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Fiery fate of Dakota 930

Bruce Valpy
Northern News Services

Yellowknife (Feb 01/06) - Dakota 930 was on a routine mission far into the freezing barrenlands on Nov. 2, 1971, when the unexpected leapt up and devoured eight good men.

At the time, 33 kilometres southeast of Paulatuk, the twin engine Canadian Forces Dakota was circling a downed plane - a single engine, six-seater Helio Courier piloted by Manley Showalter and owned by Nahanni Air Services.

Two days before, flying from Cape Parry to Yellowknife, thick clouds forced Showalter, a 10-year pilot, to land on a frozen lake. He knew where he was, but he was lost to the world until his signal was picked up by a military Twin Otter. He spent two cold nights waiting for help.

At 440 Squadron, then based in Winnipeg but in the process of transferring to Yellowknife, the 28-passenger Dakota 930 left loaded up with airmen and gear to fly north via Edmonton for Cambridge Bay, then fly west to assess Showalter's situation.

The next day, with Capt. Stan Gitzel, 28, at the controls, Dakota 930 returned with enough fuel and supplies to hold Showalter over until he could fly himself out.

The weather near Paulatuk was typically bad. Finding a hole in the clouds, Gitzel made a circular descent, preparing for the supply drop out the Dakota's back cargo doors.

That's when something happened. The Dakota lost lift, went into a sickening flat spin and careened into the rocky ground.

Helpless, Showalter watched as crashing metal sparked the on-board fuel into an instant inferno. There was no chance to save anyone in the twisted plane shrouded in rolling black smoke, furious flames crackling in the frigid Arctic air.

In memory of the lost men and a salute to their valiant profession, Northern Commander General Ramsay Withers and Yellowknife Mayor Fred Henne decided to erect a monument on Dakota Court and name an adjacent street after the pilot, Capt. Gitzel.

Seven hundred kilometres north, another monument of mortar, stone and cement was erected, tipped with a chrome ball, a highly visible marker from the air.

This summer, Ray Healey, the brother of Dakota 930's co-pilot Cliff Healey, was on a Canadian Naval Reserve ship patrolling Hudson Bay. He was there as guest of his son, Captain Scott Healey.

Ray Healey still feels the loss of his brother. "My brother - his nickname was Hawkeye - loved the North," said Healey, with emotion. "He wanted to live in Yellowknife."

For the surviving Healeys, the place their brother and uncle died takes on the same significance as where he was born, raised and lived.

They and the Canadian families of the other seven men, with 20 fatherless children, are forever connected to the North.

As for Manley Showalter, his heart was broken for being a part of the fatal chain of events, as blameless as he was. He quit flying and became a driver for General Ramsay.

Then he left the North to parts unknown, forever a part of Northern aviation history.