LITMIR.BIZ

       Ben Eielson in the cockpit of the DeHavilland D4 in which he flew the first mail flight from Fairbanks to McGrath on February 21, 1924. Eielson was the first to fly scheduled mail runs in Alaska in a trial effort by the Post Office Department.

      The compass of Ben’s DeHavilland was forty degrees off. The airspeed indicator was inoperative, and the tachometer worked intermittently. He ignored these problems and flew on.

      He was heavily bundled in layers of wool and fur, and carried emergency gear of snowshoes, a mountain sheepskin sleeping bag, ten days provisions, axe, gun, and tools for working on the plane.

      Ben followed the Tanana River to Nenana and from there followed the dog team trail southwest. He peered down trying to spot the roadhouses and their smoke every thirty miles or so. Reaching the winding Kuskokwim River, he followed it to McGrath and landed on the Takotna River where it poured into the Kuskokwim. The flight lasted two hours and fifty minutes.

      A dog team hauled the mail to the McGrath post office. Sixty pounds of mail was returned to the plane in the dog sled for the return trip. The plane was refueled and oil added to the engine.

      Eielson had planned a quick turn-around, expecting to land at Fairbanks by dusk at around 5 p.m., but McGrath locals insisted on a celebratory banquet, which delayed his departure until 2:35 p.m.

      As dark fell he was about half way to Fairbanks and above nine-mile-long Lake Minchumina. He continued with the same heading. When he thought he should be in the vicinity of Nenana he could see no lights. He circled, peering for lights. He homed on a light at a cabin, and when it was beneath him he realized it was in a remote area.

      For an hour he was lost in the dark. Dense clouds concealed the stars; it was black dark. Only the snow-covered land gave Ben some idea of the lay of the land below. He grimly flew on, carefully searching for lights. A glimmer anywhere would do at this stage. He was going to have to land soon. Gas was running low.

      He came to a large river, followed it, saw a flare in the distance, flew to it, and discovered with great relief it was a bonfire for his benefit in front of the Rickert’s Field hangar.

      He was unable to see the edge of the landing field, for it was 6:45 p. m. and full dark as he glided for a landing. Missing the edge of the field, he struck a tree and one of the plane’s skis broke off. The plane nosed over when it hit the ground, and as the waiting crowd watched, the propeller broke.

      Fairbanksans proudly presented Eielson with a gold watch, inscribed, “C.B. Eielson—Pioneer Alaska Trail Blazer—Fairbanks to McGrath—February 21, 1924.” Fastened to the watch was a gold chain that included a gold nugget; a diamond-studded knife was attached to one end of the chain.

      He was made an honorary member of the Fairbanks Igloo of Pioneers. He gave a talk about aviation and his airmail contract to the faculty and students at the Alaska Agricultural College and School of Mines (today the University of Alaska Fairbanks).

      MORE MAIL FLIGHTS TO McGRATH

      The compass in the DeHavilland was repaired, and the airspeed indicator fixed for the second mail flight on March 1, on which he carried 252 pounds of McGrath-bound mail. It went off without a hitch.

      The third flight, on March 12, also went well. He hauled little mail, but he took thirty-five pounds of wire for the government radio station at Takotna, twenty miles from McGrath, and landed there to deliver it.

      In powdery snow the narrow tail ski sent with the DeHavilland created drag in the snow on takeoff. It was replaced by a six-inchwide, shorter ski which worked better.

      Eielson flew his fourth mail flight on March 26, and had a minor problem on landing on the Takotna river when he ran into an overflow which had been covered by snow. The ice six inches beneath was solid, and the only damage was a cracked ski, which was temporarily repaired for the return flight.

      The fifth trip, on April 9, with 300 pounds of mail, on a blue sky day, went without a hitch.

      On his sixth trip, April 23, he landed at Nenana to take on 365 pounds of mail that had arrived there by train the previous day. The last dog team over the route had left for McGrath April 5, and surface travel had ended because of breakup. The first upriver boat on the Kuskokwim River to McGrath wasn’t expected until about June 20. Eielson pointed out that breakup didn’t stop his airplane from flying.

At McGrath, William “Hosie” Hummel, the “High-powered Swede,”⁵ extremely ill, had been hauled by dog team from Takotna. There was no doctor within hundreds of miles. Ben loaded him into the DeHavilland with the mail and flew him to Fairbanks for medical care. He charged nothing.

      After landing at Fairbanks, Ben attempted a fast turn on the ground and broke the pedestal on one ski as well as the airplane’s wood propeller. In addition, the radiator was damaged when the nose of the plane hit the ground. Repairs were made.

      As Ben helped Hosie out of the cockeyed plane, the ill man reportedly said, “Yeezus, Ben! You always land like dat?”

      Snow was gone and the skis were replaced by wheels for the seventh flight on May 7, which went well.

      Flight number eight, on May 28, ended after Ben landed the DeHavilland on return to Fairbanks. He taxied the DeHavilland into a boggy spot (later spoken of as “Eielson’s soft spot”) near the center of the airfield, where the wheels sank deeply in mud. The plane flipped onto its back. Propeller, rudder and two wing struts broke.

      In the mail cockpit, passenger Charles Nystrom, of McGrath, who was making a hurried trip to the Mayo Brothers Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, for an unknown health problem, hung by his safety belt. Ben released it and his passenger promptly landed on his head. Except for a goose egg, Nystrom was all right.

      Ben broke the DeHavilland three times on eight flights. In fairness, it must be said that the big, awkward airplane was not well suited to the extreme winter conditions, or to the available landing places.

      All the spare parts needed for repairs that had been sent with the DeHavilland had been used. Local mechanics couldn’t repair it this time without sending Outside for parts.

      The Post Office Department was notified of the accident, and refused to send or finance replacement wing struts. The Assistant Postmaster General wrote, “Your experiment has been successful to a marked degree...(but) there are many things which must be done before we can continue on a permanent basis

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