.
The hydraulic system was shot. The oxygen system was destroyed. The instruments were smashed. The rudder cables were frayed. Every single person on that crew, except for one, ended up wounded. The interior of the plane was literally slick with blood and covered in empty brass casings.
Somehow, the gunners kept firing. They claimed five confirmed kills, though in the chaos of a 17-on-1 fight, it’s hard to be precise. What matters is that they broke the spirit of the interceptors. The Japanese fighters eventually ran low on fuel and ammunition, or simply gave up on the "indestructible" bomber, and peeled away.
The Long Flight Home
Landing a plane with no hydraulics and a pilot who is barely conscious is a nightmare. Zeamer didn't have brakes. He didn't have flaps.
They flew back toward Dobodura, a grueling ride over the mountains of New Guinea. The co-pilot, J.T. Britton, took over most of the flying while the crew tried to keep Zeamer and the other wounded men alive. When they finally touched down, they had to ground-loop the plane—basically a controlled crash on the runway—to get it to stop since the brakes were gone.
When the ground crews counted the holes, they stopped at about 200. Some sources say it was more, but after a certain point, the number doesn't even matter. The plane was "Swiss cheese." It was a miracle the tail hadn't fallen off or the wings hadn't folded.
Why This Story is Often Misunderstood
People often get confused about why this mission was so important. It wasn't just a random scrap. The photos they took were used to plan the invasion of Bougainville. Without those maps, the Allied forces would have been flying blind into a heavily fortified island.
Also, many people assume the "666" in the tail number was a bad omen. For this crew, it was the opposite. They embraced the number. They weren't superstitious; they were practical. They took the "cursed" plane because they were the only ones willing to put in the sweat equity to make it the most dangerous aircraft in the Pacific theater.
Jay Zeamer and Joseph Sarnoski both received the Medal of Honor for this single mission. It remains the most highly decorated flight in the history of the U.S. Army Air Forces. Every other member of the crew received the Distinguished Service Cross.
Technical Reality Check: Was it Luck or Engineering?
You could argue it was luck, but that's a bit dismissive. The B-17 was notoriously tough. Its radial engines (Wright R-1820 Cyclones) could take incredible amounts of damage and keep turning. Unlike liquid-cooled engines, they didn't have a radiator that, if punctured, would cause the engine to seize in minutes.
But the real reason Old 666 survived was the firepower.
By having 19 guns, the crew eliminated the traditional "safe" angles of attack. Japanese pilots, who were used to the relatively light armament of early-war bombers, were caught off guard. They expected a gap in the defense, and instead, they found a literal wall of steel.
Actionable Insights for History Enthusiasts and Researchers
If you're looking to dig deeper into the story of the plane that fought back, don't just stick to the surface-level Wikipedia entries.
- Check the Missing Air Crew Reports (MACR): If you're a serious history buff, the National Archives holds the original debriefs. These are raw, unpolished, and show the confusion of the moment.
- Visit the National Museum of the Mighty Eighth Air Force: While they focus on the European theater, their archives on B-17 modifications are the gold standard for understanding how crews "up-gunned" their planes.
- Read "Hells Angels" by Jay A. Stout: It provides a brutal, realistic look at the B-17 crews in the Pacific, which was a very different war than the one fought over Germany.
- Study the 43rd Bomb Group: This was Zeamer's unit. They were known as "Ken's Men" and had a reputation for these kinds of "misfit" engineering projects.
The story of Old 666 is a reminder that in extreme situations, the "standard" way of doing things is usually the first thing that needs to go. Zeamer's crew didn't survive by following the manual; they survived by rewriting it with extra machine guns and a lot of grit.