Valor Friday

First Lieutenant Leon Crane, USAAF

Here’s a cool story I happened across. Lieutenant Crane’s B-24 Liberator gave out on him over Alaska in the winter. Somehow he managed to survive alone, for months, and walked his way to rescue. It’s a story that sounds worthy of a movie.

From Military.com;

How This Airman Survived 3 Months in the Alaskan Wilderness After a World War II Plane Crash

As his plane exploded in a ball of flames, Leon Crane surveyed his surroundings.

Everywhere he looked, Crane, a first lieutenant in the Army Air Forces during World War II, saw snow. What began as a routine maintenance test flight for his B-24 Liberator out of Ladd Field (now Fort Wainwright) in Fairbanks, Alaska, turned tragically wrong after an engine malfunctioned. Reaching speeds exceeding 300 mph, the heavy bomber piloted by Crane and Second Lt. Harold Hoskin spiraled out of control and crashed into a mountaintop on Dec. 21, 1943, according to the National Park Service (NPS).

Crane and Master Sgt. Richard Pompeo were able to grab parachutes and evacuate the B-24 before the accident, but Crane later said he never saw Pompeo’s parachute open, according to the journal of Arthur Jordan, an Army Air Corps lieutenant who assisted with Crane’s recovery from Ladd Field.

Crane, who did not sustain any significant injuries when he touched ground, could not locate any other members of the five-man crew, after landing in frigid conditions that NPS estimated at 40 degrees below zero.

Crane’s quest for survival in the Yukon lasted nearly three months. During that period, he battled not only frostbite but also hunger, fatigue and thoughts he might die all alone — far from his family in Philadelphia. Besides a parachute, Crane was wearing a down parka atop his flight suit, a flying cap, three pairs of socks and boots when he jumped out of the bomber. Without gloves, Crane had no protection to shield his hands from the cold.

After receiving no response when he yelled out for the other crew members, Crane tried to reach the crash site but did not make it far before having to focus on his own well-being. Maintaining a slow pace in the challenging conditions, Crane began his descent down the mountain toward the nearby Charley River, where he assembled some driftwood and started a fire.

That makeshift camp served as Crane’s home base for nine days, The New York Times reported in 1944. Bitterly cold, Crane drank water, converted pieces of wood into spears and deployed his knife to hunt squirrels, usually unsuccessfully. With Alaska averaging precious few hours of sunlight at that time of year, Crane bundled himself in his parachute and slept often to conserve his energy.

“The cold woke me up almost every two hours,” Crane reportedly recalled. “I’d unwrap myself, fetch more wood, build up the fire, rewrap myself like a silkworm in a cocoon and doze off again.”

When help didn’t come, Crane sought any sign of civilization. With each step over snow-covered rocks, he risked an injury that could further delay his potential rescue. Still, he trudged on, his hands stuffed beneath his armpits for any warmth they could provide. Because the Charley River served as his only navigational tool, Crane was reluctant at first to stray too far from its shores. As he went along, he played mind games to combat his intense hunger, like eating snow and pretending it was a milkshake, Alaska historian David Reamer wrote in the Anchorage Daily News.

Temporary relief arrived when Crane stumbled upon an abandoned cabin, where he discovered stashes of food, as well as a frying pan, rifle, canvas tents and mittens. (It is not uncommon for unlocked “bush cabins” in the Alaskan wilderness to be stocked with supplies and nonperishable food to be used by someone in cases of emergency, according to NPS and the Anchorage Daily News.) Finally with a roof over his head, Crane crammed raisins into his mouth and treated himself to hot cocoa.

He sheltered in place for six weeks, but when his food supply dwindled, Crane was left with little choice but to brave the cold again. On Feb. 12, 1944 — nearly eight weeks after the crash — Crane set out again after building a rudimentary sled that carried any remaining food and supplies. While walking on the Charley River’s surface with the heavy sled, the ice broke multiple times; in one incident, his body submerged in the bone-chilling water, Crane almost drowned, according to “81 Days Below Zero: The Incredible Survival Story of a World War II Pilot in Alaska’s Frozen Wilderness,” a biography on Leon Crane.

He stumbled upon another cabin, where he rested and collected more food before again leaving in the hopes of eventually being rescued. Forced to abandon the sled, Crane carried his limited provisions in a backpack. He kept going until a month later when, on March 9, he saw a third cabin, this one with signs that someone was living there. Its owner, a local hunter named Albert Ames, spotted an undoubtedly relieved Crane. “I’m Lt. Crane of the United States Army Air Forces,” the disheveled service member told Ames, according to Reamer’s historical account. “I’ve been in a little trouble. Boy, am I glad to see you.”

This National Park Service map shows the route that Army Air Forces Lt. Leon Crane took to survive a plane crash in the Alaskan wilderness on Dec. 21, 1943. (National Park Service photo)

Ames welcomed Crane inside, where the airman saw himself for the first time since the crash. His beard and hair were unruly, he was filthy and his skin showed the effects of extreme sun and wind exposure.

“I looked like some strange species of prehistoric man,” Crane reportedly recalled after his estimated 120-mile journey. “My eyes stared back at me from the centers of two deep black circles.”

When Crane returned to Ladd Field several days later, stunned service members took some convincing before believing it was him. While the bodies of two crew members were later recovered and some of Hoskin’s remains were identified in 2006, the remains of Pompeo (the other airman who parachuted out of the B-24) were never recovered. He is memorialized on the Military Hall of Honor website.

Crane was the only survivor. Possessing few discernible wilderness skills before the crash, Crane defied all odds and reasoning by making it back to the base. Still wearing the same tattered flight suit as when he last left Ladd Field, Crane showered, called his family, underwent a medical exam and satisfied a long-held craving.

He ordered a milkshake.

Crane’s aircraft, thanks to its remote crash site and the high latitude tundra it’s in, is preserved and can still be found. Provided you want to get off the beaten path. It can be found on Google Maps here. Here’s a recent photo of it;

Crane lived until 2002, aged 82. Post-war he married Wilma and the couple had six children. Crane worked for Boeing Vertol outside Philadelphia, and he built houses as a side gig.

Category: Air Force, Historical, Valor, WWII