Well, what you say about photography, especially of the B&W variety is true. I still to this day go to the effort to obtain 35mm B&W film and shot through my trusty AE-1. Sometimes even run through a roll or two of color for special events, but on the whole I prefer to shoot in B&W. Development can be interesting . . . B&W no problem . . . and I’ve a buddy who will do the color for me. In short, I am well aware of the limitations of B&W film . . . and its compositional, dare I say, artistic, advantages. I need no lecture on photography, but your explanations are probably helpful for the un-indoctrinated, thanks for the commentary. Odd, though, that you should mention Agfa . . . some 40 years ago when I was going through a “. . .everything must be in color - beautiful colors . . .” phase, Agfa was my film of choice for true color presentation . . . guess they must have fixed the problem of the earlier times.
The point to my little demonstration was to show, first, the actual colors, then, second, how those appear colors appear in B&W. A very simple and enlightening demonstration, and presents the obvious differences in the two paint schemes. As was pointed out: “ . . none of the above bears on what colour the planes were or your knowledge of those issues . . .” Knowledge, as they say, is power.
For those of us, such as myself, who spent their entire childhoods surrounded by US naval aviation and half their childhoods actually living on naval air stations (An aside, the year I went off to my freshman year at that obscure military college in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, was, coincidently, my father’s last year of commissioned service, his 33rd. 31½ of those years he wore the wings of a naval aviator, commissioned in June 1938 and winged in December 1940. That last year, home, when on leave, was quarters at Breezy Point, on the Norfolk Naval Air Station, right behind the Breezy Point BOQ, with a unobstructed view of planes coming and going from New Chambers Field and not all that far from those old, but no longer used, seaplane ramps. This was the third time with actual quarters on this station in my then youthful 18 years. I well remember from earlier year’s the row on rows of the PBM’s direct descendant, the Martin P5M lined on that seaplane ramp or bobbing at anchor in nearby Willoughby Bay, but they all went away in the late 1950s.) For those of us who grew up living on naval air stations, paying attention, watching these comings and goings, able to identify an aircraft by sound without looking; for those of us who have maintained an abiding interest in the historical aspects of US naval aviation, lo, for more than, say, 55 cognizant years, that is, since maybe 5 or 6 years old; for those of us, however few, who may fall into that description, a B&W photo of a WW2 era USN aircraft is not at all hard to decipher. Some don’t get that . . . not particularly my problem except their challenges are more than somewhat . . . ahhh . . . weak when unsupported by practical experience. The USN spelled out in great laborious detail how aircraft were to be painted . . . this was not a case of commander’s discretion, this was effectively “. . . this is how you are going to do it (period)” The historic record in both color and B&W photographs only serves to reinforce the concept that these paint schemes were thoroughly implemented across the service.
Those of us familiar with these and their follow on paint schemes through repeated exposures can recognize them at a glance. I daresay, looking at a given photograph, that I would not mistake a Pacific theater paint scheme for an Atlantic theater paint scheme, even in B&W, as the difference between the two, for me, is glaringly stark. Someone without that exposure might want to bob and weave about cameras, film, and lighting, but no, to the practiced eye, and I assure all both of mine are so practiced; it is but child’s play to tell the difference.
Here is a case of someone making an incorrect aircraft identification (and how one could confuse a PBY for a PBM I can’t fathom unless it is another one of those exposure things), somewhat explaining that away, and then making an incorrect locale identification or guess with no evidence at all, indeed, flying in the face of evidence to the contrary already offered and apparently through a process of disregarding of the evidence for wishful wanting. Simply digging the hole deeper. When his error in locale is explained, he goes off on photography, lighting and angles.
Where I’m from, when one finds oneself in a hole which is getting deeper, the best thing to do is stop digging.
I believe the demonstration provided clearly shows the effects of lighting and angle on the paint schemes in question. If one is at all reasonably conversant in the subject, one would draw the same conclusions as did I; if one is not so reasonably conversant, then one is forgiven, but uninformed, nay, wishful, speculation does not do much for identification. I am sure the correspondent in question has his own areas of expertise to which I would surely and willingly defer due to my lack of knowledge in the same. This, however, since US naval aviation in WW2 is just about the only historic field in which I have maintained an avid interest - any other fields, despite a degree in history, being but of idle curiosity, is not one of those cases. So, knowing, through both regulation and practical demonstration what the actual colors schemes were, all one need do is compare the photo way back in the original post to the B&W version at Guantanamo Bay NAS in the Atlantic scheme and to that last B&W version of the Pacific scheme. Is it really, really, that hard to tell the difference? No generalities, no photography theory, just a side by side comparison . . . it is night and day.
Take it or leave it.
