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Christmas Story |
It all started on a cool, clear night, December 19, 1947, to be exact. The place was the “Bermuda of Greenland,” as called by the local populace, known to the World as Narsarssuak, Greenland. To the U.S. Air Force, it was known as Bluie-West One. The time was approximately 1930.
The residents of Officers Barracks 6-B-2 were sitting around talking about cameras and projectors. This was a change from their usual main topics of girls and airplanes, in that order. It was just prior to the starting of the evening flicker attraction, which began at the Officers Club and 2000.
The phone rang and I was called for. It was the Base Chief Pilot, Captain “Rocky” Harris. He inquired if I would be interested in taking a trip up to the Northland, to take off at 0900 the following day. This sounded fine to me as I was interested in seeing how Eureka Sound weather station had progressed since my helping set it up in the spring of 1947.
After a visit to the “theater,” I returned to my room and made preparations for the trip. The first things to go in my B-4 bag were four pairs of wool socks. These were later to come in quite handy. Next came a caliber .45 automatic with both ball and shot ammunition, for birds and small game. After this, in rapid succession, as it was growing late, came a B-15 jacket, muffler, wool hat, gloves, compass, a 35mm and 8mm movie camera, and two rolls of movie film. This was expected to suffice for the trip. The only two things missing were a pair of high top felt shoes and pair of jersey lined pants. The pants were available but the shoes were not.
After laying out my clothes to be put on the next day, including a pair of flashy G.I. “long johns,” waist size 36 (I wear size 30), I got into bed and soon dropped off to sleep.
I arose at 0730, shaved, dressed, cleaned up the room and went over to a breakfast of eggs and bacon, cereal, toast and water, plus one vitamin pill. I called the Airdrome Officer from the Club to meet me at my quarters for transportation to Operations.
After discussing the weather at BW-8, our first stop, for approximately two hours, it was decided to call the flight off until 0900 the next day. At this time of the year much care and planning must be put into each flight as fields are few and far between up here in Greenland. The days at BW-1 are light from about 0900 until 1600 at this time of year. As it is very dangerous to attempt any night landings, it must be ascertained that the chances of getting into your destination are fairly good or you might be forced to make a night letdown and take a chance of running into one of the mountains that surround both BW-1 and BW-8. Although a good moon was up, clouds could cover this up and so it would be of no use to you.
The Airdrome Officer drove me back to my quarters and I changed back into more presentable clothes and went to work. The rest of the day was spent in attending to my duties of Base Food Supervisor.
As this was Saturday night, no show was on at the Club. The regular Saturday night dance was to start at 2100 but I decided to stay in my quarters and write letters, do a little work on my model airplane, a C-47 which I had brought up to take up my spare time, and get to bed early.
My schedule for Sunday was much like the day before. It ended about the same too. The weather at our other destinations was good but BW-8 was still doubtful so we decided to call it off until Monday. One of the factors in our decision was the fact that we had quite a bit of cargo to unload at BW-8. If we had gone to Crystal II, as had been talked over, a great deal of extra work and flying would have resulted.
Monday, the 22nd of December came in cool and clear. The temperature here rarely gets into the cold category but it isn’t always clear. Also, winds are prone to whistle down off the Cap and stay for days at speeds of from 30 to 75 miles per hour. At times, gusts pass the 100 mph mark. At these times, the cold is not felt any more than on still days. The only difficulty comes in moving about outdoors. Dust is also troublesome as it penetrates the smallest cracks in the buildings.
The weather at BW-8 had now let up to 5000 feet and about 20 miles visibility. It was thought that this condition would remain the same so a take off was decided on. All necessary papers and forms were filled out, maps obtained by both the Navigators and the Pilot and we were off for the airplane.
Our crew was made up of 1st Lt. Chester Karney, Pilot; myself as Co-pilot; 1st Lt. Ed Mann, Navigator; 1st Lt. Jim Veltri, Jr., Navigator; S/Sgt. Jim Issac, Jr., Engineer; Cpl. Dale Lemmon, Radar Operator; and Pvt. Clifford Thorn, as Radio Operator. Lt. Mann and Veltri were long time ATC Navigators of excellent reputation while Lt. Karney and S/Sgt. Issac were old B-17 men, having flown with them during the war. Lt. Mann and I were the only members of the crew to have ever been north of BW-8.
As for passengers, we carried three Weather Department men, who were to be let off at Thule, Eureka Sound, and the last at Resolute Bay. We also had Dr. and Mrs. Carleson, Danish citizens, who were going to Thule to take the place of Dr. Morland, who had died after plunging through the ice while on a walrus hunt. He had been out with the approximately 30 other hunters to procure walrus meat for feeding their sled dogs. The tusks of the walrus were to be carved into souvenirs to be sold to the Americans, like us, who flew up there and landed at the Base. The prices they charged made them practically impossible to afford, however.
The cargo we carried consisted of Christmas trees, mail, whiskey, beer, soft drinks, and urgently needed parts and supplies for our four stops – BW-8, Thule, Eureka Sound, and Resolute Bay. We also had a wicker basket to pick up a dead Canadian at Resolute Bay.
In case of emergency, we carried full equipment for sitting down in the water plus heavy clothing, sleeping bags, extra food rations, skis, and snow shoes.
At approximately 1000, we took off and after a short run were in the air. We flew down Tunugdliarfik Fjord for a short distance to gain altitude and then turned to the right and climbed through a thin overcast. The sun was up and quite low behind us and it was a very beautiful sight. The ship was working fine and was very comfortable as the heaters functioned perfectly. Outside temperature was indicated as approximately –30 Centigrade.
At our altitude of 11,000 feet, we left long vapor trails, which shown quite beautiful in contrast to the red sun and blue sky. I got my camera out and took a few shots, using both the 35mm still camera and the 8mm movie.
Approaching BW-8 on the radio change we were cleared to make a let down. We did so and broke through at about 9000 feet. Our Commanding Officer had just taken off from BW-8 to return to BW-1, so we stayed up until he had cleared the area.
At approximately 1230, we let down our gear and proceeded to make an approach on the runway. As I had been in to BW-8 only twice before, and those times eight months before, I was not too familiar with the location. However, things did not look just right so I told Lt. Karney. He was quite sure everything was OK and he said he had the runway in sight. At approximately 800 feet above the ground, I convinced him we were in the wrong area and it was decided we were over the Dock Area. So we applied power, pulled over a hill and made a new approach on the real runway, which had been hidden by the hill that the Dock Area was on.
As the runway was covered with snow and the light was poor, it was decided to fly the ship into the ground. On snow, sand, and water, it was very difficult to judge altitudes. Hence, the only sure way of keeping from dropping in from a height of 25 feet or so, was to keep power on and let it come in until the wheels touch.
The landing was quite smooth, under the circumstances, and we taxied up to the end of the runway and were met by the personnel that were waiting for us. The were most happy to see us, possibly as we had their 15 cases of whiskey aboard for them and the holiday season was here.
While we went up to get a little lunch, our ship was refueled and the cargo assigned to BW-8 was unloaded. In unloading, only 14 cases of whiskey were found, plus one case, with two bottles broken, marked for Thule. In order not to short Thule, we left only the 14 cases for BW-8.
After a very good dinner of roast beef, potatoes and gravy, carrots and pie, we filed our clearance and checked the weather for our flight to Thule. Some mail had been loaded aboard for us to take back to BW-1 for shipment to the States.
After starting up, we discovered a small snow storm was in progress and that night was here. Nevertheless, we lined up on the runway, with the assistance of a cars’ lights at the other end of the runway. After running up the engines and checking them, we were off again.
In order not to take any chances on striking any mountains, we circled out over the fjord until we were at 10,000 feet. We then turned on course for Thule, 700 miles to the north-northwest.
As it was fairly dark, illuminated only by the light of the half-full moon, not much could be seen on this leg. Much of this leg was over the water. It was a very beautiful night, however, with lots of stars and no clouds.
We flew until we estimated we were abeam of Thule and to the left. We turned 90º to the right and the runway lights soon came into view and we circled the strip and camp to get into position for a landing. The strip itself lies along edge of a hill while the camp is approximately two miles to the North. The village of Thule is about two miles on the other side of the camp.
As Lt. Karney had never landed here before, I assisted him in picking up his course for landing. The landing was deceptive but we touched down and got the ship stopped in plenty of time. We taxied back to the parking area and were met by the weather personnel stationed there.
After diluting the engines, we cut them and got out. Immediately after unloading their cargo, during which time we found a second full case of whiskey marked for Thule and left it with them, keeping the broken case aboard the ship, we got into a truck and headed for camp and something to eat. Although the meat was slightly rare, it tasted quite good.
Finished eating, we returned to the ship to refuel it. A motor driven pump was available at Thule and was quickly started. After putting it into action on the barrels that had been brought up on a sled, it was found that it would just barely draw the gas out. So we got out our two pumps and tried getting them going. One of the engines was inoperative however, and the pump on the other was no better than the Thule pump. So we switched our pumps around but the second pump was no better than the first.
Approximately four and a half hours had passed by now and the temperature was about –20 degrees. This was beginning to get us down. About this time a hand-crank pump was brought out by one of the Thule personnel, called Red, who a long, full, red beard. Using this, we could empty a 55 gallon drum in about six minutes, on the average. At the start we did it in about three minutes but as time wore on and we wore out, it took from five to ten minutes. We put in about 1000 gallons all together. In addition to the intense cold, it was continually dark, which hindered us in our work. The moon was up but it wasn’t much of a help.
At 0500 we finally got off for Eureka Sound, which was approximately 350 miles Northwest of Thule. Nothing much could be discerned on this leg, as far as identifying landmarks go, but by following the directions of the Navigators, we arrived over the strip in about two hours. As the moon was going down about this time, the actual distance between us and the hills surrounding the strip was very deceptive. Consequently, we were forced to make two passes at the strip before finally setting down on the third try. We landed at Eureka Sound at approximately 0730 on Tuesday.
The temperature here was given to us as –32 degrees so we decided to get our cargo unloaded and get back into the air as soon as possible. As it was anticipated that we might not be able to land here, the cargo had been packed for a para-drop. We soon had it all off and had loaded on the cargo – mail and Mr. Bob Tyer, a weather man who was returning to his home upon completion of his tour at Eureka Sound.
Leaving Eureka Sound at about 0800, we headed back for Thule. It was necessary for us to return to Thule in order to get more fuel and load on the body of Dr. Morland for transportation back to Bw-1. He was to be returned to Denmark by boat eventually.
Our altitude from Eureka Sound was to be 11,000 feet. After flying for about half an hour, during which time Lt. Karney was sleeping, I began to notice high mountains which seemed to be much higher than us. Having flown this same route a dozen times before I knew we were a good thousand feet over the safe altitude. Nevertheless, I pulled back on the wheel and edged it up to 12,000 feet, What I had seen was nothing more than a hallucination. I came to this conclusion after seeing the same mountain about five times. It looked exactly the same each time. I later apologized to Lt. Karney for going up but he in turn admitted that he had taken it up another 2000 feet while I had been sleeping. He had seen the same thing as I and didn’t feel quite safe either.
Approaching Thule from the West, we came in over the top of a thin overcast. However, it was thick enough to keep us from going through it as the location of the surrounding hills was indefinite. Radar was employed but wasn’t of much help. We could see the glow of the ceiling light which they had turned on to help us locate the strip. Lt. Karney finally decided to come across the light on a heading of 330º and drop down through the overcast. It was believed that this heading would take us out over the bay instead of into the hills inland. As we came over the light, the throttles were cut and we dropped. As the clouds were quite thin, we came out between the camp and the bay. We immediately circled around to lose altitude and get into position for landing. The landing was accomplished at approximately 1000.
Anticipating refueling troubles, as learned on our previous stop at Thule, we decided to divide into two groups. While one group refueled the ship, the others would eat. I joined Lt. Karney and one other in eating first while he other four crew members stayed and worked on the ship.
While at camp I was asked by the cook to take a pair of Eskimo boots back to an EM at BW-1. They cost $3 and were handmade. I agreed and paid him for them, little realizing the ultimate use of them.
We stayed up at the camp for about an hour and then returned to relieve the first group. Approximately 10 barrels had been brought over to the ship by sled by the Thule personnel but had been emptied into the right wing tanks by the time we got there. Hence, we had to roll over approximately 20 more to fill the left wing tanks plus the reserve tanks in the right wing. All pumping was done with the hand pump. An attempt was made by the Engineer to hook up the ships’ pumps but this didn’t work.
To break the monotony of turning the crank, we had Red bring out the casket containing Dr. Morland and we proceeded to load it. The casket was shrouded in the Danish flag and was made of wood over a metal liner. This made it all quite heavy. Due to its size, it just did fit into the right bomb-bay. There were only four of us to do all the lifting and we had quite a time getting it up there far enough so as to clear the door. We also had to tie it securely in place so it wouldn’t get loose if we ran into rough weather. Completed, we went back to our job of rolling and cranking.
Finally, at approximately 1600, Tuesday, we were ready to go again. The moon had come up again so we had a fair amount of light to fly by. We took off towards the bay and turned on course for Resolute Bay and Cornwallis Island, 350 miles to the West.
On this trip, as on the others, we took turns sleeping. I again saw the illusions but refrained from going up.
As we approached the station, I instructed the radio operator to call Resolute Bay and request that all passengers, their baggage and the body of the Canadian be ready for immediate loading. Also, meals were requested for 10 men. He relayed the message and received information that all vehicles were out of commission but that lunches would be brought over to the strip, which was three miles from the Base Camp, so as to be there when we arrived.
The area around Cornwallis Island is mostly all lowland so we started out let-down from 8000 feet about half an hour out. When still a good distance away, I sighted their radio tower which was covered with red lights. Our Radio Compass was working perfectly as it brought us right over the station and we continued on to circle the strip. I awoke Lt. Karney when we got down to about 1500 feet and he took over. Due to the drifted snow on the runway, we elected to drag the strip twice before attempting to make a landing. The left side of the strip had been cleaned to some extent but a large drift extended across the end of the strip and followed along the right side. It would be necessary to stay clear of this drift in order to effect a safe landing. It had been previously reported to us that we would encounter drifted snow on the runway but that the left side was clear and about six to eight feed wide. They meant 60 to 80 feet wide, fortunately. We finally approached and made our landing just barely over the drift at the end of the strip.
No sooner had we taxied back and cut the switches, when a bulldozer and sled loaded with gas pulled up in front of the ship and they started filling us up. Their pump was functioning perfectly so we were saved the trouble of refueling at last.
After unloading their cargo, we went over to the Operations shack to get some food and file our clearance. Due to some misunderstanding, however, food was only available for two instead of 10. There was plenty of coffee though.
Returning to load on the cargo, we learned that the body of the Canadian1 was also in a casket. Due to the size of the rear door, this would make it necessary to load it into the bomb-bay with the other casket. Considering the difficulty in getting the casket in, we decided to try to figure out a different way. We finally decided to ask the permission of the Station Master to remove the body from the casket and lay it atop Dr. Morland’s casket/ Obtaining the necessary permission, we had the body taken out of the casket, put into a rubber pouch, and put into the bomb-bay. In order not to soil or tear the Danish flag, two blankets and a comforter were laid down between it and the pouch.
While the station personnel were taking care of this matter, we were discussing the rest of the flight. We had to fly to Goose Bay and then to BW-1, hoping to arrive there by 1600, Christmas Eve. We had 1500 miles to go from Resolute Bay to Goose Bay and approximately 900 miles from there to BW-1. It was previously planned to go South from Resolute Bay by way of River Clyde and land Crystal II for gas. Considering the fact that we plenty of gas to go direct to Goose Bay and our alternate at Mingan, we finally decided to take up this course. The possibility of weather closing in at Crystal II was a determining factor also.
Filing our clearance, we boarded the ship and readied for take-off. We had picked up Mr. Don Cleghorn, the ex-Station Master of Resolute Bay, who was returning to Montreal.
In checking the fuel gauges, I noticed that the #2 tank only registered 120 gallons. In checking with the Engineer, I found that the tank was full however. This gauge had previously been off at Thule also. We finally got away at 2255 on an estimated eight and one half hour flight to Goose Bay, Labrador.
The trip from here on for approximately the next eight hours is rather sketchy due to the fact that Lt. Karney and I were taking turns sleeping. So I’ll have to skip over this time and take up again at 0700, Wednesday, or Christmas Eve morning.
We had been flying at 8000 feet at a power setting of 28 inches and 1850rpm. About an hour out from our estimated time of arrival, Lt. Karney boosted this up to 30 inches and 2000 rpm, as our last check point at that time put us right on course. We were eager to get down and get a good breakfast. At approximately 0710, (our ETA was 0725) the needle of the Radio Compass started fluctuating and finally settled down. As we had the set turned on the Goose Bay range station, we decided to follow that needle. At this time, due to atmospheric conditions, we thought, it was impossible to discern any identification signals on the frequency.
At approximately 0725, the needle swung around to 180 degrees, which normally means we had just passed over the station. We circled to the left and discerned a red light below.2 An attempt was made to contact the field on VHF radio channels but we could not raise them. Sensing that everything wasn’t just as it should be, we immediately reduced power to 28 inches and 1700 rpm and had the radio operator call Goose Bay on 4200 kcs and request a DF (Direction Finder) bearing for us to follow into their station. At first, they were reluctant to do so as we hadn’t requested it earlier by TWX (Army telegraph). They finally agreed to do it after we insisted and said it would take about 30 minutes for them to set it up. They said that they would give us a call when they were ready for us to transmit so that they could take the bearing on us.
While waiting for them, Lt. Karney tried to work an orientation problem on the Goose Bay Range. The Medium Frequency Command was tuned in to the frequency for Goose Bay and an “N” signal with a monotone was heard. Identification signals were indistinct however. He picked up a heading of 215 degrees and followed it until the signal faded out. Turning 180 degrees to a heading of 35 degrees, he headed back, only to have them fade out again. We then realized that we were receiving signals affected by skip-waves and so they were of no use to us whatsoever.3
Thirty minutes had passed and we had no word from Goose Bay in regards to the DF so we gave them a call. Ascertaining that they still weren’t ready we asked them to contact Cape Harrison and have them rake a bearing on us at the same time. They acknowledged our request and told us to wait for their call. By both of these stations taking a bearing at the same time, we would be able to pinpoint our position and get to Goose Bay without further delay or trouble.
Approximately 20 minutes later, we received a call from Goose Bay radio that they were ready to take the DF. We were to use Channel “D” of the VHF set. If not contact was made on this channel, we were to use Channel “C.” Unable to contact them on either, we gave them a call back on 4220 kcs and they took a bearing on us on that frequency. They instructed us to take up a heading of 244 degrees. We immediately questioned them as to whether this heading was a Magnetic or True bearing. They came back and said it was a Magnetic bearing. This still didn’t sound right but as long as we had asked them for the heading and they had given it to us, we decided to follow it. Also, while we weren’t positive of our position, they were supposed to know how to use their equipment and get us in so we couldn’t argue with them. The Navigator tried to plot our position but the moon was gone, the stars were gone, and the sun hadn’t risen either. Hence, they had nothing to work on.
This heading was flown for about an hour. Our fuel by this time was running quite low. Shortly after receiving the DF, we had further reduced the power to 25 inches and 1700 rpm, but the gas was still going quite fast. Not taking an chances on the fuel gauges, we decided to lighten the ship a little and threw out the two useless pumps. We also picked out an emergency landing spot and kept it in sight at all times. As we moved forward we picked up new ones so we could get down and be safe in the shortest time.
As we held our heading of 244º, we approached a cloud covered area which extended to the right and left as far as we could see. The clouds had become quite low and as we were quite sure that nothing short of a miracle would get us into Goose Bay now, we decided to stay in the clear, although, at this time, attempting to stay as close to the heading given us as possible.
At approximately 0835, local time, we received a heading of 238 degrees from the DF station at Goose Bay. Up to this tie no word had been received from them in regards to a DF bearing from Cape Harrison, as we requested. We had contacted one of our own Greenland based C-54’s, but they were unable to get a bearing on us or give any aid.
We were now at 9000 feet. At approximately 0845 our #1 engine fuel pressure fell off, indicating the tank was just about dry. We immediately headed towards our pre-determined landing spot, which later turned out to Dyke Lake. On the way down, #4 engine stopped. We feathered both propellers, turned off the fuel switches and evened up the fuel in our #2 and #3 tanks, the engines and tanks nearest the fuselage on the left and right wings. At about 0850 I checked the gauges and #2 read 120 gallons. Our hopes rose but soon fell, at about the same time as the needle fell to read approximately 40 gallons.
Our main concern in landing was as to what we would be landing on. As the lakes looked a great deal like the snow filled valleys, which abound in this wasteland area, it was difficult to tell them apart. A nice, flat piece of ground would no doubt have been the best place to land but this was impossible as there were none in this region off all hills and lakes. A valley might have been suitable but they might be filled with large stones although they looked quite smooth from the air. So we decided to look for a frozen lake. Our biggest difficulty here, lie in whether the ice would hold us up. Most of the lakes were large enough but some of them had running water in them. Our choice looked alright so we proceeded to circle it and pick our landing spot and direction. Lt. Karney decided to come in on the final approach from the East into the West and stop in between and island and the mainland, about 200 feet out from the mainland.
As we let down and got in position, I informed everyone to get ready and kept them informed of our altitude at all ties so that they wouldn’t be too worried. While circling the lake, the radio operator called Goose Bay on 4220 kcs and informed them that we were going down. They immediately took up a new DF on us to aid the searching parties. As we turned on the approach, the load cloud layer had moved in a little and it lay about a hundred feet off the lake. It was very thin though so we were able to get under it in plenty of time to get set for our landing. With the wheels still up, full flaps down, we came in at 130 mph with #2 and #3 engines still going perfectly. The ship touched down and came to a stop with hardly a bump. A cup of coffee on the Radio Operators table was still sitting upright and unspilled after landing. Lt. Karney had gotten it down and was only about 50 feet off from where he’d planned it. As this distance was on the right, it put us closer to the mainland, to which we were thankful.
Realizing that a fire might result, although we had cut the switches as soon as the tail hit, or the ice might break, we got out our side windows; the group in the radio compartment went out the top hatch and the men in the rear went our the rear door. We all ran about 50 feet toward the shore and watched. About 15 minutes after landing, I found I still had my ear phones on. As nothing happened or appeared to be going to happen, we returned to start unloading our personal gear plus all the emergency tools and supplies that we had aboard. As we took care of this, the Engineer doused the engines with the fire extinguisher, just in case, and drained out all the oil. Lt. Mann and Veltri carried two red parachutes to the East and placed them on the lake to better mark our position. Lt. Karney asked Mr. Cleghorn, who had had much more experience in the arctic, to pick and establish a camp site for us. He said he would be more than willing to take care of this for us and proceeded over to the mainland to find a spot. Thorn, the Radio Operator, got out the “Gibson Girl”4 and started sending out an SOS immediately. This signal was sent out the first five minutes of each quarter hour.
About this time, the Eskimo boots from Thule came out of my B-4 bag. As ordinary issue shoes are not recommended for cold weather operation, I changed into the hand-made boots. They were a little small but worked out fine. They are quite light due to their construction, two layers of skin with a layer of fur in between, they were quite warm.
In looking over the damage to the ship, we found that only the propellers were bent on three of the engines, while #1 was still in perfect shape. This appeared to be the only damage to the ship. However, the underside was bound to be damaged to some extent but due to the foot of the snow, we were unable to see further. Under the snow was a layer of slush which caused a little concern to our safety but the ice seemed to be holding up alright.
Taking a short intermission, I proceeded to get in about 25 feet of movie film and several 35mm shots. As the sun was just coming up, it was quite beautiful. On the land surrounding the lake, many cedar trees were visible, covered with snow. It began to look as if we’d have an abundance of beautifully decorated Christmas trees this year.
In order to make a path and haul our supplies to the camp site, the top hatch and the wicker basket, which was to have been used for one of the bodies, were rigged up as sleds. In this way, we soon had all the emergency equipment and our clothing under a lean-to which Mr. Cleghorn and Bob Tyer had erected. First the snow, which was about two to three feet deep, was tramped down with snow shoes. Then cedar boughs we cut from the nearby trees and laid down for a floor. Over this, a layer of rubber sheeting and canvas were laid for a flooring. A hole was dug out in front for the fire. As we had no shovel, we took one of the metal panels off of the engines and used it. Although rather unwieldy, it did the job.
Soon after landing, we radioed Goose Bay and gave them, what we supposed to be our position. We also told them that everyone was in find shape and that no injuries had been suffered. They assured us that all preparations were being rushed through so as to remove us as soon as possible. Hence, we were all high spirits. We were quite sure that they would find us right away. It all seemed like a good camping trip to us. Nevertheless, arrangements were made to conserve food, just in case.
As soon as we had our supplies brought up from the ship, we gathered wood, built a fire and prepared some food. Thanks to Mr. Cleghorn, who had a camping kit among his personal equipment, we weren’t to be without pots and pans.
Our first meal, Christmas Eve Supper, was soon in the making. We filled the pot with snow and melted it over the fire. A second pot of water was also gained this way. Coffee went into the first, while the main and only source of food went into the other. It was known as Pemmican meat for stew. It was a very good food for survival in the cold climates due to its great abundance of energy. It is composed of chopped meat and grease. Looking a great deal like a light brown stone, it was necessary for Don to cut off pieces with his knife as if he were whittling a piece of wood. These shavings were put into the water, along with some raisins for flavor and energy value. This mixture soon became thick and we could envision a most appetizing meal. We were all very hungry as we hadn’t eaten a good meal since leaving Thule for Eureka Sound, which was close to 36 hours ago.
For dishes, we used some tins that had come from our emergency kits. They had been full of candy. We filled our cans, lifted them and smelled. Personally, I believe, this was my first mistake. It was terrible and no reflection on the cook meant, either. Nevertheless, we ate it, as we had to eat something to maintain our strength. We also had some crackers to eat. These were quite good although very dry.
At any rate, we figured we’d get a good nights sleep. This had also been lacking since we left BW-1, 60 hours before. Our sleeping equipment was rather lacking, consisting of four sleeping bags and about 10 blankets, counting the two blankets and one comforter I had taken from the two bodies. I figured we’d need them more than they would. We arranged ourselves in a semi-circle, feet towards the fire and tried to sleep. One man was to the wind the “Gibson Girl” and then wake the man on his left so he could take his turn. We later found that our signals were never received. My tour came at 2000 and after finishing my hour, I attempted to go back to sleep. My pants had been wet and had frozen, so I had to take them off before going to bed. I kept on all of my other clothes except my shoes but even with all of this on, it was impossible to sleep. So I got back up and sat by the fire. The temperature was about –20 degrees. There were always about three or four of us by the fire.
During the night, the Navigators attempted to shoot the stars and get another fix on our position. Due to the intense cold, however, this was next to impossible as it had to be done with bare hands. A rough bearing was gotten later and transmitted to Goose Bay.
The moon was out and very bright. Under other circumstances one might say it was one of the prettiest nights he’d ever seen. With the trees all covered with snow, the moon-light reflecting off of everything and the stars all big and bright, it was truly a beautiful night. However, to us, it was just a cold night. There wasn’t much romance in us at this time. Also, due to our not being able to sleep, our good spirits had left. At about 0400, the moon went down and from then until it started getting light, it seemed like years. We didn’t attempt anything until the sun had come up as it was too cold. The sun helped warm things up a little bit. As soon as it had gotten light, the Radar Operator took a Loran fix with his set and compared it with the fix that the Navigators had taken during the night. They then radioed their latest findings to Goose Bay.
For breakfast, Don made our Pemmican Stew into a combination Pemmican-oatmeal-and-raisin breakfast food. Personally, I gave up eating. After such a long time without any big meals, my stomach had shrunk and so I lost all of my appetite. I contented myself with candy, crackers, vitamin pills and water.
After breakfast, we divided into groups. The Engineer was to work over the auxiliary power unit as the batteries were getting low; some went to chop wood, and Bob and I made an attempt to get some hydrogen gas generated to fill up a balloon for sending the antenna for the “Gibson Girl” into the air and so get a better signal out. We tried several means of getting the generator under water, but could get no container deep enough.
About 1500, I was sitting in the radio compartment of the ship with the radio operator when a plane was sighted. The radio operator immediately put out a call and directed the ship, a B-17, to turn to the right 90 degrees. They did so and saw us immediately. Everyone came down onto the lake and as he came diving down over our position, it was truly one of the best Christmas presents any one of us had received. Their Navigator took a check on our position and radioed it to Goose Bay. After making several passes over the lake, they then proceeded to drop us extra emergency supplies, including clothing, food and sleeping bags. Our good spirits were by now back up to normal. By the time he had finished dropping the supplies, the sky overhead looked like LaGuardia Field. B-17’s and C-54’s were circling around and everything looked wonderful. Engines sometimes annoy people living in the vicinity of air fields, but they sounded very beautiful to us after the many hours of silence. Our “Angel” wanted to attempt a landing and pick us up but he was instructed not to do so as C-47 was to come out as soon as possible and get us.
Most of the planes left but one stayed with us and circled the lake until another B-17 arrived about 1800 to drop us more supplies such as axes, another auxiliary power unit, skis, snow shoes, and more sleeping bags. Para-doctors were also aboard the ship in the event anyone had been injured and needed immediate aid. If so, tey would have bailed out and landed to aid us.
Inside the sleeping bags, there were mess kits too so we now had complete eating equipment. Pots and pans were still lacking, to a certain extent however. We were able to utilize the buckets that some of the food came in as pots and this helped a lot.
About this time, we received word that the C-47 wouldn’t be able to come that night but would be out in the morning. We were instructed to chop some holes in the ice and check its thickness. One was chopped halfway from the shore to the ship. One in front of the ship, and one further out towards the island. This way a better picture could be obtained of the condition of the ice and so the best spot for landing could be found. It averaged about 12 to 15 inches thick. The difference was in the fact that father out about three inches of slush lay over the ice. Close to shore, the ice was solid. This was decided as the best place to set down, between our ship and mainland. After we’d done this, we filled our buckets and used this water for cooking and drinking. It was very good water. However, due to its temperature and the outside temperature, the top was continually freezing over.
As darkness came the second day, the picture was quite a bit different from the day before. Our moral was up, we had sufficient sleeping bags and had a new supply of food. Included in the food was more Pemmican. This was left in favor of the bacon and sausage, however. Also, we received two gas stoves. Utilizing the containers, I made some hot chocolate out of powdered milk, water and chocolate. It tasted very good but Don insisted that it was my hot chocolate and not his cooking which later brought on my indigestion.
Although the chocolate, bacon and sausage were very good, it was entirely too rich for us and everyone soon had their fill. As we had brought in a good supply of wood during the day, we all headed for the sleeping bags, except Bob, who elected to keep the fire going. About midnight, he banked it for the night and went to sleep also. Sleeping was very good that night as the bags were quite warm and it wasn’t as cold outside.
However, all good things must come to an end. About 0500, I noticed a sharp pain in my chest whenever I swallowed. I didn’t pay much attention to it but soon felt nauseated and it wasn’t long before I lost all of my good supper. As soon as this happened, I got up and settled down by the fire. When Don got up, he have me something to settle my stomach and made some hot tea. Neither seemed to help much. In fact, cold water didn’t bother me as much as the hot tea.
For breakfast we had oatmeal and raisins without the Pemmican but it didn’t taste any different to me. After breakfast, Don complained of his hand bothering him. It was swollen quite a bit too. However, he couldn’t remember hurting it though.
Contact was made with Goose Bay again and we were instructed to get all of our baggage down to the lake so that we would be ready to move as soon as the ship got there to take us out. Due to the weather, though, they didn’t get off until about 1400 in the afternoon.
We spent our time collecting more firewood for the fire just in case they weren’t able to get through to us that day and we’d be forced to spend another night on the lake.
The Engineer brought up the second power unit, some wire, and lights from the ship and soon had electric lights in camp. Another wind breaker was also strung up. Our food was sorted out and things looked much better. We decided to forgo lunch and settle for a good supper at Goose Bay.
Finally our C-47 appeared and we all ran out to the lake.5 Flares were lit, o show the direction of the wind, and four men ran out to act as runway markers. After a couple of passes, he made a perfect landing and taxied back to pick us up. Fore some reason, he parked about 400 feet down from our position and cut his engines. We were quite upset as we were so tired we couldn’t have carried our baggage that far.
One of the first out of the ship was our Commanding Officer, Lt. Colonel Kugel. He informed us that we wouldn’t be able to take our baggage back. So we covered it up with a parachute and went down to the ship to help unload an engine pre-heater and clean the slush off of the skis. After this was all done, we climbed in and got settled for the take-off. As well as the skis, the ship was equipped with two jet units to assist us in getting off of the snow. Even with this equipment, it was necessary to make a long run on the lake before we got up enough speed to set off the jet units and get full efficiency out of them. We finally got back into the air and were soon on course for Goose Bay. The trip back was about an hour and a half in length and when we set down on the ground we were all quite happy. Before landing, however, we were forced to do a little sweating as it was impossible to tell whether the skis had retracted up from the tires, due to the amount of ice picked up on them in take-off. However, we landed on the runway and nothing happened so they must have been up.
They taxied the ship up in front on the De Gink Hotel where a group of people and the ambulances were waiting. General Haines was there to meet us also. He explained to us what we were to do. They took a group picture of us and then we got into the ambulances and went over to the hospital for our check-up.
As soon as we arrived there, we asked about sending telegrams to our families but we were assured that they had already been sent. More pictures were taken of us in small groups of two and three and then they started examining us.
As my sore chest had been reported, I was one of the first to be examined. After taking an x-ray of my chest, they checked my feet, hands, nose, and ears for any signs of frost-bite or freezing. None were found. By this time the x-ray plates were ready. After looking over, they gave me a chalky solution to take for my indigestion and I was ready to go.
While waiting for a report on Don’s hand, which was swollen quite a bit, one of the Officers asked us questions for a story to be forwarded to the newspapers. Don soon came in and informed us that he had to stay for a little while so we decided to meet him at the Mess Hall. They then took us back to the De Gink and after checking in and securing our rooms, we cleaned up and headed for the Mess Hall.
They really had a fine meal of roast beef, potatoes and gravy, green beans, asparagus, fresh lettuce salad, and butterscotch pudding for dessert. We piled it on high and soon were engrossed in putting it away. About this time, Don came in and informed us that they were going to keep him in the hospital for a few days on account of his hand and see how it turned out. It seems he had a “gaseous infection” of some kind, which evidently was not caused by the accident.
After finishing dinner, we all went over and went to bed. It was now Friday, December 26.
The next morning, I got up, took a shower and attempted to shave a little of the beard off, which had been collecting since Monday. It was most difficult, especially since we had no hot water, but it was finally accomplished, at least partially.
After cleaning up, I went over to the Canadian side of the field to send a telegram to someone I was pretty sure would like to hear from me. Seems my mother had beat me to it, however, I later found out. Mothers are wonderful people, aren’t they?
On my way back to the De Gink, I stopped by the hospital to get my left foot x-rayed. It was swollen a little bit and bothered me a little when I walked on it. So I decided to find out what was the matter with it. Evidently it was a bone bruise as nothing turned up on the plates. It probably happened when I stepped on a bough in the lean-to.
The next four days were pretty well devoted to rest and eating. They conducted an Accident Investigation which we had to attend but this didn’t take much of our time.
Thursday morning, we got up early and got ready for the return trip back to BW-1. Our Commanding Officer was taking a B-17 back. I was the Co-pilot and Lt. Veltri was Navigator. The trip back was very smooth and we hit the Base dead center, landing at 1145, four hours after take-off.
And so ended my Christmas vacation of 1947. Our amount of luck in this experience was tremendous. After thinking back, we figured out a lot of things which could have happened but didn’t. All in all, it was a most interesting and educational experience, but not one likely to be desired again.
1 The Canadian Weather Man was accidentally killed in a freak way. Evidently, there was a high-power line which ran past his bed. Before retiring, he hung some wet socks over something so that they touched his iron bed and the wire at the same time. As he got out of bed and touched the floor, he completed the circuit and was electrocuted. To preserve him, they wrapped his body and put it in a snow drift. Crude but effective, where the temperature stays around –20 degrees.
2 The location of this light was never learned, nor was its source.
3 This condition exists mostly at night. As well as the area surrounding a station for approximately 50 miles radius, the possibility that a signal will reflect from the ground and come back to earth hundreds of miles away. i.e. Miami Tower has been heard all over the World but its rated power, under the most ideal conditions, is estimated at one 75 miles.
4 The “Gibson Girl” is the emergency radio transmitter carried on all life rafts. By turning a crank, SOS signals can be sent automatically or by hand. A light may also be used. Rescue planes or ships may take a bearing off of these signals and so effect a rescue. The name is derived from the shape of the set, which was designed to be strapped between the knees and thighs, while in a sitting position.
5 The C-47, 43-16062, was the same ship I originally flew up to Greenland in the spring of 1947 and returned it to my base in Texas. It was later flown back up here for permanent assignment.