The Word Of An Airmen

Of a certain Aleutian airmen to be exact...  my buddy Lt. Col (RET) Bob Brocklehurst.  This Veterans Day is dedicated to him and all those that flew with him in the Aleutian Campaign as well as throughout his 28 year Air Force career.  Please take an hour out of your day, perhaps while you are in the car, cooking dinner or getting ready for work, to hear his story.  

I made this video for Bob's family who are equally as inspiring as their patriarch.  It was taken the first time Bob and I met in February 2017 when I showed up at his home loaded with my grandfather's memorabilia, ready to show all with hopes of it sparking some type of recollections.  Or even better,  that maybe, just maybe- they had crossed paths. Bob did not want to be video recorded that day though.  He just wanted to talk.  So, I hit record and placed my phone down on the table ensuring I would capture every word that he shared with me.

Little did I know, that this day would lead to a special friendship that I will forever deeply cherish.   I miss Bob very much.   Countless times I have wanted to pick up the phone and tell him the latest new discovery in my research.   Or how I have come across his name or the names of the people he would speak about.  It was good to hear his voice.  It inspires me to keep on.  Hopefully it does the same to you.

Today,  I raise my special 41-G glass filled with a velvety scotch and dedicate it to a life well lived and an honorable service.  Here's to you Bob my friend; here is to you! 

WWII at Elmendorf Air Field

Last Sunday, on Canada Day nonetheless, I was blessed with the opportunity to fly out of the very same airfield as my grandfather did 76 years prior, Elmendorf Field, (Joint Base Elmendorf Richardson). It was 1942 and the RCAF had just arrived in Anchorage to commence joint operations with the U.S. Army Air Corps. Here is what their day looked like.

1-7-1942

“A six plane scramble today to intercept Bolingbroke aircraft. The scramble was not successful as the wrong vector was given. The second scramble at lunch time- Bolingbroke aircraft intercepted and identified as Bolingbroke. Section formation carried out for an hour.”

Elmendorf Air Field in 1941 roughly six months prior to the arrival of the RCAF. 

 

Elmendorf Air Field 2018,  looking westward.

Our westward take off out of what is now Joint Base Elmendorf Richardson using the same WWII runways that my grandfather and his squadron would have used.  Look closely and you will see the U.S. Air Force Thunderbirds lined up.  They were there as part of the weekend's Arctic Thunder Air Show.  Incidentally, "Thunderbird" was also the name of my grandfather's squadron; 111(F) Thunderbird Squadron, RCAF.  Neat! 

RCAF P-40's flying over an Alaskan range.  Photo courtesy of Maj. Fred Paradie.

A surreal moment.  Allies then and allies now.  

A humongous thank you to the Commemorative Air Force- Alaska Wing.  Such a great group of people. If you have an interest in WWII aviation or WWII in Alaska then I strongly encourage you to join the squadron and support their efforts in keeping the legacies of these warbirds and those who flew them alive.  It was the best thing I have ever done! 

JOIN THE SQUADRON!  

Thanksgiving 1942

Normally,  when Canadian Thanksgiving rolls around,  I am on some softball park sweating every once of fluid I have out of my body while I watch my daughter play softball.  But not this year....  This year, for the first time in close to a decade, I had the chance to celebrate Canadian Thanksgiving, albeit still sweating, but this time over my stove while preparing a traditional feast for a group of people I am most thankful for.   My Floridian neighbors who watch my house while I am traveling around the country in the pursuit of history and for a mom and her family who seamlessly step up to fill my shoes for Aly when needed.  What would I do without these people?  

Whether they wanted it or not,  having them in the house became a history lesson.  The photos, planes and war memorabilia that decorate my dining room inspired them to ask questions which gives me a chance to tell them the story of a group of brave unknown servicemen who stepped up for our freedom in a barren and lonely place that so few know about.   Believe me, the pleasure was all mine... if they hadn't left, I'd still be talking... smile. 

Let's take a look at what the 111(F) Squadron, RCAF and the rest of the folks at Fort Glenn on Umank were doing October 8th, 1942.   Not celebrating Canadian Thanksgiving that is for sure...  Take a look.

Keep in mind, at this time, half the Canadian squadron had been at Fort Glen for three months and attached to the Army Air Corps while the other half remained on duty at Elmendof.  Therefore you will see two separate entries, one from the group at Elmendorf and the other from Umank.  At this time, Canadian airmen made up roughly one third of the air strength in the Aleutians.   

8-10-1942

ELMENDORF

LAC Ward, H.D. Fabric Worker, became an acting Corporal (unpaid). Sergant Wise, L. was discharged from Post Hospital. A large portion of our squadron that is at Elmendorf received Typhoid shots. The first word of the pending movement of our pending squadron to Kodiak. A Signal was sent to Umnak for all personal of No. 111 (F) Squadron to return to Elmendorf as soon as possible. Flying time total was 5:10hrs. 

UMNAK

Pilot Officer O.J. Eskil and Flight Sergent Stusiak and Skelly on patrol today.  Weather poor. Signal received from Elmendorf notifying us to return to Elmendorf as soon as possible. Everyone busy arranging for quick move. Signal sent to Fireplace for flying officers Gohl and Lynch, and pilot officer Gooding to return immediately. The pilots of the Army Air Corps 11th Pursuit Squadron came over and paid us a visit of "Congratulations" on the **Kiska Mission. The books for our Umnak Detachment Library, so kindly donated by the American Red Cross, were turned over to the 11th Pursuit Squadron, U.S. Army Air Corps. Flying Officers Gohl and Lynch and Pilot Officer Gooding arrived from *Fireplace at 17:15 hours. Flying time total 7:00hrs. 

*Fireplace was the Canadian code name for the base on Adak.  

**The Kiska Mission is the first offensive mission the Canadians saw in Alaska.  On September 25th, 1942,  four RCAF Pilots: P/O Lynch, P/O Gooding, P/O Gohl and S/L Boomer, were chosen to fly with the 11th Pursuit's,  343rd Squadron on a escorted bombing mission over Japanese occupied Kiska Island.  The mission was a success.  Many targets were destroyed as well as the take down of two enemy rufes.  RCAF S/L Boomer credited with one of them and Maj. Jack Chennault, son of Brig. Gen. Claire Chennault, claiming the second.  S/L Boomer's take down will forever be in history as the only RCAF victory in the Pacific Theater.  Before arriving in the Aleutians, the Canadian Squadron Leader also had victories in the skies over Europe.  Read more about the Aleutian mission here. 

A WW2 Thanksgiving, 1942

As we sit down to enjoy the feast and family of the season, let us keep in mind those who came before us to make the celebration of this day possible.  Our world would look so very different if it were not for those brave enough to sacrifice themselves in order to protect our way of life.  Keep those of service in your prayers.

So, what did Thanksgiving look like in the time of war?  Well, here is what the guys in the R.C.A.F. 111(F) Squadron were up to Thanksgiving day on Kodiak Island, November 26th, 1942, as they were on guard, ready to defend our land.  This entry was taken from the Squadron diary.

R.C.A.F. Mess Hall, 1943

November 26th, 1942

"The Squadron had a very fine, "Thanksgiving Meal" at noon with turkey and all the trimmings, and in the evening a luncheon consisting of cold meats, cold salads, beer and smokes. Flight Sergeant Staples, H.M acted as Master of Ceremonies, and handled the affair very capably. There were speeches by Squadron Leader Boomer, Flight Lieutenant Webb and Flying Officer Farrell. Several members of the Squadron released their hidden talents and community singing was enjoyed by all. Some of the personnel took advantage of the invitation which had been extended by the 401st Bombardment Squadron, U.S. Army Air Corps and went to their Mess Hall around 2030 hours. Weather conditions bad, runways poor. Flying time today totaled zero zero hours."

Looks like a rare, relaxing (can you say that during a time of war?) day thanks to the lousy weather.  I guess, in this case, the clouds, wind and freezing rain was on their side...


Here is wising you all a very happy and blessed Thanksgiving!

Where Do I Possibly Start?

Where do I possibly start with a trip that held so much sentiment as this one did for me?  At the beginning?  Nah... Way to predictable. 

View from atop a hill over looking Umnak's two WW2, still functioning, airstrips.

I had held it together until this point.  The second last stop of the trip- Umnak Island, Alaska; the most forward base at the onset of the campaign. The first one my grandfather and his squadron were stationed at.  Fresh out of flight school- his first combat posting.   He was only 24.   This unknown mountainous territory totally new to him.  To all of them.   Even for a modern day pilot who has all the help of GPS, radio systems, satellite, you name it.. still find it hard to fly in Alaska.  Imagine a group of green pilots making their way, several thousand miles through the clouds and fog, battling the unpredictable winds,  loosing five along the way; nearly more, nearly yourself.  Only to arrive at a barren, treeless, village-less land.  What must they have been thinking?  What Godforsaken place were they? 

I had left the group momentarily, climbed  alone to the top of this hill over looking both airstrips where my grandfather used to take off and land his P-40 back in summer of 1942. I sat there alone and soaked in the enormity of the moment.  I needed to.  The four year journey, countless hours, tons of tears, incredible memories and unforgettable people- I had done it.   Mission compete.  Now what?  You see, Umnak was the last stop I needed to complete my journey to visit every base my grandfather was stationed on while in Alaska.  And the funny thing is, by no way does this seem like an ending.  It actually feels like the beginning of what is yet to come. This blog that started out as a tribute to my grandfather has captured my heart and has morphed into an educational and historical storyboard that brings awareness to those who sacrificed so much of their lives and homeland so we could live comfortably now.   So what is next?  To be truthful, I am not entirely sure.  But I am sure willing to find out.   And so it begins...again. 

My Papa, recieiving his wings as a Pilot Officer,  October 24th, 1941, just four months after starting flight school.

And as I was atop of that hill, the only word that came to mind is blessings.  Immeasurable blessing- and it is thanks to them.   And so I write...

Hello Kodiak..

Ahem.. where was I....

Without ever having been there, I saw Kodiak as a special place. I have not quite figured out why exactly besides the fact that my grandfather spent much of his WW2 time on this awe inspiring island.   I could not wait to get my feet planted on that majestic soil.  First things first though, conquering my fear of small planes.  These tiny planes, also known as Air Taxi's, dot the Alaskan skies and are a very common mode of transportation between small villages. Quite frankly, I am not even sure if what I was scheduled to fly on would be considered an Air Taxi with its eight rows of seats.  The De Havilland Dash 8 Turboprop is part of the Ravn fleet of planes.  Ravn was formerly the conglomerate group of Era Alaska, Frontier and Hageland Aviation, which made up the largest air carrier in the state. They even used to have their own reality show on the Discovery Channel, titled Flying Wild Alaska. There you could catch a glimpse of the day in the life of the Tweto family, who ran Era Alaska. This show quickly became one of my favorites, because it allowed me to see what flying the Alaskan skies was like for my grandfather.  The company eventually went through a re-branding and sadly the show is no longer being filmed.  Sometimes, if your lucky though,  you can still catch the reruns. Remarkably, it is said that one in ten Alaskans is actually a pilot.  You would think that all this information would bring me some comfort. Nope.  Not so much. 

My air chariot to Kodiak Island, Alaska- DE HAVILLAND DASH 8 TURBOPROP

I arrived at the Anchorage Airport the usual one hour early, only to find no lines and a lot of pre boarding time on my hands.  The plane was so small that there were no assigned seats, and actual boarding time was only 10 minutes before the flight.  So I did what any nervous gal would do to calm the nerves, I hit the airport bar.  Parking myself in the only open spot they had, next to a friendly local gentleman, who had plenty of cash lying in piles on the bar in front of him.  He immediately engaged me in conversation about who I was and where I was off to, in the exchange for his own information. He, named Sam, was from the North Slope.  The North Slope being as far North in Alaska as you can be along the Arctic Ocean.  There is big oil all along the North Slope so it is, surprisingly to me, a busy place.  Oddly, Sam did not know where his final destination was.  Guess he was just going to hang out in the airport for days.... a whole different kind of adventure.  Beside him (at least according to him) we were his new best friends, two native Alaskan women, Nastasia and Wilma.   One from Bethel, and the other from Hooper Bay. What a great, but brief time we had.  As I began to tell them what had brought me to their state, they expressed the importance of knowing how WW2 effected the Alaskan natives.  How so many of them were relocated and interned.  How families were separated. How land was taken away.  Villages torn apart.  A whole other disheartening and often overlooked calamity of war.    Although brief, I learned a lot from my new friends.  It was one of my most memorable moments for sure.  As all good things must come to an end, so did my time at the airport bar.  Fifteen to twenty minutes before boarding, I said my good byes and headed over to the gate, only to arrive there and find the crew waiting for the last passenger to board: me.   Apparently they had been calling my name over the airport loud speaker. Evidently, airport speakers do not work in the airport bars.  Whoops.  

My new friends.
 Sam, Nastasia and Wilma 

I boarded, and seeing as there was no allotted seating, I picked almost the first seat I could find which was not that difficult as the plane was half empty.  I chose a seat next to a girl about my daughters age.  Turned out to be a well suited partner for my first teeny tiny airplane experience.  She was a transplanted Kodiakian on her way home to see her grandmother, Barb, for the summer.  This brave lil girl was flying by herself, although I am positive she would not think of herself as courageous, as she has been flying this route solo, for years.  And as I looked around the plane, not one passenger looked the least bit nervous, except me, the wimpy outsider.  I chose to take some comfort in everyone else's calmness, at least momentarily.   

She talked the whole trip about this or that.  Showed me her fashion designs.  Told me about her parents, her siblings, her grandmother... it was the perfect distraction.  Until we landed.  Then her chipper tone turned into one laced with doubt about why we kept descending, without being able to see the ground, and how surprised she was, that we could not yet see land.  Oh boy.  Finally, several hundred feet above the water,  we were below the thick fog, and landed safely on the frequently wet Kodiak runway.  Albeit a bumpy landing, enough to make the flight attendants eyes light up,  I had made it.  Afterall,  I am on a mission to retrace my grandfathers steps, and flying in the fog is all part of it.  Why would it be anything different?

Top- Leaving Anchorage.

Middle- The view for 55 of the 60 minute flight.

Right- Finally through the fog, just  a 

 few minutes before we landed.

Top- A rainy Kodiak welcome.
Bottom- The airport.  That's pretty much all of it.
If you look closely, you can still see our plane outside the window.

Once in the airport,  I introduced myself to the grandmother of the little blessing that I sat beside on the flight.  In a typical small town fashion she then offered to drive me to my destination- Mrs. Potts Bed & Breakfast, whom she knew.  Of course.  Come to find out, everyone knows everyone in Kodiak.  Our drive home turned into a rainy tour of the most adorable and beautiful fishing town.  I would say, that the fog and the rain was a warm Kodiak welcoming, that was part of the authentic experience I was looking for.   I welcomed it.  In fact, when I arrived at the B&B I dropped my stuff off, suited up in my spunky new orange rain gear and hit the streets, to find myself a beer and a warm meal, preferably something freshly caught, like Kodiak cod.   

Top L-R: Foggy Kodiak Harbor, Mrs. Potts' B&B- my home away from home.
Second L:  The Mall; a U shaped section of a few stores and bars in downtown of Kodiak.
Bottom: View of a harbor where some Deadliest Catch boats dock when not at sea.
Namely:  Saga, Seabrook, Cornelia Marie
Note the thick fog we just landed in.  There is a large mountain hidden within it.  

Henry's Great Alaskan Restaurant in the downtown "Mall" sounded like just the spot.  The place was packed, mostly with hungry fisherman it seemed, all fueling up and letting loose after a long rainy day of hard work.  The food was scrumptious and the local beer was smooth.  Just what I needed at the end my day's adventure.  Before returning to my quaint little B&B, I leisurely strolled around the harbor in the rain, soaking the experience all in, and thinking about my grandfather and his comrades, and how they would have been strolling in this same spot 70 years ago.  Sigh,  I had finally made it. 

  

Roy Winebaugh, U.S. Army Medic

One of the most remarkable things that I continue to encounter is the closeness of the world we live in.  What is that saying?  6 degrees of separation?  Somehow, in some way, we are all connected.  This expression has proven itself again on my quest to find veterans who served in the remote Aleutian Islands during WW2.

Last November, as I was planning a local book signing for Deadliest Catch fisherman, Travis Lofland, I discovered a gal I had known for years, Rebecca,  also had family, her Grandpa,  who served in the Alaska in WW2.  And by golly, the good chap is still alive and kicking strong!

Roy Weinbaugh, 1941  Notice the uniform...
it is a WW1 uniform due to a shortage in
WW2 uniforms at that time.  

Roy Weinbaugh joined the army in December of 1941. Although, not what he expected to do in the army, he went on to serve as a medic in Alaska from February 1942- 1944.

He began his active duty in Anchorage and as the war progressed he moved on to Adak, Kiska and finally Attu.  The horrific sights he saw on Attu are things that have stayed with him all these years.  After the campaign he remained stationed in Alaska for another year before returning to Atlanta for training.

When the war was over he got his discharge and returned to his home in Arkansas to work on his family farm.  He got married, was blessed with a daughter and eventually moved his family to Michigan, where he still calls home, after accepting a job with General Motors. 

Roy and his beloved wife Ruby who passed in 2009.  

These days you can find 95 year old Roy joyously living in an independent retirement village where he spends his days socializing in different ways. Whether it is at a ballgame, berry picking or sharing smiles with ailing church members, he somehow finds a way to love the life he lives.   What an inspiration!

A youthful and handsome Roy at 94.  

Ebb and Flow

As I sat at the beach one morning contemplating how to start this come-back post it had occurred to me that any excuse I have sounds pathetic in comparison to the sacrifices the people and families that I write about endured.  Sacrifices that allow us the life of freedoms that we enjoy today.    

It is true that the natural the ebb and flow of life shifts our focus to different things when needed.  Over the last year I have chosen to place my heart and energies into a different and unexpected, but important, area.  But as of late, I have felt drawn to return to the blog.  To continue where I had left off, by honoring those who served with my Papa in Alaska during World War 2.  A while back, I had the privilege of having a retired Korean Air Force gunner as my client. The words he shared with me during our conversation re-ignited my deep desire to tell the stories of those that served.  The most wonderful thing is, the more I thought about my next post, the more people began to contact me with their loved ones stories.  The law of attraction in action is a beautiful thing.  

This mornings inspiration.

If you could have read one of my last Facebook status's, I was wishing that I could either multiply myself or add an additional 24 hours in a day to fit it all in.  I suppose that is one of life's great challenges- how to find B-A-L-A-N-C-E.  Alas, since cloning myself nor recreating Father Time is an option, I will figure out a way to find time for the several things that are dear to my heart.  I have to,  for I miss writing this blog terribly and it is because of these brave chaps I am able to write at all. 

Ok, here goes... re-start TAKE TWO... (clap).  

This picture of my Papa was graciously sent to me last week from Bob Hofland. 

 His uncle,  F/L George Talbot Schwalm and my Grandfather graduated 

together out of No.2, S.F.T.S. in Uplands, Ontario, October 1941. 

Post graduation, both joined the 111F Squadron and were stationed in Alaska. 

Watch for F/L Schwalm's story in an upcoming post.   

Jack Kotlovker

I can not emphasize enough to everyone that you just never know who has family members who served in   the Aleutian Islands in WW2.  About a month ago, I was in my daughters fourth grade classroom discussing the blog with the greatest teacher on earth, Mr. Leduc (he made me say that), when the maintenance man who had entered only a few minutes earlier, overheard us and suddenly exclaimed "My Father was stationed in Alaska in WW2!"  What an incredible coincidence or another case of, as I like to call it, Divine timing.  That started an enthusiastic discussion about the the war in Alaska.  Like so many other family members, Marc knew very little about his fathers WW2 history and even less about what went on way up north. But what he did know, he was kind enough to share with me.  

Jack Kotlovker in Kodiak, Alaska, 1942

Sgt. Jack Kotlovker was born on August 20th, 1922 in Asbury Park, New Jersey.    He entered the army in 1942 in the area of telecommunications, and morse code.  He served until 1945.   After the war, 1950, he opened a fabric and sewing machine store which is still in business today and is run by his daughter. During his time in there, Jack fell in love with Alaska and all of it's beauty and one day dreamed of going back.  He even became attached to an Alaskan dog, a cocker spaniel he named Pogie, which he brought home with him to Lakewood, New Jersey where he lived 15 happy years as the Kotlovker family dog.  Sgt. Kotlovker passed away in 1994.  
Jack was an avid leisure photographer and had many photos of his war time in Alaska. Below are just a small sampling of what his life was like in Alaska in WW2. More to come...

I have such gratitude to be in this position of honor, to tell the stories for the family members of these brave war veterans.  Thank you Marc for speaking up and sharing with me, a piece of your family's history.

RCAF F/O Louis Cochand

Along with the RCAF 111(F) Squadron, the RCAF 14(F) Squadron arrived in Umnak, AK in March, 1943 to aide in the war in Alaska.  Louis Cochand was part of that 15 strong P-40 Kittyhawk squadron. 

Flying Officer Cochand was  from St. Marguerite, Quebec.  He joined the RCAF as a fighter pilot at the age of 23 and was stationed with the 14(F) squadron bound for Alaska to help the Americans defend the continent.   His squadron recorded 14 missions comprising a total of 88 individual sorties during the campaign.  He was one of seven men in 14(F) to be awarded an American Air Medal by Major General N.E. Ladd. 

F/O Louis Cochand

"These officers, as pilots of fighter planes, participated in numerous attacks on enemy installations in the Aleutian Islands which were pressed home despite very heavy anti-aircraft fire and often under adverse weather conditions. All flights were made from advanced bases and required skillful airmenship for a successful execution of the mission.  The courage and devotion to duty of these officers reflect great credit upon themselves and the organization they are a part of. "

AAF, Major General Ladd

After the Aleutian campaign the squadron was re-designated as the 442(F) Squadron and headed off to fly spitfires in England and then Mustangs right into the heartland of Germany. For his efforts there he was decorated with the distinguished Croix de Guerre.  The recommendation said:

"This officer has completed 158 sorties over enemy territory, many of them against heavily defended ground targets, and he at all times has proven himself as exceptionally keen and aggressive.  On August 18th and 19th, Flying Officer Cochand destroyed and damaged 21 enemy vehicles bringing his total to 62 destroyed or damaged enemy vehicles since the invasion of the Continent.  The officer's courageous and determined low level attacks in the face of very intense flak have obtained many fine results and he has gained the greatest admiration and respect of all."

Report From The Aleutians (1942)

One of the first things I ordered when I started researching the war in Alaska was this 42 minute video called Report Form The Aleutians.  The video looks at the first part of the Aleutian Campaign and was made in 1942 by the U.S. government so as you can imagine, it tells a somewhat censored version of what really went on up north.  But even with the omission of important details, it is still very interesting for someone who wants to know more about some of the goings on of the campaign.  

I particularly enjoyed this because it has a lot of Air Force coverage, even though they fail to mention that the RCAF (Royal Canadian Air Force) were there as well,  fighting as one with the 11th Pursuit.  You can go along with the airmen as a camera actually accompanies one of the bombers in a mission over Kiska, which in a way, was fascinating, but at the same time equally as sad to see the destruction war inflicts.  This video allowed me to envision my grandfather's life and duties while up there and some of the things he had to endure on a day to day basis. Another interesting clip was that of the construction of the runway on Adak, designed by General Talley,  made out of steel and built by the Infantry.  It was a million and a half square feet of steel runway constructed in only 10 days. 

This is what my grandfather had to say when asked by the Canadian Department of Defense Historian, M.V. Bezeau, about his missions to Kiska from Adak in 1942 with the 11th Pursuit, commanded by Major Jack Chennault.

"The operations from Adak on Kiska were basically an escort duty until the target was reached.  One squadron of heavy bombers, B-24's, escorted by three squadrons of fighters, mainly P-40's and P-39's (12 bombers and 36 fighters).  In addition, one B-17 was assigned to photograph the results of each raid.  Once the target was reached, fighter sections (2a/c) each of which had its own targets, such as anti aircraft gun positions on the ground or on ships in the harbour, went in at low levels to eliminate any fire for the minute or so which the bombers would take to release their loads on their particular targets, motor pools, ammunition dumps, ships, barracks, ect. The fighters were then on their own to do what ever damage they could to anything that moved."

"Tactically, we flew in sections of 2 in a wide V of 10 aircraft with a cover of one aircraft on a high sweep above and a low sweep below the main group.  The sections would break off for individual section action when the situation called for it."

F/O Robert W. Lynch

RCAF 111(f) Squadron

April 22nd, 1980

This video can be purchased on Amazon.com for roughly ten dollars.

70 Years Later- It's Still A Small World

This story is exactly one reason why I am doing this blog.  I was so moved by the way this event unfolded.  I pray that this site can bring more exceptional experiences to families like the one I just shared with Grant Workman and Wally Peacock, brother of F/0 Billy Peacock.  

Billy Peacock flew with the RCAF 111 & 440 (f) Squadrons in WW2.  He was born in a town called Swastika, Ontario on April 1, 1920 and joined the 111(f) Sqn on November 25, 1941. After the war in Alaska was over, the 111 (f) squadron got recommissioned as the 440(f) and were stationed over seas where they got a chance to fly the more advanced fighters.  Sadly Billy was killed in action on May 4, 1944, when his typhoon struck a barrage balloon cable and crashed over Eastleigh, Hampshire. He was 24.  

 Bill Peacock in his P-40 Kittyhawk
RCAF 111(f) Squadron 1942

I recently got the great pleasure of communicating with his brother Wally, who was 8 when Billy died.  He shared with me that he carries around a small blue bible gifted to the Canadian figher pilot by the navy fellows: H.T. Armerding, Lt. Sherwood and Cmndr. Boggs from the USS Whicita.  In the his own inscription in the bible, the airman goes on to say that  "Bill Pigden, Ken Caldwell and self had supper and saw a show. Had wonderful time and I think the U.S. Navy is a great outfit."  dated August 2nd, 1943, Aleutian Islands, Alaska. 

RCAF F/O Billy Peacock 

So as I was preparing to write this blog about Wallys brother, the veterans name- Billy Peacock, kept repeating itself inside my head as if I had heard it before.  I got out my grandfathers flight log book and began to search for the name and that is when it hit me, there pasted into my grandfathers flight log book was a picture of a group of his fellow airmen, and Billy Peacock was one of them. 

RCAF Pilots L-R: F/O Bill Pigden,  F/O Frank Skelly,  F/O Ed Merkley,
F/S Gerry Johnson,  F/S Gordon Baird,  F/O  Bill Peacock
February, 1942 

Incredible.  I just love that this blog is beginning to connect people, which is another reason you need to share this blog with everyone and anyone you know.  I am working on word of mouth here and although you personally may not know of anyone who fought in World War 2 in Alaska, the person you pass this on to, very well may.  You never know someone's family history.  So c'mon please hit that share button and let's see if we can make some more tear jerking connections with the families of those who proudly served. 


Note: Of those six RCAF pilots who are listed above, only 1 survived WW2 and that was F/O Bill Pigden. Wow.

Canadian Troops In The Aleutians

Funny thing,  I had started writing and writing about the Canadian Military's role in the Aleutian Islands Campaign in WW2 and the post just kept on going and going.  For my taste, it was too long for one blog post so I decided I needed to break it up so that each division:  Royal Canadian Navy (RCN), Royal Canadian Army (RCA), and the Royal Canadian Air Force (RCAF) can get the recognition they deserve.

RCAF F/O Robert W. Lynch (my grandfather)
& an AAF Officer in Kodiak, AK
about to ref the troops  hockey game. 

Just like many people did not know that there was even battle fought in Alaska in WW2, even fewer knew that the Canadians were fighting right alongside the United States to defend the North American continent.  Some would say defending 'America' but the way I look at it, if Alaska was being invaded then British Columbia and Canada could have been next, maybe just as a stepping stone to the south, but a stepping stone none the less.  

When the Aleutian battle first started in June 1942, six months after Pearl Harbor, the American defense was already stretched thin due to what was going on in Europe and the Pacific and it was clear it needed to establish a stronger northern defense.  It was only natural that the Canadians were called on to help defend their continent.  In 1940, to ensure help was available when needed, the two countries along with the Soviet Union signed the Pacific Joint Agreement on Defense, which basically stated that each nation would supply troops, ships, and planes to its neighbor if thy neighbor needed to defend themselves against an enemy attack.  Of course, this would be specifically helpful to the United States in regards to the eminent threat of Japan against Alaska.  So in a nutshell, a big nutshell,  that is how Canadians became involved.

Below is a very brief summary of  each divisions contributions to the Aleutian Campaign.  

Canadian Troops disembark on Kiska 9/1943
Source-Dept of National Defense Canada 

The Royal Canadian Navy had 3 large ships, several corvettes, minesweepers and some sub chasing auxiliary vessels and not to forget, the many men needed to man those vessels.  Those ships saw duties in water as far north as Dutch Harbor to Amchitka as well as guarding the more southern waters of the inside passage.  Canadian boats were attacked, Seamen died and many were injured.

The Canadian Army were also involved from beginning to end, from guarding the inside passage where transport and military boats would pass to the final offensive mission, where 5300 Canadian troops landed with the Americans to re-take Kiska.  At least, 313 never to return home.

Royal Canadian Air Force
Source- Canada Wings

The Royal Canadian Air Force,  had approximately 500 personnel up north with at least 5 squadrons participating, No.111F, No.14F and  No.8B were stationed up north and 2 further south manning Annette Island.   Both the No. 111F and No.14F went on regular offensive missions and 11 of the dedicated and brave Canadian Airmen won American Air Medals for their service.  Many Canadian airmen were lost, not due to enemy attacks, we survived those, but due to the harsh and dangerous flying conditions in the Aleutian Islands, noted to be the worst in the world, with low ceilings, intense fog and spontaneous strong crosswinds.

Although by numbers, the Canadians may have had fewer troops but by no means were they less valuable to the success of this forgotten campaign. I can say now, having lived in both Canada and the United States, that Americans want to hold onto their pride and Canadians want to hold onto theirs, but in the end we are all North Americans and we should all feel proud that we worked together right here on our soil to keep it protected and in tact.

From the words of my grandfather, RCAF F/O Robert W. Lynch, No. 111F Squadron, when asked by historian, M.V. Bezeau "How the detachment blended into the AAF's 11th Pursuit and how were it's relations?"

"Pilots are pilots, consequently we had no trouble blending into the routine of the 11th Pursuit's operational duties.  We definitely retained our identity and our relations could not have been better."

In closing, I need to say that I am no war expert, nor author, so what I share with you, is what I have learned researching for thousands of hours (according to my 9 year old) the information about this campaign.  Along the way I have met and spoken with some wonderful people; veterans, historians, Alaskans, authors and regular joe's. Thank you all for helping me along this journey.  What fun, and it has only just begun!