Ferry Squadron Tales

Ferry Squadron Tales



Another very memorable flight I made in 1945 while flying with 126 Ferry squadron out of Winnipeg, Man. commenced at North Battleford, Sask. where our group of pilots was dropped off to fly Harvard aircraft to Dauphin, Manitoba.

It was a beautiful summer day without a cloud in the sky when we took off. I remember being able to see for hundreds of miles from an altitude of 8-10 thousand feet. First I could see Saskatoon, then Manitou Lake at Watrous and finally Big Quill Lake next to my home town of Wynyard.

The plan for the flight was to land for refueling at Yorkton, However, when we arrived over Wynyard I could not resist giving the citizens another air show of aerobatics while the rest of the flight continued on. When I arrived over Yorkton I could see that my companions had already refueled and left for Dauphin. Anxious to catch up, I estimated that I had enough fuel and so did not land but pressed on. As I flew towards Dauphin the weather deteriorated with visibility becoming less and less When my ETA (estimated time of arrival) passed, Dauphin airfield was still nowhere in sight. Not having a map, I was completely lost and despite an ever widening circle could not find the airfield. By this time the fuel gauge showed empty so I had to get down fast or take to my parachute abandoning the aircraft, not a pleasant alternative.

The countryside was covered by bush with only the occasional farm field large enough in which to land a Harvard. I used the last few drops of fuel looking and at the last moment found a summer fallow field surrounded by tall poplar trees I skimmed the trees and with a steep side-slip made one of my better landings. The only trouble was the field was short and as I approached the end I reached to lift the undercarriage to prevent winding up in the trees. Fortunately, the deep summer fallow slowed my progress and I got stopped with only yards to spare.

Owner of the land accompanied by several neighbors who had witnessed my circling and landing quickly arrived for a close-up look. When an aggressive bystander attempted to climb into the cockpit, I became quite concerned for the safety of the aircraft, the farmer-owner agreed to tether his guard dog next to the aircraft, setting up a security perimeter while I headed for the highway leading to Dauphin, 15 miles away. I was lucky to catch a ride with a Coca Cola truck, spending the night in air force quarters. In the morning I enquired about transportation to carry fuel back to the aircraft. The station was in the process of closing down and the only vehicle available was an ambulance. With the driver I loaded several gallons of gas and returned to my aircraft, still safely sitting where I had left it.

With the gas on board and with the help of the farmer and neighbors we pushed the aircraft to the far end of the field, back into the trees as far as I safely could and with flaps down, brakes on and with full throttle I zoomed out of that field like a helicopter, landing shortly after at Dauphin.

My hope that I had “got away with it” lasted for a few weeks until one day the Commanding Officer called me into his office wanting to know what I was doing in that farmer’s field where he claimed damage to his crop.

Lucky for me, I had a very understanding commander who when he heard my sad tale, dismissed the whole affair and I never heard another word about it.