Old Seventy; Requiem for a B-17

This article, based on a relative's personal notes and official records, appeared in the June 2009 edition of "Warbirds Magazine."

Over 12,000 B-17 variants were produced during World War II. Only a few, like the Memphis Belle, have left deep tracks in the sands of history allowing historians to follow their movements during their often brief life in the Army Air Corps. Of the “B” series only one, serial number 38-215, has left a significant trail.

Through letters, personal journals, after action reports and government records 38-215, later nicknamed “Old Seventy,” can be followed from her November, 1939 delivery at March Field to her fatal Aleutian crash July 18, 1942. During her life she played a number of roles: test platform for cold weather operations, patrol plane under Navy control, bomber and weather reconnaissance aircraft.

The B-17B series was born in the middle of the depression when the Army had to beg for each development dollar from a reluctant Congress. A direct descendant of the model 299, launched in 1935 and the 13 YB-17s, ordered for testing in 1936, the “B” series included a number of design upgrades including superchargers, a larger tail, new nose, hydraulic brakes and revised gun and bombardier positions. It is arguably the first “production” version of the B-17 and the first assigned to active bombardment groups; one on the Atlantic coast and one on the Pacific side. Only 39 B-17Bs were built and none survived the war yet they made a valuable contributions to the further development of the “C,” “D” and ultimately the first model worthy of the “Fortress” moniker, the “E” series.

Old Seventy spent the first months of her career in California, between March Field and the Sacramento Air Depot. In early 1940 orders were issued for the transfer of Old Seventy and her sister ship, 38-216, to the new Army Cold Weather Test Detachment at Ladd Field (now Fort Wainright), then under construction near Fairbanks, Alaska. The detachment would be charged with testing aircraft, equipment, maintenance procedures and other Army gear in the frigid northland. While bush and commercial pilots had been developing skills for Arctic flight operations, the Army lacked cold weather experience.

Old Seventy, 38-216 and the Cold Weather Test Detachment (CWTD) would provide that knowledge.

On April 14, 1940 Major Dale Gaffney, Lt. Marvin Walseth and 16 others were detached to Ladd to pave the way for aircraft and technicians to follow. They arrived to find a field under construction so set up their first operations in nearby Fairbanks.

At March Field technicians went to work on the two Alaska bound B-17Bs to prepare them for their Arctic assignment. Guns and bomb racks were removed, replaced with test equipment. Day-glow orange was applied to the wing tips and tails of the silver birds and a new symbol, a bomb carrying polar bear, was applied to each fuselage. Old Seventy received a large “1” on the fuselage and smaller one on the tail. 38-216 received a similar “2.”

On October 4, 1940 the two planes departed March Field carrying six officers and eighteen men. Arriving at Ladd bundled in heavy parkas they were surprised by the moderate fall weather and the lack of snow. They would soon learn why Fairbanks was selected as the cold weather test site.

Anchorage based General Simon Buckner, newly assigned Commander of the Alaska Defense Forces, favored the big plane for his frequent aerial tours and soon the planes were making appearances at remote fields all over the territory. While single engine bush planes were common, the big bombers were a novelty in the north. They were so noteworthy that on several occasions in October and November the Anchorage newspaper reported on the arrivals and departures of the planes. In one case they noted it “stayed on the ground for 15 minutes.”

In addition to testing work Old Seventy made frequent trips to Alaska’s interior, inventorying available landing sites for use in flying emergencies and in time of war. At then end of November Lt. Walseth, Gaffney’s adjutant, flew to Fort Yukon and then out over the Arctic Ocean. On December 1st he was off to Nome to pick up fur parkas and mucklucks locals were making for the Army. In a letter home he reported…“believe me, it was a great treat for all the people over there and for all of us as the field was rolly and not a foot too long. We just got in and off.”

The winter testing had fallen into a routine when tragedy stuck the small Ladd flying community. In early February Captain R. S. Freeman flew 38-216 to the Sacramento Air Depot with reports concerning the winter flight operations at Ladd. On February 6th, enroute from Sacramento to Wright Field, the plane crashed into a Nevada mountain killing all aboard. Old Seventy was now the only four engine bomber operating in the Alaska Territory.

Later that month Lt. Walseth filed a report of the first year’s activities of the Ladd CWTD. He reported that Old Seventy had flown over 324 hours in just six months at temperatures ranging from -47 degrees to +50 degrees F. During that time a number of changes had been made to the aircraft including the installation of:
· 1000 watt engine oil immersion heaters.
· A B-17C style cabin heating system with boiler units on two engines. (First orders for the “C” series planes had been placed in July of 1940)
· Six outlets for heated flying suits.
· 100 amp, type E-85, generators replacing the 50 amp models.
· Defroster for bombardier’s aiming window.

He also reported on the testing of electric flying suits from General Electric and United States Rubber. Flight crews had found them wanting for Arctic use. One had caught fire. All had cold spots and failed to maintain temperature when the generators were not producing while idling on the ground. Worse “…if a man had to leave his ship…a man with good emergency equipment and good non-heated flying clothing would have a chance of surviving….A man in … electrically

heated outfits would be helpless….”

On April 30th Ladd nearly lost its remaining B-17B. As Walseth reported after a night flight, “Almost had to leave it [the plane] as the propeller governor broke and the engine ran away. Tore itself all to pieces, cylinder broke off, etc. In fact almost completely demolished. That is about the worst experience I have had.”

Grounded until a new engine could be shipped to Ladd her next trip didn’t occur until the end of May when Old Seventy flew at 15,000 feet non-stop to Sacramento making the 2400 mile flight in eleven hours. At Sacramento she received a complete overhaul and some features from the “C” series were added. The most visible change was the replacement of the “tear drop” gun blisters on the waist with flush mounted openings that produced less drag and gave better gun angles.

After nearly a month on the ground Walseth completed Old Seventy’s trip to the lower ’48 via San Antonio, Maxwell Field and Wright Field in Dayton. In July she returned to Ladd to enjoy the last months of peace on the northern frontier.

When war was thrust upon the United States, December 7th, 1941, Old Seventy was one of the few more modern aircraft available in the Alaska territory. But since the CWTD reported directly to Wright Field, General Buckner didn’t even include it in his aircraft count. On January 3, 1942 Buckner advised Army Headquarters that “There is not at the present time a single up-to-date fighting plane in the Alaska Defense Command.” The best he could muster were “seven obsolescent medium bombing planes [B-18s] and sixteen equally outmoded pursuit planes. [P-36s]”

As 1942 progressed the Anchorage based 36th Bombardment Squadron began cobbling together a fighting force. Old Seventy was transferred to the 36th. In March a single B-17E arrived from Wright Field followed in May by three LB-30s, an export version of the B-24. All but Old Seventy had rudimentary radar. This was the air fleet ordered to the NW Sea Frontier Command at the Kodiak Navy Base in late May. The same intelligence intercepts that set up the Midway battle included warnings of a Japanese attack on Alaska. The question was, where would it occur?

Old Seventy arrived at Kodiak with Lieutenants Jack Marks and Richard Ragle at the controls. The crew was given a top secret briefing and informed they were to be assigned to Navy Patrol Wing 4 and operate from to a new, secret base on Umnak Island in the Aleutian chain. But their mission had been so secret that they’d departed Ladd with a sick engine and without bombsight, bomb shackles, guns, ammunition and other essential fighting gear. Before she could go to war she had to be converted from a test platform to a fighting ship.

She returned to Ladd on May 26th and, with ground crews working 24 hours a day, finally arrived at Umnak on June 2, ready to join the fight.

For the next six weeks Old Seventy would be in almost constant motion. The day they arrived at Umnak they were fueled, armed and, at 1800, sent on patrol looking for the Japanese fleet. Aleutian weather, which haunted most flights, forced her to fly under the 400 foot cloud ceiling. Returning at 0530, the third, they learned of the Dutch Harbor attack, refueled and took off again.

With Marks and Ragle at the controls they ran into Japanese planes returning from Dutch Harbor and the waist gunner, Sgt. K. E. Nelson, claimed a kill. He also put 50 holes in the tail of Old Seventy! Flying beneath the 250 foot ceiling they followed the retreating enemy planes and came upon what they believed was the entire Japanese fleet. They dropped their bombs under heavy clouds and returned to base.

The next few days Old Seventy was in the air more than on the ground chasing phantom fleets over the unforgiving waters. At one point she nearly attacked an island rising from the foggy mists.

On June 4th she lost her bomb bay doors when her bombs released following a violent maneuver to avoid a cloud shrouded mountain side. Later they were forced to shut down number two engine when the cowling worked loose and nearly caught the propeller. While flying at reduced speed they were jumped by Japanese planes. Only the dense cloud cover allowed them to avert disaster.

By the 6th of June the constant flying was taking a toll on her. After an early morning patrol, departing at 0435, followed by a mid-day patrol, departing at 1150, she was serviced and in the air again at 1545. Shortly after takeoff one engine failed. She turned toward Anchorage on three engines with two generators out, severe icing and two superchargers acting erratically. More generator problems finally forced Old Seventy down at the small village of Naknek at 2320.
They made emergency repairs and returned to the fight only to be disabled on the 7th by a faulty fuel transfer pump, disabled during an earlier encounter with a Japanese fighter.

On the 9th she was assigned on a bombing run to Kiska, where the Japanese were establishing a base. Old Seventy’s problems began to mount. She was too old and slow to keep up with the B-24s that were arriving to expand the strike force. Only by pushing her to the limit could she keep up with the newer, faster, planes. She made the trip on the 9th but, on the 10th, number two engine failed and she had to abort. A ground check revealed that two cylinders lacked compression. She needed a new engine and the nearest spare was at Ladd.

She returned from Ladd sporting new Army green livery, replacing the international orange paint job from her testing days. Since she was not in the same league as the newer bombers she was given a new and important solo role, weather reconnaissance and redesignated YB-17B. Weather was a nightmare in the Aleutians; low ceiling, fog, high winds. Worse, storms came from the west so flights taking off from Umnak had no idea what they would encounter on their 600 mile flight to Kiska. Old Seventy’s new job was to serve as lead scout feeding weather information back to base operations.

Former Lieutenant Walseth, now Major, took over Old Seventy in July. The pace for both aircraft and crews remained grueling. In a letter to his family Walseth reported that, “Most of our flights run around ten hours. Sometimes two or three in succession but when possible every other day. After three successive flights it takes about a week to recover, which none of us get. So we are generally quite worn down. The war we are fighting up here is a long slow process as everything depends on the weather. All the fronts move toward us so the [Japanese] sort of have an edge on us as they know what’s coming and we don’t.”

And the grind continued. Out shown by the newer, faster models, Old Seventy continued to contribute to the fight in her own, independent way. Finally, on July 18 she failed to return from a solo photo reconnaissance mission. The old lady was gone.

The diary of Lt. Billy Wheeler, of the 36th Bombardment Squadron, describes what happened. “The weather at Umnak [on the 18th] was bad as usual. The visibility was as low as 100 feet and a sea fog surrounded the island during the greater part of the day. Several days after the report of the loss, Major Walseth’s ship was found on Cape Udak, the Southwest end of Umnak Island…[The crew was] buried near the Nikolski village, a short distance from the crash scene. These were the only burials in the squadron, bodies are rarely found in our job. It was assumed that Walseth had made a landfall on Umnak and had endeavored to follow the coastline to the field. An unexpected land projection caught him. He crashed only twenty feet from the top.”

Old Seventy’s contribution to the war effort ended 32 months after it began in the California sunshine. Piloted by a succession of young men she provided valuable lessons concerning the operation of aircraft in cold climates. The groundwork she and her crew laid made life easier for those who followed and helped insure the other 12,000 B-17 aircraft truly performed like “Flying Fortresses.”

Origin of the Name “Old Seventy”

The origin of the name “Old Seventy” remains a mystery.

Major Walseth, the pilot on its ill fated last mission, never refers to the name in his correspondence. He flew the plane extensively from its arrival in Alaska in October of 1940 until the Pearl Harbor attack. In early 1942, with many pilots and only one plane, other pilots were often at her controls. In May of 1942 Captain Marks flew her on her first combat missions with Lt Ragle as co-pilot. Both Marks and Ragle refer to her as Old Seventy as do authors who wrote extensively about the Aleutian campaign.

Ragle, who survived the war, suggested that the name may have come from a radio call sign given her by the Navy during her brief stint as a Navy patrol plane in late May and early June of 1942. Even he couldn’t recall specific details.

But the name stuck. And Old Seventy, the only “B” series bomber to see extensive combat action following Pearl Harbor, will live on in history with that moniker.

Where Are They Now?

Major, later General, Gaffney remained in Alaska and took over responsibility for the Ferry Command which managed the Lend Lease program that was ferrying planes to Fairbanks where they were turned over to our Russian allies.
Lieutenant, later Captain, Ragle returned to Ladd Field and played a major role in the Ferry Command under Gaffney.
Both Gaffney and Ragle survived the war.
Lieutenant Wheeler, who left behind an extensive diary of the 36th Bombardment Sq. activities, survived the Aleutian campaign and returned to Seattle with the remnants of the Squadron after it was disbanded following victory in the Aleutians. The author has no record of his other war time activities.
Major Marks and his crew perished in a B-17E shot down on a July 17 raid over Kiska.
Major Walseth and his crew perished on a remote corner of Umnak Island the next day.
General Buckner went on to lead the 10th Army on Okinawa where he was killed in action.

Aerial Hunting of Wolves is Nothing New in Alaska

Aerial hunting of wolves is nothing new in Alaska
By Stephen Dennis, For the Fairbanks News-Miner
Published Sunday, December 14, 2008

FAIRBANKS — "I have been wondering whether wolves can be killed in mentionable numbers by ground strafing with regular Army equipment and, if this can be done, whether you will consider having some of your fliers attempt it when conditions are right.”

Crazy idea? Not when J. Sidney Rood, the General Reindeer Supervisor for Alaska suggested it in January 1941 to Major Dale Gaffney, the Commanding Officer of Ladd Field (now Fort Wainwright) in Fairbanks. In his Department of the Interior post in Nome, Rood was frustrated by the dramatic decline in the Alaska reindeer population during the 1930’s and placed much of the blame for that decline on marauding wolf packs. The wolves “have killed at least 200,000 reindeer since 1934,” Rood advised Gaffney. Something had to be done and aerial strafing seemed to be an innovative approach.

According to Department of Interior reports, wolves had been reported on the reindeer ranges since reindeer were introduced to Alaska in 1892. Single wolves or a single family occasionally would be spotted but the threat was not viewed as serious.

But Alaska reindeer populations began serious decline during the 1930’s. Alarm spread slowly at first. Government reindeer managers either didn’t notice the decline or assumed it was only a temporary situation. In May of 1933 the superintendent for the Northwestern District of the Reindeer Service wired his boss indicating that the Barrow area was facing a serious invasion by wolves. He noted that over 100 “deer” had been killed. In 1934 the Kuskokwim Unit Manager requested permission to use poison to stem the growing wolf threat. Shaktoolik, Point Hope and Newhalen stations all reported heavy losses to wolves during 1934.

By 1935 reindeer stations across Alaska were sounding the alarm. Plans were proposed to bring in professional hunters and trappers to stem the wolf tide and to educate the native population on herd management. But depression era belt tightening limited the resources available to fund extensive work.

While there may have been other factors at work in the decline of the reindeer population, attention focused on the wolf. Reindeer populations were declining and, so it seemed, the wolf populations were increasing. Logic suggested a connection between the two. The wolves had to go.

The reindeer decline wasn’t imagined. It was real. In 1969, Dean Olson, writing on the history of Alaska reindeer for the University of Alaska, Fairbanks noted that the reindeer population in Alaska declined from about 640,000 in 1932 to only 250,000 in 1940. Superintendent Rood had reason for concern.

Reindeer were important to Alaska in 1941. By Rood’s estimate, over 10,000 people, mostly natives, depended on reindeer for all or part of their food. In addition, cold weather clothing from reindeer hides was important to both the native population and to the US Army. The Army, in anticipation of a growing presence in the north, was contracting with natives for the manufacture of cold weather clothing for their troops. Rood estimated that over 34,000 reindeer hides would be required annually for clothing purposes.

“The Army has preferred reindeer parkas, because reindeer fawn skins are the warmest of light skins,” according to Rood.

If wolves were indeed the problem, why resort to air power to control them? Because, Rood reported, nothing else seemed to work. Poison was not an option. It posed risks for fox and other animals, valued by the natives. In any case, it was prohibited by the Territorial Law.

Trapping had been tried with little success. First, the natives didn’t have experience trapping wolves. Second, it was a difficult proposition in the best of circumstances. The “Newhouse No. 114 traps” were heavy and unsuited to sled travel prompting complaints by the natives. The wolves did not tend to follow trails in the wide open country so trap placement was problematical and drifting snow buried the traps. There were no trees to tie the traps to and the natives apparently lacked the patience to melt snow in sub zero conditions to anchor the traps.
While the Territory was offering a $20 wolf bounty few trappers were taking advantage of the program.

Hunting was a challenge any time. With the herd covering a range almost as large as the state of California, tracking was difficult. Roads were scarce for summer travel and winter hunting was limited by the absence of daylight and the wide open spaces.

Additionally Rood didn’t think “the guns of the Natives (in the .30-.30 lever action, open-sight class) [were] of the best type and condition for open-country wolf shooting.”

Hunting from the air, however, could overcome many of the problems. Large distances could be covered rapidly and different weapons could be used. Fighter planes, or pursuit planes as they were called in 1941, could tilt the balance against the wolves.

To prove the feasibility of aerial hunting Rood told Gaffney about his own wolf hunting experience during the spring of 1940. Flying from Kotzebue to Selawik at 1500 feet in a Stinson they spotted two wolves, contrasted clearly against the snowy backdrop. They proceeded to Selawik and switched to a Curtis Robin, feeling the slower “Robin” presented a superior shooting platform. They retraced their flight pattern and relocated the wolves. According to Rood, they descended from 1500 feet and slowed to about 75 miles per hour. Closing on the wolves they killed them with buckshot from a 12 gauge shotgun.
“Of course, I imagine it is one thing to hunt wolves from a fairly slow ship, using buckshot, but quite a different thing to use a hot pursuit ship employing machine guns, and success with the latter equipment may not be possible,” Rood advised Gaffney.

Rood had done his homework. He believed he had demonstrated that the wolves were an issue. He had shown how they could be tracked and killed from the air. Using the Army Air Corps “hot pursuit ships” as wolf hunters seemed like a good idea. The army needed practice with ground targets and the wolves needed to be controlled.

How did the Army respond? Rood’s letter made it to the desk of the Post Adjutant, Lt Walseth. There is no record of a response.

We do know the Army Air Corp in Fairbanks at the time was ill equipped to fight anything. Set up as a cold weather test facility their fleet consisted of two early model B-17 bombers, used as test platforms, several observation aircraft and a few Curtis P-37 pursuit or fighter planes.

The P-37 was a stretched out version of an older Curtis model, the P-36. To fit a new more powerful engine, the old P-36 design was stretched and the cockpit was pushed back. From the new cockpit position the pilots had a difficult time seeing well enough to land and take off, let alone hunt wolves. The planes were more of a risk to the pilots than the wolves. Only 13 of the planes were accepted by the Army before the aircraft order was cancelled. Most of the poorly designed planes made it to Alaska.

If the Army took a few shots at the wolves, they didn’t report it. It is more likely that, by the time the request made its way through “channels” Pearl Harbor had been attacked and Alaska was at war.

How about the Alaska wolf problem? Over 60 years later the debate continues. Game populations rise and fall and the wolf often gets the blame. The Alaska fish and game board continues to strive for a balance between predator and prey and the advocacy groups supporting each.

As for shooting wolves from the air; the debate continues. But don’t expect the Army or the Air Force to be called in anytime soon.

Stephen Dennis, a Seattle-based writer, has made extensive use of
personal and official records, left by the Maj. Marvin Walseth, to develop profiles and explore stories of the early flying days at Ladd Field (now Ft Wainwright.) Examples of his work are available at freelancesteve.blogspot.com.

Click Here to Link to the orginal article in the News-Miner.

Understanding Alaska to Understand Palin

On Sunday, September 21, the following appeared in the Seattle PI newspaper as a guest column. It was intended as a neutral piece addressing how those in Alaska might view the world differently from those residing in the lower 48 states. It inspired considerable on-line reaction from some who viewed it as partisan, either way. Here it is, as it appeared in that paper.

Sarah Palin's ascent to the national stage has political pundits scrambling. Who is she? What does she believe? Is she for real? While her record in public office will provide breadcrumbs for the investigative tracker, a look at Alaska and its people might contribute to an understanding of the woman. Since she has lived in Alaska nearly her entire life, the essence of the place is a part of her being.

Alaska and its people are different. Visitors may not sense the difference unless they move away from their hotels, cruise ship terminals or the airport. But if they reach out, wander the state and engage its people they will sense the differences.

First of all, it's a big place. So is Texas. But Alaska is 2 1/2 times larger. It's twice the size of the original 13 colonies combined. That wide-open space is a factor in how Alaskans view their home.

In other ways it's small. In population it ranks 47th; only three states have fewer residents. And they tend to live in small communities. Only three cities have a population of more than 10,000 and only Anchorage exceeds 100,000. Wasilla, Palin's hometown, is typical at 9,800 (not counting the newly arrived reporters.) Some argue that small towns in Alaska or any other state tend to foster a closeness not found in big city environments.

Alaska is remote from the lower 48 states and, with its great expanses of open space, its small towns are often remote from one another. Many can only be reached by sea or air.

To many on the "outside" Alaska is a land of myths perpetuated by history, television and misinformed writers.

Myth: Alaskans are hardy independent types who don't much care for outsiders.
Reality: There is a frontier independent streak evident with many locals. But they are the friendliest people I've ever met, even when you are clearly an out-of-state tourist. They are courteous drivers. They yield to pedestrians. They stop to help if you appear to have car trouble.

Myth: All the men in Alaska wear wool plaid shirts and drive rusty pickup trucks.
Reality: As for the wool plaid shirts, not so much. Most Alaska residents would not stand out at a Minnesota mall. But it does rain and snow at times and they dress for it.
Old TV shows, such as "Northern Exposure" and "Men in Trees" (neither of which were filmed in Alaska), helped form the image of the rusty Alaska pickup truck. Well, it's not true. There are certainly old trucks around. But the parking lot at the local Safeway displays a robust mix of vehicles. In an informal survey, taken on the road to Homer (population 5,400), only 22 percent of the vehicles were pickup trucks. And most were free of rust or duct tape repairs. Perhaps some were left at home because of gas prices but still, real Alaskans don't all drive trucks.

Myth: It rains or snows all the time.
Reality: It rains and snows some of the time. I suspect that a local will tell you it is what it is. Oh, they appreciate a sunny warm day and, in the summer, they get long, long sunny days. If the weather turns cold or damp, life goes on. I've watched pub patrons enjoying their beverages on the outside deck in parkas, hats and gloves because the rain had stopped and the sun was out. I watched a tai chi class on wet grass enjoying the sun and ignoring the 50-degree temperature. I've watched fishermen crowding a riverbank in their rain gear trying to coax salmon from the waters. I've seen campers parked side by side on the frozen Chena River awaiting the return of mushers during a winter dog sled race.

The residents take the weather they are given, dress for it and live their life without whining.

Myth: They drink black coffee from crockery mugs.
Reality: Some do, but they like good coffee like everyone else. Espresso stands abound; drive-through, walk-up and walk-in stands appear in towns, large and small. I saw three drive-in stands in a four-block area of remote Soldotna, a fishing town on the Kenai Peninsula. And the names reflect the state: The Coffee Boat (housed in an old fishing boat), Latte Landing (on a lake shore) and the Reel Cup (in a fishing resort.)

Myth: They don't respect the environment. They kill their wildlife, dislike wolves and support drilling for oil in ANWR.
Reality: They love and respect their environment, but not in a way easily understood by "outsiders."

They love their wildlife. They love to watch it and they love to eat some of it. By and large they are not looking for trophies to hang on a wall. They are looking for meat for the freezer. Many are subsistence hunters. For them hunting is key to eating. Others are sport hunters. They enjoy hunting but wouldn't starve if they had a bad year. But few are killing for the sake of killing. Hunting is a tradition; a fall ritual passed down through generations.

The governor hunts. That fact does not turn Alaskan heads. Lots of people hunt in Alaska because there is lots of game to hunt in Alaska. It is not conducted like a Wild West buffalo hunt. The state values the resource and manages the hunt. Bottom line, hunting is no big deal in Alaska.

As for wolf hunting, an activity Palin's state administration supports, opinions vary. In Anchorage, the largest city, you will find more support for wolves and less support for hunting most anything. But the typical small town sees wolves as an overprotected predator that threatens the rest of Alaska's wildlife heritage. In the lower 48, Palin's views on wolf hunting might be viewed as extreme. Not so in her home state.

Then there is the question of drilling for oil in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. The Alaska argument, not supported by all residents, might go like this:
First, we need the energy resource. It's there; drill now.
Second, it's good for the economy. Locals enjoy the lowest per capita taxes in the nation because of the taxes generated by the existing energy operations.
Third, it's safe. The existing pipeline has been operating for decades with little environmental impact. Drilling for and transporting oil can be done safely. The Exxon Valdez was an anomaly (they might not use that word). Post-oil-spill safety improvements have eliminated the risk of similar spills.
Finally, get over it. The Arctic region is huge. The drilling operation will impact only a pinprick-sized area of the state.

Alaska is Alaska.

Palin is from Alaska. Some of her views may seem out of place in Washington, D.C., salons but are less so in her home state. To understand the woman, it helps to understand the lens through which she views the nation. That lens was ground and colored by a life in Alaska.

As the presidential race moves to the wire, voters will learn more about the governor. And in doing so they will learn more about the other 680,000 residents who call Alaska home. We may all be better off for the experience.

Stephen Dennis is a Bellevue-based writer who has traveled extensively in Alaska.

Palin and the Wolf

In the rush to figure out who John McCain’s running mate, Governor Palin, really is Senator Obama’s operatives have been scouring her public record in Alaska. One alleged position that hit the news wires came as no surprise to the residents of her home state but seemed to shock east coast commentators.

“Palin supports wolf hunting from airplanes.”

In Washington D. C., were wolves do not run free, wolf lovers were aghast. In Alaska the love-hate relationship with wolves is older than the fifty year old state itself. Correspondence from 1941, before America went to war, illustrates that the idea of wolf hunting from the air is not a new or discredited idea.

“I have been wondering whether wolves can be killed in mentionable numbers by ground strafing with regular Army equipment and, if this can be done, whether you will consider having some of your fliers attempt it when conditions are right,” asked J. Sidney Rood, the General Reindeer Supervisor for Alaska in a January 1941 letter to the Commanding Officer of Ladd Field in Fairbanks, Alaska. In his Department of the Interior post, Rood was frustrated by the dramatic decline in the Alaska reindeer population during the 1930’s and placed much of the blame for that decline on marauding wolf packs. The wolves “…have killed at least 200,000 reindeer since 1934.” Rood stated. Something had to be done and aerial strafing seemed to be an innovative approach.

According to Department of Interior reports, wolves had been reported on the reindeer ranges since reindeer were introduced to Alaska in 1892. Single wolves or a single family occasionally would be spotted but the threat was not viewed as serious.

But Alaska reindeer populations began serious decline during the 1930’s. Alarm spread slowly at first. Government reindeer managers either didn’t notice the decline or assumed it was only a temporary situation. In May of 1933 the superintendent for the Northwestern District of the Reindeer Service wired his boss indicating that the Barrow area was facing a serious invasion by wolves. He noted that over 100 “deer” had been killed. In 1934 the Kuskokwim Unit Manager requested permission to use poison to stem the growing wolf threat. Shaktoolik, Point Hope and Newhalen stations all reported heavy losses to wolves during 1934.

By 1935 reindeer stations across Alaska were sounding the alarm. Plans were proposed to bring in professional hunters and trappers to stem the wolf tide and to educate the native population on herd management. But depression era belt tightening limited the resources available to fund the effort.

While there may have been other factors at work in the decline of the reindeer population, attention focused on the wolf. Reindeer populations were declining and the wolf populations were increasing. Logic suggested a connection between the two. The wolves had to go.

The reindeer decline wasn’t imagined. It was real. In 1969, Dean Olson, writing on the history of Alaska reindeer for the University of Alaska, Fairbanks noted that the reindeer population in Alaska declined from about 640,000 in 1932 to only 250,000 in 1940.

Reindeer were important to Alaska in 1941. By Rood’s estimate, over 10,000 people, mostly natives, depended on reindeer for all or part of their food. In addition, cold weather clothing from reindeer hides was important to both the native population and to the U.S. Army. The Army, in anticipation of a growing presence in the north, was contracting with natives for the manufacture of cold weather clothing for their troops. Rood estimated that over 34,000 reindeer hides would be required annually for clothing purposes.

“The Army has preferred reindeer parkas, because reindeer fawn skins are the warmest of light skins,” according to Rood.

If wolves were indeed the problem, why resort to air power to control them? Because, Rood reported, nothing else seemed to work.

Poison was not an option. It posed risks for fox and other animals, valued by the natives. In any case, it was prohibited by the Territorial Law.

Trapping had been tried with little success. First, the natives didn’t have experience trapping wolves. Second, it was a difficult proposition in the best of circumstances. The “…Newhouse No. 114 traps…” were heavy and unsuited to sled travel prompting complaints by the natives. The wolves did not tend to follow trails in the wide open country so trap placement was problematical and drifting snow buried the traps. There were no trees to tie the traps to and the natives apparently lacked the patience to melt snow in sub zero conditions to anchor the traps.

While the Territory was offering a $20 wolf bounty few trappers were taking advantage of the program.

Hunting was a challenge any time. With the herd covering a range almost as large as the state of California, tracking was difficult. Roads were scarce for summer travel and winter hunting was limited by the absence of daylight and the wide open spaces.

Additionally Rood didn’t think “…the guns of the Natives (in the .30-.30 lever action, open-sight class) [were] of the best type and condition for open-country wolf shooting.”

Hunting from the air, however, could overcome many of the problems. Large distances could be covered rapidly and different weapons could be used. Fighter planes, or pursuit planes as they were called in 1941, could tilt the balance against the wolves.

To prove the feasibility of aerial hunting Rood wrote about his own wolf hunting experience during the spring of 1940. Flying from Kotzebue to Selawik at 1500 feet in a small plane they spotted two wolves, contrasted clearly against the snowy backdrop. They proceeded to Selawik and switched to a Curtis Robin, feeling the slower “Robin” presented a superior shooting platform. They retraced their flight pattern and relocated the wolves. According to Rood, they descended from 1500 feet and slowed to about 75 miles per hour. Closing on the wolves they killed them with buckshot from a 12 gauge shotgun.

“Of course, I imagine it is one thing to hunt wolves from a fairly slow ship, using buckshot, but quite a different thing to use a hot pursuit ship employing machine guns, and success with the latter equipment may not be possible,” Rood observed.

Rood had done his homework. He believed he had demonstrated that the wolves were an issue. He had shown how they could be tracked and killed from the air. Using the Army Air Corps “hot pursuit ships” as wolf hunters seemed like a good idea. The army needed practice with ground targets and the wolves needed to be controlled.

How did the Army respond? Rood’s letter made it to the desk of the Post Adjutant, Lt Walseth. There is no record of a response.

We do know the Army Air Corp in Fairbanks at the time was ill equipped to fight anything. Set up as a cold weather test facility their fleet consisted of two early model B-17 bombers, several observation aircraft and a few Curtis P-37 pursuit or fighter planes.

The P-37 was a stretched out version of an older Curtis model, the P-36. To fit a new more powerful engine, the old P-36 design was stretched and the cockpit was pushed back. From the new cockpit position the pilots had a difficult time seeing well enough to land and take off, let alone hunt wolves. The planes were more of a risk to the pilots than the wolves! Only thirteen of the planes were accepted by the Army before the plane was cancelled. Most of the poorly designed planes made it to Alaska!

If the Army took a few shots at the wolves, they didn’t report it. It is more likely that, by the time the request made its way through “channels” Pearl Harbor had been attacked and Alaska was at war.

The wolf debate in Alaska continues to this day. Palin, the proud hunter, is likely well positioned to explain the wolf hunting from a plane controversy should the subject come up.

But, no matter how the U. S. election goes, locals don’t expect the Army or the Air Force to be called in anytime soon.