In the flak-filled sky over a German U-boat installation in occupied France on January 23, 1943, Memphis Belle was battling for her life. The U.S. Army Air Forces Boeing B-17F, destined to become the most famous Flying Fortress in history, had approached the submarine base at Lorient flying in formation, amid one of four groups of bombers that had targeted the sub pens.

Nearing their goal, Captain Robert K. Morgan and the crew of Memphis Belle had to penetrate a protective screen of German fighters, then thread their way through a thick blanket of anti-aircraft fire over the sub pens. Their basic mission was straightforward: Hold steady, with no evasive maneuvers to complicate the drop, and finally 'Bombs away. Then the bomber could head home to the Eighth Air Force base at Bassingbourn, England. But they still had to get past those fighters. Because ours was the smallest of the four groups, they concentrated on us, Morgan later remembered. For 22 minutes, they gave us hell.

At one point, a Focke Wulf Fw-190 attacked Belle head-on. One of us had to move, Morgan recalled. The usual procedure was to dive. I couldn't do this because another group was below us, so I pulled up straight. The shells meant for our nose banged into our tail.

Morgan was not immediately aware of what happened after that impromptu chandelle, but he thought that he had likely avoided disaster — until he heard a report from the tail gunner, Sergeant John Quinlan. Quinlan shouted over the mike: Chief, the tail is hit. The whole back end is shot off! It's blazing! The whole tail is leaving the plane! After what seemed an eternity, Quinlan's voice came through again: Chief, it's still on fire. There goes another piece! Another moment of silence, then the tail gunner came through again more calmly, Chief, the fire has gone out. Morgan said later, This was the sweetest music I ever heard.

The lanky pilot climbed out of his seat to see exactly what had happened. It looked like we had no tail at all, Morgan recalled. I got back in the cockpit and flew back to the base in two hours. It was tough flying, and tougher than that to set her down. The elevators were damaged so badly that the controls jammed. Somehow we managed to get down safely. In later years one of Belle's former crewmen summed up Morgan's flying skills: He's a damn good pilot. He always brought us back.

Of the 12,750 B-17s produced, Memphis Belle is famous for being the first Eighth Air Force bomber to complete 25 combat missions over occupied Europe without a crewman killed. In Belle's first three months of sorties from Bassingbourn, 80 percent of the bomb group she was part of was shot down. Morgan has a grim and graphic explanation of what those devastating losses meant to the surviving crews: Eighty percent losses means you have breakfast with 10 men and dinner with only two of them. During public appearances he is frequently asked, Weren't you scared to death? Scared is not the word, he generally answers. You had apprehension and concern. You were so busy. Each of the 10 guys had a job to do. We didn't have time to get scared. He often adds: If you want just one word on how we were able to go through the Hell over Europe 25 times and get back without a casualty, I'll give it to you. It is teamwork. Until you have been on a Flying Fortress in combat, you can't know how essential that is.

Belle participated in some of the most hazardous raids of the war, when the Luftwaffe still had a commanding fighter superiority and defenses of the Nazi regime were strong. She was bullet-ridden, flak-battered and on five separate occasions had one of her engines shot out. But she slugged it out with Messerschmitts and Focke Wulfs and absorbed their cannon fire without flinching. The longest period the storied plane was out of service was five days, when transportation difficulties delayed a wing replacement.

During her 25 combat missions, Belle's gunners were credited with destroying eight enemy fighters, but they also probably destroyed five others and damaged at least a dozen more. Her crew dropped more than 60 tons of bombs over France, Germany and Belgium, knocking out supply depots, railway yards, aircraft plants and an assortment of military bases. With amazing accuracy — thanks in no small part to the sterling work of bombardier Vincent B. Evans — Belle's crew blasted the Focke Wulf plant at Bremen, locks at St. Nazaire and Brest, docks and shipbuilding installations at Wilhelmshaven, railroad yards at Rouen, submarine pens and powerhouses at Lorient and aircraft factories at Antwerp.

Looking back on those days, Morgan remembered no easy missions, no milk runs. The secret to a successful B-17 mission, he decided, was tight formations — so tight that the wings often nearly touched in flight. That way, We were able to put out an amazing amount of firepower, he said. That, and the Norden bombsight, which made us extremely accurate at high altitudes. I also feel there was a bit of divine intervention for the crew.

Although Belle's crew members earned 51 decorations, only one Purple Heart was awarded — to tail gunner John Quinlan, who described his wound as a pin scratch on the leg. Each of the crew received the Distinguished Flying Cross and the Air Medal with three oak leaf clusters.

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