The last heroic flight for Alcan bush pilot Les Cook came in November 1942.
On the north bank of the White River, an enlisted surveyor of the 29th Topo unit suffered abdominal pain. A doctor diagnosed appendicitis. The soldier needed surgery right away.
His buddies strapped him to a litter and carried him to the south bank of the river, teetering on planks connecting gaps in the incomplete bridge. They loaded him into an ambulance; and it slewed and bounced down the Highway, still under construction, to the Donjek River base camp.
Doctors at the base camp contacted Whitehorse headquarters and asked for an evacuation plane as early as possible the next morning. But a violent winter storm brewed between Whitehorse and the Donjek—winds came up overnight and visibility in the swirling snow dropped to almost zero.
The plane didn’t show up.
The patient couldn’t wait. His doctors asked could someone fly two surgeons and their instruments to the Donjek.
Enter Les Cook.
Two surgeons volunteered and Les headed north. Virtually blind he guided his wind buffeted plane through the valleys and over the mountains. A line of trucks lit the small landing strip at the Donjek. Doctors and corpsmen on site had converted part of a hanger to an operating room.
The soldier lived. And, like many of Cook’s exploits, the story of this one raced the length of the highway.
One month later another Les Cook story raced the length of the road, devastating the troops, especially those of the 93rd and 340th who thought of him as their own. Les had finally pushed his luck and skill too far; crashed his plane onto a Whitehorse street. He didn’t walk away.