*An AI depiction of what African-American nose art might have looked like during WWII.*

During World War II, the noses of American bombers and fighter planes became unlikely canvases—painted with buxom pin-ups, cartoon mascots, and defiant slogans. These flying murals, known as "nose art," offered airmen a way to personalize their war machines, boost morale, and mark their presence in a fight that was anything but personal. But in the archives of this vibrant tradition, one thing is conspicuously missing: Black artists.

Where were the African American hands in this story of wartime creativity?

The short answer: likely present, but largely undocumented. The long answer invites us into a deeper look at segregation, erasure, and the unbreakable spirit of Black artists who still found ways to leave their mark.

The Canvas of War—and the Struggle for "Double Victory"

More than 1.2 million African Americans served in the U.S. military during WWII. They enlisted, deployed, trained, repaired, cooked, and flew—while also battling racism within their own ranks. Out of this complex reality emerged the "Double V" campaign: victory against fascism abroad and against racism at home. For Black service members, every task was doubled in meaning—and that included art.

*AI depiction of WWII era African-American nose art.*

Nose art became a kind of coded language, often playful or risqué. But imagine, for a moment, what an African American airman's painting might have looked like—something that spoke not just to luck or lust, but to dignity, identity, or protest. It's easy to see how such messages may have been discouraged—or painted over entirely.

Red Tails: A Collective Masterpiece

*Tuskegee Airmen P-51 ‘Red Tail’ Mustang.*

The most iconic artistic imprint left by African American airmen is, ironically, not nose art at all—but the all-red tails of the Tuskegee Airmen's planes. These weren't individual flourishes, but unit-wide markings that shouted unity and pride. The red tail became a symbol—of skill, honor, and refusal to be invisible.

While we may not have names attached to painted pin-ups or mascots by Black artists, we do have the sweeping red brushstroke of a group determined to be remembered. And that's art, too.

Artists in Uniform

Even if they weren't painting plane noses, Black artists were shaping the visual language of the war in other ways:

*Illustrator Private Don Miller and Adakian editor Corporal Dashiell Hammett work on a map in the Adakian office. -US Army Air Force*

Donald Miller, a Jamaican-born Army draftee, drew cartoons for The Adakian, a military newspaper in the Aleutian Islands. That paper’s editorial team was the only officially integrated military unit of its kind.
Thaddeus “Ted” Shearer illustrated The Buffalo, the 92nd Infantry Division’s newspaper. After the war, he became a trailblazing syndicated cartoonist with Quincy—one of the first comics to star a Black child.
Jacob Lawrence, the renowned Harlem Renaissance painter, served in a segregated Coast Guard unit. As an official military artist, his wartime paintings captured the strength and humanity of Black servicemen.

*Renowned artist Ted Shearer hard at work designing new illustrations for The Buffalo. The National WWII Museum.*

And at Fort Huachuca, a major Black military base in Arizona, a multi-year art exhibition showcased paintings, sculptures, and drawings by 37 African American artists, bringing culture to the front lines—even as segregation remained firmly in place.

Why We Don't Know More (Yet)

The absence of known Black nose artists isn’t because they weren’t there. It’s because segregation not only excluded them from certain roles—it also erased them from the record. What wasn’t documented was often deemed unimportant. What wasn’t deemed important was often forgotten.

History, however, is not static. Archival projects—from the National WWII Museum’s Fighting for the Right to Fight exhibit to oral history collections at the University of Kansas—are working to recover these lost voices. Institutions like the National Museum of African American History and Culture and the Schomburg Center continue to gather and preserve overlooked visual contributions.

Art as Resistance, Art as Record

We may never find a photograph of an African American nose artist at work on a bomber in 1944. But we do know this: Black artists served. They painted. They cartooned. They told stories through ink and color, often under circumstances where the simple act of creation was a radical one.

Whether with a brush on a fuselage or a pencil in a newspaper office, their work was part of the war effort—and part of the fight for dignity, representation, and visibility.

This is why we remember. This is why we keep searching.

Here at the Museum, we honor these creative warriors by continuing to ask the questions history tried to ignore. Because every missing brushstroke matters—and because Black hands helped shape the visual legacy of a war that reshaped the world.

Know a story we should hear? Have a family photo or letter that sheds light on this history? Reach out to us and help preserve the full picture.