If one were to think an Albatross was huge, it was likely that that one had yet to seen the Old Fart.  With the roar of hundreds of lawnmowers, the massive bomber took to the skies at a very gentle glide...

...then a high-pitched whine began to scream from the turbines.

In this world, many planes were unable to compete against the latest fighter jets of the old world without a few crutches.  Sure, even a 20mm cannon could punch a hole through their wings, but without the speed and handling to match, many of the jets just flew by.

The B-52s, by then, were mostly just left in the hangars by then.  After the fighting, they were refurbished with new, better turbines, the leftovers rebuilt from the wreckage of the War.

Though only the lightest of these planes could ever hope to match the fighter jets, they were still faster, still tougher.

The Old Fart had just reached a high pitch as it shot straight out the hangar's front, and was now releasing two streams of nasty 20 mm rounds at the Albatross's belly, perpendicular to the cockpit.  The B-52 began to stink of gunpowder...