The climax of all my experiences in Alaska came on March 17, 1945 while I was visiting Joe Brown. It was about 10 p.m. I was preparing to leave for home at the schoolhouse where I was teaching when I heard a plane flying quite low. We went outdoors and saw the landing lights were on and the plane was about 500 ft above the water. It looked as if he was planning to land. He made a round over the village and readied to make another try and was headed directly for the cliffs on the village side. Just as we thought the plane would crash into the cliff, the pilot turned sharply to the left and headed east and then north over the straits just above the water. About fifteen hundred feet off shore he hit the water with the landing lights still on. The plane quickly sank and disappeared under the waves. By this time three young men had crossed the bridge and the five of us, without so much as speaking to each other, rushed to the upturned skiff that was kept above the high water mark, kept there for use when the mail boats arrived.
Fortunately we had two or three flashlights among us. We turned the skiff over and dragged it into the water. Usually ten or twelve men would drag this twenty-six foot long skiff, but somehow we five did it alone. Four men rowed and one handled the steering oar. The Northeast storm began early that morning, so the sea was quite turbulent at 10 or 10:30 pm. We knew it would be difficult to see the fliers between the waves on a moonless and cloudy night. We headed into the darkness and direction where we last saw the plane disappear into the sea.
After we rowed for fifteen minutes or more, we saw a flare shot into the air on our left. We corrected our direction and in another ten minutes we saw another flare. A third flare misfired. Instead of going straight up, this flare went horizontally above the waves and in that instant I saw a yellow life jacket to the left of our skiff. I yelled to our men that I saw someone in the water and that we should turn left. Our flashlights pointed in the direction where the jacket was last seen. We were able to locate the floating flier who got separated from the rest of the crew and were able to pick him up.
The men in the raft, seeing our flash lights turn away from them, thinking that we were heading for shore, began to yell at the top of their voices. After we reached their raft and saw that we had picked up their missing companion there was rejoicing in the skiff as they had given up hope of seeing him again. The six fliers sat in a four man raft, which was swamped due to the rough sea. We transferred the six into the skiff, and the twelve of us turned for shore. The sea was rough and nearing the shore the breakers were quite large and we drew water.
During the time we were out picking up the fliers practically the whole village came to the beach to welcome us. We were able to yell above the noise of the breakers that we were swamped and that we were going to throw out the painter when we got closer to shore. The people were able to grab the rope and other waded into water to help. We sat in the skiff almost filled with water and twelve men and we pulled ashore. The people literally picked up the officers and carried them along the beach to the teachers quarters in the schoolhouse. We changed into dry clothes. Joe Brown brought new clothes from the Alaska Packers Assn. Store for the men had lost everything they had.
We learned something from and about our guests after a change of clothes and a hot coffee. The plane was a Ventura medium bomber stationed on the naval air base on the most western Aleutian island of Attu. The men had been there for their term of service and were headed for Whidby Island in Washington state and were going to stop to refuel at the Kodiak naval base. They were flying over Chirikof Island southwest of Kodiak when the radio and compass malfunctioned. The plane was unable to set its course by radio nor could they tell where they were without the compass. They drifted to the northeast which was the northwest side of Kodiak Island. Seeing the lights of the homes on both sides of the Karluk River made them think that they were over the base at Kodiak. The interpreted the river as the runway and the lights on either side to be the side lights for the landing strip. This is why they turned their landing lights on. These lights later saved their lives as they were headed for the cliffs and hence their sharp turn to the east.
Our Guests were:
Albert (Jim) Morehead – Pilot, his home address was in Massachusetts. Present address – 19629 Military Rd, S. Seattle, WA, 98188. In 1976 Ruth and I took a trip to the northwest and were able to visit the Morehead’s home. We spent an afternoon with Marion and Jim and even went boating on the lake adjacent to their home. About a month later we received a letter from Marion telling us that Jim had a massive heart attack when he died. Marion still lives at the address above. They have a son who lives nearby. He is a carpenter with his own business..
Patrick Tierney – Co-Pilot, the flier who was separated from the rest of the crew and whom we picked up first was from Ocean Grove, NJ. His present address is 318 Woodmere Ave, Neptune NJ, 07753.
Charles Fitzpatrick – Navigator was from Baltimore Md. His present address is 1355 N. Rolling Rd, Baltimore MD, 21228.
William Glennon -Gunner was from Maywood Ill. His present address is 57 Crestview Dr., Western Springs, Ill, 60558. When he told me he was from Maywood, I said I had a good friend in Maywood. As a student at Moody I attended the Pilgrim Mission in Forest Park, Ill. One Fred Martin and his family worshipped and I taught Sunday School. Fried’s son was in my class. When I mentioned Fred’s name, Bill Glennon said, “I know Fred, he lives on the same block as me.” We agreed it is a small world indeed.
Greg Beurskino (Rollo) – Radioman, lived in #71 Highway, Grand View, Missouri. His present address is unknown and we have had no contact with him since 1945. Niether have his crew mates.
John Moran – Mechanic, 111 Amsterdam Ave, New York, NY. After he returned to the states he was reassigned for duty with another crew. He was stationed in Florida when his plane crashed and he was killed.
Kenneth Sherman was not a member of this crew, but was a passenger on his way home on furlough. His home was in Festus, Missouri. After his service he married his wife Betty. His address is 1121 Abbey Lane, Pevely, MO 63070. We visited the Sherman’s on a trip westward. Around 1994 Kenneth had an operation and died on the operating table.
I kept five of the seven fliers in my quarters and the other two were kept by the villagers. We housed them for four nights because of the rough seas which prevented the Navy from picking them up. A Navy launch finally arrived and took the men to Kodiak. From there they went to Whidby Island Navy base where they were reassigned for other duty.
This crew had made seven flights of air strikes over Japan and had seven Japanese planes destroyed to their credit. They never had a crash or bail out, nor any serious in-flight trouble until this trip to begin their furlough. The experience of the rescue formed a bond such as found among brothers. We have kept in contact with each since 1945 almost every year on the anniversary of the crash. In 1988, the forty-third anniversary, Patrick Tierney and his wife, Kenneth and Roberta Sherman, Charles Fitzpatrick and his wife came to Milford for the anniversary. Kenneth said at that time how wonderful it would be to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary in Karluk, even though some of our number were already dead. Ken himself passed away before the anniversary and no Alaskan celebration took place.
Joe Brown retired from his job at Karluk and lived most recently at Rt 3 Box 2020, So Daytona Fl, 32019. The last letter I wrote to Joe was returned as “undeliverable”. He was living in a mobile home park and had four brothers and two sisters. One sister lived in New York City, another in Kings Ferry NY, one brother in Sioux City Iowa. The others I do not recall. Joe was the youngest of a large family. He was born in Frenchtown, Pa., a small town near Erie Pa.
Later in 1945, I returned east to visit my family and returned to Karluk in the fall of the year. I had bought a Chevrolet coupe and Chester Piell and I drove to Seattle WA and then flew to Kodiak. Before we arrived in Seattle we decided to visit several national parks. These parks I had seen, but Chester had not. We went through the Badlands of South Dakota, later to Mt. Rushmore and continued into Montana and Glacier Park. We continued into Canada through Waterton National Park which lies directly on the boundary line of the US and Canada. We then went to Lake Louise, a park to which I had been four times. This is probably the single most beautiful spot in all the parks. We continued north to Jasper Park and then turned south and returned by way of Calgary. We spent several days circling the parks and then continued west into the Snake River Canyon, into the Columbia River Gorge and over the Grande Coulee Dam. From there we went on to Seattle. I sold my car for more than I paid for it in New Jersey.
Leave a Reply