Lost & found: One B-17

The search for a Fortress

For the crew of a Boeing B-17 from Harmon Field, Labrador, Christmas Eve 1947 arrived with a promise of all the trimmings. Flying over snow-capped Canadian mountains and virgin forests, the seven U.S. Air Force men relished the thought of returning for the holiday festivities. Their long-range mission-delivering five passengers to Greenland bases-had been completed. The personnel were urgently needed, especially since the only doctor at one base had died when he fell through the ice on a walrus hunt a few days before. The crew had taken a new doctor and his wife plus three meteorologists to Bluie Eight, Thule, Baffin Island, an early warning radar site.

The crew was commanded by Ist Lt. Chester Karney, a rated B- 17 pilot who was new to the area. Sitting in the copilot's seat was Ist Lt. Jack Bullington, who knew the territory but had never flown with Karney before-nor had most of the crew, which included two navigators--lst Lts. Ed Mann and Jim Veltri and flight engineer Staff Sgt. Jim Isaac Jr. Corp. Dale Lemon and Pvt. Clifford Thorn.rounded out the crew complement as radar operator and radioman, respectively. Two Canadians were also aboard as passengers on this return leg.

Their Flying Fortress was about three years old: officially B17G-95-DL, serial number 44-83790. A Douglas-built aircraft, it had been ordered by the Army Air Force in 1944. Now, in an independent U.S. Air Force, the not-so-old warrior was rounding out its days as a "hack" aircraft, valued for its range, which was greater than the Douglas C-47s that were more common to Greenland base command.

En route back to Goose Bay, Kamey's crew became aware that they had strayed off course. Onboard automatic-direction-finding equipment had failed, and Goose Bay's ADF was down. Without the benefit of a position fix from base, fuel increasingly became a concern. Eventually, with options running out, Karney decided to make a forced landing. He chose a wide, clear area that resembled a frozen lake but that could have been a valley strewn with boulders beneath a blanket of snow. Deciding on a wheels-up landing, he made a straight-in approach as Jack Bullington lowered the flaps.

The landing was smooth and safe and the navigators determined the landing site to be at latitude 54.28 north, longitude 66.11 west. They were on Lake Dyke, roughly 100 miles from the nearest civilization and 200 miles west/northwest of Goose Bay.

It was going to be one cold, lonely Christmas.

The team

In 1998, the effects of indifference and more than half a century had reduced the 12,000 Flying Fortress population to barely a half dozen still flying. The seven B-17s still active were in constant need of rare spare parts, so the discovery of an intact one would be cause for celebration in the global warbird community.

Don Brooks of Douglas, Georgia, knew how to seek and find lost airplanes. He had been involved with the retrieval of a Lockheed P38 Lightning from the Greenland icecap and had returned it to the U.S. for restoration. From fellow warbird enthusiast Tom Wilson, Brooks learned about 44-83790, and in 1991, he began to investigate the likelihood of finding it.

Brooks and company soon learned that the B-17 project would not be as straightforward as the P-38 retrieval had been. During that operation, both Denmark's and Greenland's home-rule governments had been downright cooperative. "The Danes were good to work with," Brooks says, "and they gave us three years' salvage rights." Later, the home government gave him exclusive rights to retrieve the Lightning, which is expected to fly in Kentucky in 2000.

By 1991, Tom Wilson had begun his search of Air Force records, concentrating on B-17s known lost in North American lakes. The Canadian federal government presumably held the rights to aircraft in riparian waters, and eventually, Brooks learned that provincial governments could claim artifacts in their lakes. Approaches were made to the Labrador provincial government, seeking the right to extract 83790 when and if found, and permission was granted to begin the search.

Brooks organized an expedition to search the Labrador peninsula. By July 1998, the team had been assembled: Brooks, his partner, Patrick Epps, and pilot/mechanics Neil Estes, Joey Hands and Bob Harless. The underwater experts were led by Bob Mester of Underwater Atmospheric Systems (a Washington State firm with worldwide credentials). Mester's crew included Crayton Fenn, Dal Neitzel and Steve Laddexperienced marine sonar operators, divers and photographers.

On Wednesday, July 29, 1998, the nine-man crew landed at Shefferville, Labrador, and unloaded Don Brooks' C-47, which had dropped parachutists during the 50th anniversary of the Normandy invasion in 1994. "We were very heavy and trimmed close to 500 pounds off the load," Mester related. Here, they off-loaded rafts, sonar equipment and camping gear and, with a de Havilland Otter, they made additional flights to the remote campsite for the rest of day one.