A Commando Entombed on Mount Rainier

They never made it, and 75 years later, they still haven’t moved from where they were found. 

The Curtis Commando was the largest twin-engine transport used in the Pacific Theater during World War II. Like the Douglas C-47, the aircraft had been designed to be an airliner. But, like most transport aircraft during the war, it was used extensively by the military in a variety of roles. The Army Air Corps—and later the Air Force—designation for the Commando was the C-46. The Navy and Marines used the designation R5C for the aircraft.

On its last flight, aircraft No. 39528 had a crew of three: 

Riding in the back of the aircraft were 29 Marines. 

The airplane had a service ceiling of 24,500 feet msl, but, as the R5C was unpressurized, it normally flew much lower when carrying passengers. 

Though World War II is over, the military presence is still pronounced on the west coast of the U.S. Post-war NAS Seattle is primarily a surplus depot and a repair station. 

The December 10 flight from San Diego to Seattle was expected to take six and a half hours. Each aircraft carried enough fuel to stay airborne for 10 hours. 

By afternoon, they had reached the Pacific Northwest—and had flown straight into the clutches of a fierce winter storm. As they entered southern Washington, the aircraft was tossed by gusting winds and encountered ice, snow, and low visibility in clouds. The pilots had the choice of turning back to sit out the weather, or pressing on in IFR conditions.

In 1946, instrument flying was in its infancy. Pilots used a radio range system as the primary means of navigation. Radio range is based on a network of radio towers transmitting directional radio signals to define specific airways in the sky. Pilots navigate by listening to a stream of automated “A” and “N” dots and dashes delivered in Morse code. The volume of the letter “A” or “N” told the pilot where they were in relation to the station—louder meant you were coming closer to the station. Pilots were required to check in with Civil Aeronautics Administration radio (the CAA is the precursor to the FAA) along the route. 

The weather was so bad that four of the aircraft in the flight of six turned around, choosing to land at Portland Airport to the south. One aircraft fought the weather all the way to Seattle. 

At about 4:12 p.m. Maj. Reilly contacted the CAA indicating he was in IFR conditions at an altitude of 9,000 feet and ice was forming on the leading edges of the wings. Reilly requested permission to climb to a higher altitude in an effort to get above the weather. 

This is the last transmission the CAA received from the aircraft. 

When Maj. Reilly failed to make the required report over Tenino, Washington, CAA radio made several attempts to reach No. 39528. When there was no answer, the search began. 

Law enforcement was alerted and military authorities started calling airports along the route, hoping that the crew had chosen to divert and land at one of them, or perhaps Maj. Reilly had put the aircraft down in a remote, off-airport location. 

As time passed, it became clear that the aircraft had been involved in an accident.

The terrain between Seattle and Portland is bordered by two mountain ranges. On the west is the Olympic Mountain Range. On the east side is the Cascade Mountains. The Cascades are dominated by Mount Rainier, which rises to an altitude of 14,411 feet msl. The Cascades have a reputation as “the world’s biggest ice maker.”

Most of the severe weather in the region comes off of the ocean, which lies to the southwest. During the majority of the flight the winds were from the south, but as the aircraft flew past Portland, the winds shifted, coming from the west and blowing in excess of 70 mph. The authorities began to theorize that the missing aircraft was blown off course and ended up well east of the intended flight plan—and headed toward Mount Rainier. 

The weather was so bad that it was unsafe to launch search-and-rescue aircraft. Investigators asked for help from the public. Some people living near Mount Rainier reported hearing the distinctive sound of the RC5’s engines but noted they could not see the aircraft because of the low clouds. It was a week before the weather improved enough for search aircraft to be launched. Ground searches were instigated as well—both came up empty.

Two weeks went by. Reluctantly, the military suspended the search, saying survival was unlikely by that point. They speculated the aircraft crashed into Mount Rainier and the wreckage had been buried by snowfall.

In July 1947, a ranger hiking on the south side of the mountain in an area known as the South Tahoma Glacier spotted a piece of metal where no metal should be. It was thought to be part of the missing aircraft. Four weeks later, search parties returned to the glacier and found more debris, which they determined came from the ill-fated RC5.

The wreckage is located at the 9,500-foot level and spread out over a quarter of a mile. Authorities determined that the fully loaded transport hit the mountain at an airspeed of approximately 180 mph.

The first items recovered were part of a seatbelt and a Marine health record belonging to one of the men who was aboard the aircraft. A knapsack containing more health records was located, but no bodies were found in the vicinity of the debris field. The recovery teams painstakingly dug in the snow and ice, looking for more wreckage and more importantly, the remains of the 32 men on board. No bodies were found, leading the authorities to determine that the bulk of the wreckage—along with the bodies of the men—were inside a crevasse or buried under snow, or a combination of both.

In early August 1947, two park rangers scouting the 10,500-foot level of the Mount Tahoma Glacier came across the crushed nose section of the Curtis R5C. They determined that the wreckage had been buried under several feet of snow. As the snow melted in the summer sun, the wreckage—and the bodies of 11 men inside the nose compartment—was revealed. The families of the 32 men on board now knew their fate.

Ironically, the Navy had planned a memorial ceremony for the families of the men lost aboard the aircraft. The ceremony took place on August 24 on a knoll at the 4,000-foot summit of Round Pass, a location that overlooks Mount Rainier and the South Tahoma Glacier. The families of 14 of the men attended the ceremony, which included a 21-gun salute, a bugler playing “Taps,” and each family received an American flag folded in the traditional triangle.

Over the next several weeks, authorities returned to the mountain with the idea of locating and recovering the remains of the 32 servicemen so that they can be brought home for burial. Experts in mountaineering were brought in to study the situation to determine the best way to proceed.

The glacier was unstable. Crevasses formed and ice bridges collapsed. There were rockslides and avalanches. While trying to reach the bodies, the recovery crews gathered personal effects such as wallets, rings, watches, and papers that belonged to the men. It was determined the removal of the bodies would take 20 workers at least two weeks, and that it would be extremely dangerous. 

The parents of the men lost are moved by the efforts to reach their sons, but recognize the danger and ask the military to abandon the recovery attempts. According to an article that appeared in the Seattle-Post Intelligencer, six families wrote a letter stating: “It is our wish that the vicinity be properly posted to defeat any efforts of curious and uninterested parties who enter near this hallowed area and that all further activity be abandoned, leaving our sons in the care of our Creator.” 

The decision is made to leave the 32 men where they lay, entombed in ice and snow. 

They are still on the mountain to this day.

Crew:

Passengers: