It was England, 1943, and the four-engined bombers were attacking targets across German-occupied Europe, and on each mission the chances of being shot down were as high as 25 percent.

And the last time he stepped out of a B-17 Flying Fortress, there was a parachute on his back, the flaming plane was falling out of the sky, and there were seven men behind him who were dead or about to die.

A few weeks ago, the 91-year-old Wilson clambered back into the familiar, narrow tube not as a crew member but as the guest of honor. A nonprofit group that had turned this B-17 into a flying museum was taking local journalists on short flights at the Sanford-Lee County Regional Airport . They invited Wilson, who was co-owner of a Fuquay-Varina Chevrolet dealership for several decades, to come along.

Wilson, who lives in Sanford now, was a flight engineer and gunner with the first B-17 unit to arrive in England, back in 1942. It had been 66 years since he had last taken his position behind the pilot, but as the engines of the "Liberty Belle" coughed to life, he remembered the freight-train rumble, and smiled.

"I really enjoyed that," he said, after the flight. "It brought it all back."

About the B-17s

There were 12,732 B-17s built. Now just 14 are believed to remain in flying condition and the "Liberty Belle" is one of a handful that barnstorms the country, offering rides. The Tulsa, Okla.-based Liberty Foundation has nonprofit status, but the only way it can keep in the air is to charge for rides. The half-hour hops cost passengers $430, but the fare only covers about half of the $3,500 an hour it takes to keep the bomber in the air, said Scott Maher, a foundation employee.

The B-17 was nicknamed the Flying Fortress because it bristled with machine guns. It was still vulnerable, though, to the faster and more maneuverable enemy fighters. One of the few things that gave the crews comfort was the plane's ability to survive massive damage.

Wilson is alive because the plane was so sturdy. On his fourth mission, his B-17 was badly shot up, but the pilot was able to keep it in the air long enough to limp across the English Channel and make a crash-landing in England.

The dangers were so great that if you survived 25 missions, you got to go home. "Of course, hardly anyone made it that long," Wilson said.

He was luckier than many, though: He made it precisely halfway to the goal. "Twelve and a half missions," he said. "That's what I got."

Shot down over France

The 13th mission was in February 1943. The plane had finished its bombing run and turned away from the target. Then the German fighters pounced, hitting it with cannon and machine gun fire.

The pilot was hit in the head and killed instantly. One engine was on fire, and the flames were threatening a fuel tank. The co-pilot ordered the crew to bail out.

Wilson jumped. He landed and only then noticed that he was coated in blood from minor shrapnel wounds. He went on the run for three days until he was able to link up with French Resistance fighters. Eventually he was able to cross the Pyrenees into Spain, and from there to Gibraltar and home.

All this meant that when he stepped out of the "Liberty Belle," the question from foundation volunteer Dave Alderman, was inevitable:

"That was probably a little smoother than last time, wasn't it?"

Wilson laughed.

"Oh yes," he said.