A bit of background to my crash landing at Kelliher:
In January, 1945, the RCAF station at Davidson, Sask. was being closed, and some of their people and stuff were being transferred to Yorkton. I don’t know what Command they were in. Anyway, “They” decided to send two of us, and our Norsemen, to help them with the transfer-as you no doubt know, Norsemen can carry a pretty good load (even with radios, etc., that we had in ours. And they were good for shorter takeoffs and landings. All that you had to do on takeoff was to jam on the brakes, put down a bit of flap, open her up with full throttle, and release the brakes-first thing you knew, you were airborne!
We had made several trips back and forth, and on the 25th I was going back to Davidson solo. As you may know, Kelliher is about half way between Davidson and Yorkton. Near Kelliher, I noticed that the oil pressure was starting to fall! I really had nowhere to go-I certainly couldn’t get to either station. There was a lake about 25 miles south of Kelliher, but I thought to myself, “25 miles, no main road, Saskatchewan in January, no thanks.”
So, I had two other choices: jump, or try a landing. If I’d had a load, or passengers, it would have been “Jump,” without much hesitation. However, I thought that I’d have a quick look around for a possible field near the town. I found one that looked OK, so decided to give it try. Meanwhile, the oil pressure continued to fall slowly.
Things were looking OK for the landing, but my engine gave out about three seconds too soon, so I ended up one field short. Unfortunately, that field had a few trees and stuff in it. I was heading west, but the trees and stuff turned me 90 degrees to the left, and put me up on my nose. As well as tearing out the gas tank and ripping off one wheel, you can see a few other little dents here and there. I ended up with a small scratch on my leg, although at least one of the radios came pretty close to the back of my head! Thank goodness for seat belts (especially double ones), even in those days! Needless to say, I exited the aircraft pretty quickly!! I guess it wasn’t my time to go.
It didn’t take long for some of the townspeople to arrive and take me into town. So, I made a few phone calls and spent the night in Kelliher. The next day I went back to Yorkton, but I don’t remember how. Then a couple of days in Yorkton with paperwork and so on, and then back to Calgary/Shepard, by train, I guess.
In those days, if you seemed all right, they didn’t bother giving you a medical, or checking you out on that type of aircraft before letting you go solo again. So, by Feb. 2, I was back up in the air in another Norseman. There’d probably be a lot more rigmarole these days, plus lots of paperwork.
It seems hard to believe that all that happened almost 61 years ago! I was 19.