'Part Five' of Grady Gaston's official statement tells of rescue

Photo of 'Little Eva' crash site.

From the Grady Gaston File this week, I give you “Part Five” of a statement Gaston made in 1943 about his ordeal in the Australian jungle during World War II.

Regular readers of this blog will know that Grady Gaston was a native of Frisco City, Ala. who died in 1998. He is most famous for having endured an epic struggle for survival after a military plane crash in the Australian wilderness during WWII. In the early days of the war, Gaston served as the radio operator aboard the “Little Eva,” a B-24 Liberator bomber that was based out of a remote airbase in Queensland, Australia. On Dec. 2, 1942, while on their way back from their first mission, their plane was disabled during a severe thunderstorm.

As the plane began to run out of fuel, Gaston and other members of the crew parachuted from the plane moments before it crashed in a remote area of the Australian wilderness. Up to that point, Gaston had never parachuted out of anything, much less a moving plane hundreds of feet off the ground, but miraculously he survived the jump. Others were not so lucky.

Once on the ground, Gaston found himself in a group of four who began making their way west toward the coast. Over time, the men slowly began to starve to death and eventually only Gaston was left alive. An extensive search was launched for the plane and the crew, but Gaston wasn’t found until April 23, 1943 when an Aborigine found him walking on the beach. Barely alive, Gaston had survived 141 days in a wilderness that would have killed experienced bushmen and Aborigines in similar circumstances.

Gaston’s ability to survive was mostly due to the fact that he was willing to eat things that his companions would not. With no way to start a fire, he ate whatever he could catch with his bare hands, including raw snakes, frogs, fish and sand crabs. He also fought off wild dogs, drank impure water and lost 70 pounds. He would later describe his experience, which led to him being featured in “Ripley’s Believe It or Not!,” as “141 days of hell.”

Not long after his rescue, in May 1943, Gaston provided the military with an official statement of what happened to him and his colleagues in the Australian jungle, and today I provide you with the fifth portion of that official statement. This portion of his statement picks up after his discovery by an Australian ranch hand in the fourth portion of Gaston’s statement, which can be read at http://leepeacock2010.blogspot.com/2013/04/part-four-of-grady-gastons-official.html.

The first portion of his statement can be read at http://leepeacock2010.blogspot.com/2013/03/part-i-of-gastons-official-statement.html. The second portion of his statement can be read at http://leepeacock2010.blogspot.com/2013/04/part-two-of-gastons-official-statement.html. The third portion of his statement can be read at http://leepeacock2010.blogspot.com/2013/04/part-three-of-gastons-officials.html.

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PART FIVE:

In the morning, the man fixed some “Johnnie Cakes” which were very good. After eating, he put me on one of his horses and started back to his house. It was 27 miles away and the ride was very hard for me but by taking it easy we arrived at his place late in the afternoon.

He killed a young goat that day and even though I had always heard that goat meat was not very good, it sure tasted good to me. He fixed a good meal of it and gave me lots of milk. The next morning, he killed a young bullock.

I guess I ate too much too soon because I got very sick. At the time of the crash, I weighed 168 pounds, but by now I was down to about 100 pounds. During this sick spell, he was very good to me and in three or four days I was able to start getting around a little bit.

My old tattered clothes were stiff as a board but he took them off of me and gave me some civilian clothes that were about two sizes too big. I stayed with him for two weeks during which time I gradually began to pick up weight and feel as though I could go on again. He sent me one of his boys to a police outpost located at a place called Boorolola, 75 miles away.

It was the first case the police had handled in seven years. At the time there were about 15 to 20 Australian soldiers on patrol duty in that section. With the aid of the black boy as a guide, they blazed a trail through country where no vehicle had ever traveled and after two and one half days of hard work they reached the place where I was.

They then went on to the cabin I had used and picked up the bodies of Lt. Dyer and Lt. Speltz after which we went to the town of Boorolola which consisted of just eight men, mostly natives. This was May 4. I stayed with the policeman for a day or two while he arranged to have a small airplane pick me up at a place called Anthony’s Lagoon.

The soldiers put me in their truck and drove 185 miles to the small field where the airplane would land. The plane arrived the next day. We flew to a place called Camoweal where we spent the night, and the next day he took me on to Cloncurry.

Everyone there was very nice to me. I had intended to keep my long beard and hair until I could join some of my former friends but the barber insisted that I let him cut it off which I did. The whole town was very good to me, giving me money, clothing or anything that I might need and taking me to their homes for meals.

I had been in Cloncurry a couple of days when on May 11, some American officers stopped at the hotel and asked for me. They gave me a bundle of clothing and told me that Capt. N.J. Foster of San Antonio, Texas (member of my organization) had sent them and made arrangements for their airplane to pick me up on its return trip the next day. That day and night seemed like a very long time to me, but at noon the following day they returned for me. I don’t believe I was any happier at seeing anyone in my life as I was that group of American officers and enlisted men.

Their names were C.O. Roy Schultz, pilot of San Antonio, Texas; F.O. Henry C. Ellis, Co-pilot, New Boston, Texas; Lt. James R. Laughlin, navigator, Covinth, Mississippi; Lt. Jabobson, intelligence officer, Boston, Mass.; S.Sgt. Warren Fuhrman, engineer, St. Paul, Minn.; Cpl. Leroy Nolan, radio operator, Long Island, N.Y.

We took off from Cloncurry at about 1:30 p.m. May 12 and arrived in Townsville at about 5:30 p.m. where Capt. Foster met me and brought me to the hospital, where I now am slowly recovering. I have since seen my former pilot, Lt. Grosson, who told me there was Sgt. Roy L. Wilson, Columbus, Ohio, one of our gunners who had been picked up with him on Dec. 18. I was very happy to know that at least some of our crew had been saved.

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Today’s post completes a five-part series of weekly posts on Gaston’s official statement, and if you’d like to read his entire statement, you can view it at www.dropbears.com/a/aviation/docs/SgtGradyGaston-LittleEva.pdf. If you’re interested in more details about Gaston’s ordeal, I’d also encourage you to read “The Crash of Little Eva: The Ultimate World War II Survivor Story” by Barry Ralph, which was originally published in November 2004 by the University of Queensland Press in Australia.

In the end, how many of you remember Grady Gaston? Do you have any memories of Gaston that you’d like to share? Let us know in the comments section below.