The Boeing P-26 "Peashooter" is famous as the first production all-metal monoplane pursuit in U.S. Army Air Corps service.
Less known are the experimental test-beds it spawned. One of the most recognizable of these may have been the delta wing XP-26DW.
A "one-off" created to test the combat efficiency of delta wing pursuits with an eye to raising the Peashooter's critical Mach number, the XP-26DW featured an enclosed "greenhouse" offering good all-round view and was armed with one .30 and one .50 caliber synchronized machine gun protruding from fairings in the unique delta wing.
Of course, this oddball Peashooter still had those magnificently streamlined and incredibly intimidating spats the type is famous for.
The Boeing XP-26DW proudly displays the prototype 'P' on the fin as well as a smaller number 2440 on the fuselage. This is not an aircraft serial, but official notice that due to the type's tendency for fatal spins, form 2440 is required to file for survivor's benefits.
The test-bed somehow survived numerous close-calls and this late in its career was being used to test-fire new ordnance. It had been armed with the top-secret Goddard GAR-9D rocket.
The GAR-9D had a magnetic warhead which would hone in on the metal bits of modern bombers. The rocket was released and its engine fired a split-second after it cleared the mother ship. Once the rocket was at a safe distance, its warhead would activate and acquire the enemy target who would be unable to escape destruction. In theory.
The XP-26DW had been sent to the Ft. Apache Proving Grounds gunnery range
and has that facility's distinctive badge with test mission tallies beneath the canopy.
The timing was fortunate indeed because trouble was brewing that the Americans were blissfully unaware of.
Across the border, the Republic of Mexico eyed its neighbor to the north suspiciously. In a reprise of the infamous Zimmerman Telegram from W.W. I, the country was ready to go to war against the Yankees. Planners hoped a lightning-strike aimed at a critical U.S. industry would soon bring the gringos begging for terms, even if a Mexican stand-off was more likely. Accordingly, a target that filled the hunger for victory was chosen.
The Mexican Tactical Air Force was especially incensed by this culinary cultural appropriation and were bent on revenge. This operation would test their dive-bombing skill to the limit since they were selected to launch the sneak snack attack.
Recently re-equipped by Germany with appropriated ex-Austrian O.E.F. Albatros XX attack monoplanes, the Mexican Tactical Air Force had the tools it needed to accomplish the mission and let the gringos snack on the bitter taste of defeat.
In the interest of range, the Albatros XX monoplanes would be armed with only one 125 kg bomb each. As the pilots chosen for the mission underwent enhanced pin-point dive-bombing training, they could take heart that their aircraft featured spats almost as fearsome as the ones Americans fielded.
Three Albatros XXs took off from the Los Trios secret forward base early in the morning of December 7, 1940.
This fiendish flight took a low, circuitous course to the target, hoping to avoid detection by the Yankees.
And for a while that worked as the sun climbed higher in the sky and painted the desert below in a rosy hue. This was taken by the banditos as a good omen.
Unfortunately for the Mexican Tactical Air Force, the Air Corps was up early too. And they'd had their coffee.
That delta wing XP-26DW was up and about, headed to the Ft. Apache not-the-Bronx Proving Grounds to lob yet another Goddard GAR-9D rocket at some hapless target.
By this point, two of the Mexican Albatross XX attack planes had turned back due to engine trouble and just barely made it across the border to sanctuary. The sole remaining pilot pressed on, now even more determined than ever to complete the mission.
At last the target came within visual range. The pilot brought his Albatros XX to altitude and assumed the best angle of attack.
At that very moment, the XP-26DW was passing over Doritos Plant #17 and was astonished to see it was being attacked. He watched in horror as the bomb fell from the enemy 'plane.
The bomb missed and took out the spoilage storage silo and the temporary employee parking lot which were set apart from the main facility. The Air Corps pilot wasted no time chasing after the enemy attacker.
The enemy was skilled at evasive maneuvers however, forcing the Air Corps pilot to find a new firing position.
At the last second, the Mexican Albatros XX performed a miraculous accelerated climb and snap-roll, pushing his aircraft to the limit.
The Air Corps pilot released his Goddard GAR-9D rocket. Its magnetic war-head locked on just as the Mexican passed in front of Doritos Plant #17. While the GAR-9D was supposed to target enemy bombers, this time it acquired the metal snack-food factory instead.
Both attacker and Doritos defender were shaken by the blast which forced them to the ground. The Mexican pilot was taken prisoner and almost faced mob justice from the Plant #17 shift-workers until the Air Corps pilot stepped in. While the Americans could take comfort in having captured the enemy, the Doritos firm was dismayed to learn they were ineligible for compensation from their insurance company who refused to pay damages for acts of war.
The next day, President Roosevelt gave a stirring speech before Congress.
War was declared against Mexico, and by extension, the entire axis. While most of the damage suffered by Doritos Plant #17 had been caused by an Air Corps rocket and not an enemy bomb, this fact would not become public knowledge until 1992. America had entered a war which they had shown no previous appetite for.
Nothing remains of either the Boeing XP-26DW delta wing test-bed or the Mexican Albatros XX today except these short-run models which sadly only garnered a dis-honorable mention in the humor section of the IPMS magazine
Rivet Counter Weekly after being entered in the Los Doritos Model Show, Swap-Meet and Pot-Luck.
Brian da Basher
