Roll Over Play Dead

by Dan Milton

  “Pam, thanks for caring.”

  Three weeks had passed since the MV-TRAVIS BOYD disappeared. Those searching did not found anything from the wreckage or any trace of those who were on the boat. Pilots flew over the area and spotted nothing. The fishing boats searched every day. It became hopeless. The weather got progressively worse. With an early winter coming, it became too dangerous to continue the search. Those wishing to search could do nothing until next spring. Everyone assumed the worst.

  A Small Russian Village – late spring 1945

  The early spring thaw was just beginning in the refugee settlement outside Kuybyshev. The sun was staying out longer each day. The warmth of the sun felt good. The tide of the battle had turned, and the fighting was back on German soil. Rumor had it that the war would soon be over. There was talk that the refugees would be able to return to their villages soon. Everyone had lost weight. There was not enough food to go around. The strength was ebbing from some of the older ones.

  Mikhail, the Bepa Village Elder, was talking to his daughter Alexandra just outside their settlement housing unit. He said, “It looks like we may be able to head home soon. Spread the word to all those from our village that they should begin to pack up whatever they have. Also, it would be good to gather any extra food and water. There is not going to be much at home.”

  “Father, I will talk to everyone today. Will we have to walk back? If so, it will be very tiring for the old people. I’m afraid some won’t make it.”

  “You mean me!”

  “No father, not you, some of the others!

  Mikhail said, “No matter! I heard rumors that there may be trucks available for us to ride home. It would be so much easier on all of us. Also, don’t forget the goats. Grigory has done a marvelous job with them. Almost our entire herd has survived thanks to him. When we get home, we will contact some of the neighboring villages. We may be able to trade some of the goats for a milk cow.”

  Alexandra added, “It has been so long since we heard from Father Alexander and Tasha. I hope they are okay. It will be so nice to have them home. Have you heard anything more about your son Pyotr? Is there any further news of your grandson Alexei?”

  “The most recent report from Father Alexander and Tasha is that the field hospital has been moving forward with the advancing Russian Army. They have both been very busy caring for the wounded. The fighting has been very severe as the Russians fought from town to town on their march to Berlin. I have not had any further news from Pyotr. He is at the front commanding an infantry company. The latest news of Alexei was from Father Kirill. He said that Alexei had arrived in Molotov, had exchanged the gold for diamonds, and had boarded the Trans-Siberian Railway for Vladivostok.”

  “Father, I will make the rounds and let our people know what to expect in the next few days.”

  “Take Grigory with you. He needs to spend a little time away from the goats before he turns into one!”

  “Okay father.”

  As Alexandra walked to the goat pens to get Grigory, she thought: He has such a natural way with the animals. It is as if they know he is blind. They follow him everywhere and come when he calls them. He gave each one a name and placed a little bell on each of their collars in order to keep track of them.

  Alexandra called out, “Grigory will you come with me. We have to visit everyone in the village and get them started packing for the trip home.”

  “Are we leaving soon?”

  “Father thinks so and, we may get to ride home in trucks. The goats will too. Won’t that be great?”

  Alexandra and Grigory made the rounds of everyone from the village and told them to get ready. The good news lifted the spirits of all the villagers as it renewed their hope. Though their village was poor, it was still home, and everyone longed to be there.

  A week later, Army trucks arrived, and Mikhail passed the word that the trucks would be transporting people to several villages including Bepa. Shouts of joy could be heard all over the settlement. They could now look forward to returning home. It was no longer just hope.

  The trucks began loading the refugees. Included was a unique vehicle for the Bepa village goats. Grigory, of course, had to ride with them. The Army truck drivers and soldiers were especially kind to the villagers knowing how much they had suffered because of the war. The villagers also noted that most of the Army personnel helping them had also suffered the wounds of war. None of the villager’s eyes were dry as they climbed into the trucks.

  They proceeded on the main road to Saratov on their way to Bepa. Since the roads lacked repair because of the many bombings, the way home was very slow. In several places, the trucks had to make a detour around bridges that were out. What should have been just days took almost a week to get to Bepa. They had been fortunate to find a Red Cross aid station in Saratov, which replenished their food and water supplies. Even so, when they arrived home, they had little left.

  As they drove past the cemetery on their way into Bepa, Mikhail noticed the condition of the Village. Though the village missed most of the German shelling, it had been looted and scavenged. Smashed doors and scattered furniture greeted the villagers. Everything was a mess.

  After everyone had unloaded their belongings from the trucks, Mikhail called the village occupants together. As they bid farewell and good wishes to the soldiers who had transported them, Mikhail took control of the situation. He said, “Go to your homes and drop off whatever you have. Do not worry about cleaning up your homes for now. Come back here as soon as you can. We have a lot of work to do.”

  A little later, as the villagers gathered, in a somewhat deflated mood, Mikhail said, “We’ll break into smaller work groups. One team, you five, start work on the well. We must have water. Remember to boil the water until we know it is safe. You six, scour the gardens, gather any potatoes or vegetables. Grigory, get the goats situated. The rest of you, gather whatever wood you can. Get your ovens ready. With the flour the Red Cross gave us we will at least be able to bake bread and, if necessary, survive on it. Once we have completed these tasks, go home and get your places cleaned up and the furniture back into your homes. Tomorrow we will need everyone out to begin getting the gardens ready for planting.”

  As the villagers went about their assigned tasks, the somber mood was replaced with one of energetic hope. They had survived. They were home. All would be good once their fellow villagers, who had gone to war, came home safely.

  In May, the unconditional surrender agreement was signed. In the intervening weeks, the activities in the village had almost returned to normal. Mikhail heard a truck coming up the lane past the cemetery. He and Alexandra rushed out to meet it. As they looked inside the cab, they noticed Pyotr sitting in the front seat. When he stepped out they saw that his arm was in a sling, and he had a bandage wrapped around his head. Even so, his smile went from ear to ear though his eyes had a very dark blank stare. Mikhail shouted, “Pyotr, Pyotr, you are home and safe. Thank God.”

  Mikhail and Pyotr hugged warmly as the rest of the village gathered around to welcome him home. Alexandra threw her arms around both of them as tears streamed down her cheeks.

  Pyotr said, “They let me off early to come home and recuperate. The hospitals are full. It is good to be away from the carnage and be home. I look forward to getting back on my feet and helping out wherever I can. It appears as though the village did not suffer too much damage. Has Father Alexander or Tasha come home yet? Have you heard from Alexei? Did he make it to Alaska? When can we get him home?”

  Mikhail said, “We have heard nothing recently from Father Alexander or Tasha. The field hospital kept moving as the Army moved forward. They had to care for so many casualties. The last I heard of Alexei is that he was okay and on his way to Vladivostok where he was to connect with a freighter making its way to Alaska.”

  A week later, a truck with a red cross on its side was heard coming up the lane to the village. Grigory shouted to Alexandra, “A truck is coming.”

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nbsp; Alexandra said, “Grigory, go get Mikhail and Pyotr.”

  After the truck had pulled to a stop, Tasha got out. Her face was somber. She looked more mature than her years. Her eyes reflected that she had been crying continuously for days. She and Alexandra hugged warmly. Just then, and out of breath, Grigory, Mikhail and Pyotr appeared. Alexandra asked, “Tasha. What’s the matter? Where is Father Alexander?”

  Tasha answered, “Father Alexander died a week ago.”

  As the villagers gathered around to welcome Tasha back, they noticed the somber mood. As they heard the news of Father Alexander, shock set in, and silence took over. Then the sobs began as the whole village realized that Father Alexander was not coming back.

  Mikhail asked, “Tasha, what happened?”

  “It was a freak accident. After the last surgery of the day, Father Alexander had gone out of the tent to catch a breath of fresh air. I had stayed inside to clean up. As he was standing outside, an ambulance driver came up and said that there was an officer in his ambulance that had sustained a direct hit from a rifle grenade. The shell, lodged in the soldier’s stomach, had not gone off. The officer was still alive, but in an enormous amount of pain. Told that the bomb removal people were on their way, he knew to stay out of the ambulance until they arrived. But, it was not in Father Alexander’s nature to let the officer suffer any further. He went back into the dispensary, got a syringe of morphine and headed for the ambulance. As he arrived there, he cautiously opened the back door. He stepped up into the ambulance. He grasped the officer’s arm and inserted the needle. As he did so, there was a massive explosion when the grenade went off killing both the officer and Father Alexander instantly.”

  It took weeks for the village to get over the shock of Father Alexander’s death. Grigory took the news the hardest. If it had not been for the goats and the responsibility he had to take care of them he would have died of a broken heart. He talked to the goats endlessly about his adopted father until the tears stopped coming. Then he decided that Father Alexander would want him to carry on and he knew he would.

  As the villagers came back to what would be a reasonable condition considering all that they had gone through, communication was restored with the outside world.

  A state post truck, with mail that was as much as six months old, pulled into Bepa. Mikhail talked with the driver and collected the mail from him. The driver filled Mikhail in on the news of nearby villages and then departed for the next village on his route.

  Mikhail took the mail and delivered the dozen or so letters. There was a letter sent to him from Father Stepan Potanin. It included a letter from his niece, Pamela Potan, with the news that Alexei had disappeared on Lake Iliamna and had not reached the community of Kokhanok. Pamela described the efforts to locate the boat that Alexei had left on. Winter weather had made any further searching impossible until spring. There was a second letter also addressed to Mikhail. It was also from Father Stepan, posted recently. It contained a note from Pamela that they had found the body of the Captain of the boat Alexei had been on in a small bay after the ice had melted. There was still no sign of Alexei. The assumption was that he had drowned or died of exposure when the boat sank in a storm.

  News of Alexei’s disappearance spread throughout the village rapidly. All the villagers gathered outside Mikhail’s home. Mikhail and Pyotr came outside to face the stunned villagers.

  Someone in the crowd voiced the common concern, “What of the wealth of the village. Is it also gone?”

  Summer of ‘61 – Lake Iliamna

  It was a bright day in early June of 1961 that the old, but solidly built, DC-3 traversed the airspace between Anchorage and Lake Iliamna. This DC-3, a real workhorse, had been in service some 25 years. Ernie Donald sat in the aisle seat about halfway back from the pilot’s compartment. Sitting next to him in the window seat, and the only other person on the plane, was Jeff Roberts. Both were experienced SCUBA divers who would put their training to good use during the next few months. Ernie had just finished his degree in Aeronautical Engineering at Texas A&M and would be starting graduate school, studying Physical Oceanography, in the fall. Jeff was a Marine Biologist in his third year of graduate school at the same University that Ernie would be attending.

  Ernie learned his diving skills at Mel’s Aqua Shop in Redondo Beach, California. He honed his skills in the Pacific Ocean off California, the Gulf of Mexico and in the Sea of Cortez. Jeff had spent most of his diving time in the Puget Sound. Ernie and Jeff had met while diving with the Puget Sounder Diving Club.

  The left side of the DC-3 had no passenger seats. The area was taken up with cargo that included the support equipment and diving gear that Ernie and Jeff brought with them. They had checked and rechecked the list of equipment to make sure they would be able to handle any ‘routine’ problems. They would be isolated for most of the summer so they would have to depend for repairs on what they brought with them.

  Directly on Ernie’s left, in gray boxes labeled US Navy, sat the most important piece of equipment they brought with them. It had been tied down securely under Jeff’s direct supervision. The long box contained that which would involve the two of them for most of the summer. It was part of a secret project for the Navy’s continuing upgrade of their towed sonar capability. Ernie and Jeff had spent the week before they left for Alaska at the Puget Sound Naval Shipyard getting briefed by Commander Carothers and his staff on the project goals, the equipment functionality, and the testing methodology.

  Since graduating from the US Naval Academy with a degree in Naval Engineering, Commander Carothers has worked continuously at the Naval Shipyard, except for the occasional month or so at sea to test the latest development. He began his career as an engineer on the design team for a new type of naval destroyer. He advanced through the years until his current appointment as the head of Special Projects.

  The pilot of the DC-3 turned and shouted, “We will be landing soon. Better fasten your seat belts.” After a full sweeping turn, the pilot lined up with the runway, put the flaps down and floated in for a smooth landing on the gravel strip. The plane came to a stop about three quarters down the length of the runway, made a u-turn and headed back to the gravel pad just off the takeoff area. A van was waiting to carry their cargo to Iliamna’s dock where the boat they leased would be waiting. It took almost an hour to unload the cargo from the aircraft and load it into the van. All three pitched in to get the job done. The crated US Navy equipment was the last that they loaded into the van.

  Arriving at the dock, after a short drive from the airfield, Ernie checked the boat while Jeff began unloading their equipment and stowing it on the boat. Ernie started the boat’s diesel engine and let it idle while he examined the rest of the engine compartment. He said to Jeff, “Looks like everything we wanted is here. The engine runs okay, and the fuel tanks are full. After we finish stowing our gear, let’s drive the van to the Lodge and finish unloading the van. The pilot asked us to join him for dinner. It will be the last good meal we will probably have. I don’t know how good a cook you are, but I need improving.”

  At dinner, over a great home cooked meal, Ernie asked the pilot how long he had been flying and what brought him to Alaska. He said, “I was in the Army Air Corp during the war and flew cargo missions in the Pacific theater. After the war, the airlines were looking for pilots, and they hired me. I flew for a while in the Pacific Northwest, and when an opening became available to fly out of Anchorage, I jumped at it.” The pilot leaned forward and said, “How about you two?”

  Ernie answered, “We’ll be spending the summer on Lake Iliamna and Lake Clark testing some equipment. We’ll be linking up with the University Research Team that will be conducting salmon research on the lake. They’ll be flying in next week. Their boat is the one tied up behind ours. I grew up in Texas and will be attending graduate school this coming fall along with Jeff. I am an Engineer studying Oceanography and Jeff is a Marine Biologist. Jeff grew up in the Pacific Northwest.” />
  The pilot said, “I noticed you had a lot of diving gear and a compressor. Do you plan to do much diving in the lake?”

  Ernie responded, “Yes. I understand the water is frigid even in the summer.”

  “I hope you have good wetsuits. You’ll need them.”

  There were several other parties also having dinner in the Lodge. The conversations were about the fish they had caught, or almost caught, during the day and where they would be fishing tomorrow.

  One lone middle-aged man, dressed in hunting gear, sat drinking coffee at the next table. He seemed to be interested in the conversation at Ernie’s and Jeff’s table. Jeff said, “I’m going to grab some more coffee. Anyone else want some?”

  “No thanks,” echoed the pilot and Ernie.

  When Jeff returned, he said hello to the man sitting next to them and asked how the hunting was going and if he was enjoying his stay at the Lodge. The man answered that he had not yet found that for which he was looking. He said, “The lodge is very pleasant, though.” Jeff detected a slight accent. The man said, “Think I’ll stretch my legs a bit and then turn-in. I expect a big day tomorrow.” He got up and walked out the front door of the Lodge like a man who was totally sure of himself.

  About an hour later, Ernie and Jeff bid their goodbyes to the pilot. They walked to the dock for their first night on a 45 foot open-water fishing boat. It could do a steady 12 knots. Not fast, but okay for the testing they had to do. It had a mast and boom with a power winch for hauling equipment out of the water. The radio was in good working order. There was also a Simrad Echo Sounder to verify depth. The living conditions were tight but would be manageable for a few months. There were sleeping bunks and a head up front. There was a galley in front of the pilot house.

  They stowed their personal gear and then sat down in the galley to make plans to get underway in the morning. Ernie grabbed the new log book to make the first entry. The log book was significant to their research since they would record all events and results. Ernie said, “I promised the pilot we would help him load early tomorrow morning. We will leave right after that.”