The cold, bitter wind bit against his face high above the ground.
He was in an open biplane cruising at almost 100 kilometres an hour. Beside him huddled in the plane, sat another man doing his best to keep warm.
As their faces risked frostbite, the vials of medicine stored near their bodies were kept toasty warm.
Only a few days earlier they had been enjoying hot meals in heated homes.
Now they were on a frigid life-saving mission.
I’m Craig Baird and this is Canadian History Ehx.
Today, I share how those two pilots were part of a story that involved a lot of people who went above and beyond to save lives.
This is…A Race Against Death!
It’s December 1928, and Bert Logan has just arrived in his new home, Little Red River, Alberta but he doesn’t feel quite right.
Bert had spent the past few years working for the Hudson’s Bay Company at Fort Simpson, Northwest Territories which sat along the Mackenzie River.
During that time Bert and his wife felt like they were as far from civilization as one could get.
But their sacrifice and his hard work paid off.
He received a promotion and a transfer to Little Red River which was somewhat closer to civilization.
They were now 550 kilometres south of Fort Simpson, but still pretty isolated.
The only way in or out was by boat or foot.
No planes.
No trains.
No automobiles.
Before arriving at their new home, the couple took time to celebrate the promotion with a trip to Quebec to visit family and friends.
But this meant their journey back west would be in the dead of winter.
Now, as Bert unloaded their luggage, he was feeling progressively worse.
He was cold and tired.
At first Bert had brushed it off and blamed his malaise on the long journey from Quebec.
But when his throat felt like he had swallowed broken glass, and swallowing became difficult, he knew something was wrong.
Bert’s wife had training as a nurse and quickly realized he wasn’t dealing with fatigue.
She hoped her worst fears wouldn’t be true, but her instincts told her she was correct.
Bert had diphtheria.
Today, thanks to vaccines, we often forget how dangerous diseases could be.
Smallpox.
Polio.
Typhoid.
They killed millions in their day, but their dangers have been mostly eradicated, and they have become a relic of decades gone by.
Diphtheria is another biological boogeyman that once upon a time was highly contagious.
It was caused by a bacterial infection that spread between people by direct contact, through the air, or through contact with contaminated objects.
It also has a high mortality rate of about 10 percent.
Today, the disease has mostly been eradicated with only 4,500 cases worldwide.
But a century ago, as Bert Logan unloaded his luggage from their trip to Quebec, diphtheria coursed through his body.
During the 1920s, an annual estimate of 100,000 to 200,000 diphtheria cases and 13,000 to 15,000 deaths occurred in the United States and Bert likely contracted it while in Quebec and carried it to this new home.
Five years earlier, in 1923, veterinarian Gaston Ramon discovered the diphtheria toxoid, a molecule capable of neutralizing the toxin produced by diphtheria bacteria. Within a year he had conceptualized the notion of adjuvants and developed the forerunner of today’s vaccine.
But in remote Little Red River, Alberta there was little that could be done for Bert and now the rest of the community was at risk of catching the disease.
Their best hope would be inoculations.
But there was a problem.
Little Red River was 500 kilometres north of the life-saving medicine.
Edmonton held their best chance of survival and time was of the essence.
Bert’s wife asked local man William Gray and his son Bob to go immediately to Fort Vermilion to get Dr. Harold Hamman.
Despite her own knowledge, and correct diagnosis, she wouldn’t be able to convince anyone in Edmonton to send medicine without a male doctor to back her up.
William and Bob took off on the 120-kilometre journey through the dead of winter on dogsled.
They traveled on the frozen Peace River, testing the ice at various intervals and reached Fort Vermilion two days later.
They found Dr. Hamman and shared with him what Bert’s wife had told them of his condition.
The Doctor immediately understood the gravity of the situation and travelled back with William and Bob to Little Red River.
By the time they arrived, Bert Logan was on death’s door.
His breathing was laboured, and he was in and out of consciousness.
As Bert’s wife sat by his bedside, Dr. Hamman made his assessment and confirmed her diagnosis.
William and Bob waited, and soon they would embark once again on the next leg of the race against death.
Dr. Hamman stayed in Little Red River, as William and Bob Gray set out for Fort Vermilion to find Gus Clark so he could find men to take him on a 250-kilometre journey to Peace River’s telegraph office so a message could be sent to Edmonton.
Two days later, William and Bob reached Gus Clark who immediately found Joe Lafleur and William Lambert.
Both men were very experienced in the bush and knew the area well.
If anyone could make the journey south with haste, it would be them.
Joe Lafleur and William Lambert boarded their dog sled on Dec. 18.
They wore duck feather robes and bear hides to keep warm against the cold of Alberta’s north.
They carried no tents and there would be no warm beds in inns for them.
Instead, they would be sleeping under the stars in temperatures that pushed past -40 Celsius.
They took potatoes, bacon, tea, sugar, coffee, and beef for nourishment, but their first run south got off to a bad start when.
Joe Lafleur fell through ice.
William Lambert rescued him but they had to race back to Fort Vermilion so Lafleur could recover from his near-death experience.
Three days later, they left again, as temperatures hovered at -50 Celsius.
This time they made the journey without mishap and arrived at Peace River on Jan. 1, 1929.
It may have been a holiday for everyone else, but they raced to the telegraph office to relay the message they had carried for days.
It said,
“Logan, Hudson’s Bay man at Red River, 50 miles below Fort Vermilion. Bad case diphtheria, voice gone, throat paralyzed, serum old. Have started immunizing people around, but quantity limited. Several known contacts five to nine days ago with great possibility of spread. One other suspicious sore throat tonight. If possible, rush aeroplane. Good landing. No snow. If snow will clear landing strip on river both Fort Vermilion and Red River. Radio message to me when to expect plane. Send incubation apparatus, several hundred anti-toxins, toxoid for 200 hundred. Cannot leave Logan’s bedside. Real emergency. Do all possible.”
As soon as the message was sent, both men went to the hospital to recover from a severe flu, frostbite, and exhaustion.
Meanwhile, back in Little Red River, there wasn’t much to celebrate that New Year.
The mood had been solemn since
Bert Logan died on Dec. 22.
The town grieved the loss, while worrying that the disease had spread and would strike them next.
Most people stayed inside their homes in a self-imposed quarantine.
As Mrs. Logan lamented the death of her husband, Dr. Hamman waited impatiently not knowing if his message had reached Edmonton.
Meanwhile, Bert Logan’s burial had to be planned.
His wife didn’t want him buried in Little Red River.
She wanted to take him back to Quebec.
And she left with Bob and William Gray, as well as Dr. Hamman, and traveled south to Fort Vermilion with Bert’s corpse.
That journey stopped when a sudden blast of warm weather, known as a chinook, melted the river ice became and made it treacherous.
The group had no choice but to return to Little Red River to wait for better weather.
As they re-entered the settlement an RCMP officer told them they had to leave the body outside.
Dr. Hamman angrily protested and tried to convince the officer to let them in.
Bert Logan would never make it to Quebec. Instead, his body was laid to rest at an Anglican Cemetery nearby.
As Bert Logan found his final resting place, things were happening 500 kilometres away.
Dr. Hamman’s message had reached Edmonton, and they knew time was of the essence.
Medicine was needed in Little Red River and getting it there by train or dog sled would be too slow.
They needed a faster way.
And for that they turned to one of the most famous pilots in Canadian history [PAUSE]
Wilfrid Reid May, better known as Wop May, was already a legend by the time Dr. Hamman’s message reached Edmonton.
He was born in Carberry, Manitoba in 1896, and moved to Edmonton in 1902.
On the way, they stayed with family and friends; his two-year-old cousin, Mary Lumsden, could not pronounce Wilfrid and called him “Woppie” which became his nickname “Wop”.
During the First World War he joined the Canadian Expeditionary Force (CEF) in February 1916.
Although he started in the infantry, he dreamed of soaring high above the trenches as a pilot.
He eventually applied to the Royal Flying Corps and became one of the Knights of the Sky.
But he didn’t have the best start.
On his first training flight, he crashed the plane. His life as a pilot started out with a bust, but it wouldn’t last.
By April 20, 1918, Wop May had been involved in his first aerial dogfight and lived to tell the tale.
The next day he entered another battle against a German squadron known as The Flying Circus and their leader was Manfred von Richthofen.
He was the deadliest pilot, and you might know him as…The Red Baron.
He was a formidable opponent and because of May’s inexperience he was ordered to stay out of the fights and simply keep an eye out.
At around 10 a.m., the squadron attacked a group of German Triplanes.
At first, May circled above.
But when he spotted a German plane doing the same thing, he launched an attack.
In the aerial skirmish, May chased a German aircraft that fled into the middle of the dogfight, and fired on him.
The plane he was chasing was piloted by Wolfram von Richthofen, the Baron’s more inexperienced cousin,
But high above the aerial melee the Baron lurked When he saw his cousin in danger, he dove towards this brash young Canadian.
Wop May did his best to dodge the bullets of more experience pilot that had 82 aerial victories under his belt and things were not looking good.
May was being pinned down and it looked like he couldn’t escape.
That’s when Canadian pilot Arthur Brown swooped in like a First World War Han Solo and took out the Baron’s plane.
As he crashed down, Wop May lived to tell the tale.
The Red Baron did not.
Ryan Lee is the curator at the Alberta Aviation Museum.
He says that May’s legend grew from his interaction with the Red Baron
And for his part, Wop May agreed, years later he said he was able to escape because of his own inexperience.
Quote
“Richthofen was firing at me continually, and the only thing that saved me was my poor flying. I didn’t know what I was doing myself and I do not suppose that Richthofen could figure out what I was going to do.”
By the end of the war, May had figured out how to be a pilot.
He shot down 15 confirmed German aircraft and earned the Distinguished Flying Cross.
He returned to Edmonton in 1919, where he turned his attention to commercial pursuits.
He opened May Airplanes Ltd. a new venture that helped establish Canada’s first airport.
Although calling it an airport is a bit generous.
It was a simple landing strip in a farmer’s field that became known as May Field.
By September 1919, he was hired by the Edmonton Police.
Wop May would help in the manhunt of John Larson, who was accused of killing two men, one of which was a police officer.
He had fled the city and Wop May, would fly Detective James Campbell to find him.
Together, they traveled 200 kilometres west to the community of Edson where they found Larson hiding.
It wouldn’t be May’s last manhunt.
But we will get to that.
Ryan Lee says that despite Wop May’s passion and early attempts to make an aviation career happen, things slowed down and he had to push to make his dream come true.
That’s he year Wop May formed the Edmonton and North Alberta Flying Club and became a flight instructor.
By 1929 when Dr. Hamman’s desperate plea for medicine reached Edmonton; there was really only one man that could help.
Except Wop May wasn’t in Edmonton, he was 300 kilometres south in Calgary with his wife Violet.
His quiet day was interrupted by a call from a Dr. Malcolm Bow, the Deputy Minister of Health for Alberta.
May was told the urgency of the mission and its life-saving consequences.
Always ready for a new challenge, he immediately accepted.
Within an hour, May was on a train traveling north to Edmonton.
When he got to the capital, he was met by Vic Horner. a long-time friend, and companion for this mission
Horner hadn’t flown over the trenches like Wop May had but he had served his country. He was wounded at the Battle of the Somme in 1916, just as May entered the war.
After the war he joined May at the Edmonton Flying Club and became one of the most famous bush pilots in Canada.
And a day after the SOS message from Little Red River had arrived in Edmonton Wop May and Horner were on an Avro Avian.
They took off on Jan. 2, 1929, with their precious cargo.
Their departure was so quick that news of their heroic mission didn’t get out to newspapers for 24 hours.
As the plane climbed into the sky, the two men crouched in the open cockpit, trying to escape the cold wind.
Temperatures hovered around -30 Celsius the only heat in the plane came from a coal heater which wasn’t a great idea.
The blankets surrounding it soon caught fire and the heater was abandoned.
May and Horner had to keep the medicine warm above all else, so they placed the vials in their pockets, armpits, and groins to keep them warm.
Ryan Lee says they flew for three hours on that first day, following the Edmonton, Dunvegan and British Columbia Railway north.
As darkness set in, they landed at McLennan for the night after covering238 kilometres.
They were halfway to Little Red River.
As the sun rose the next day, the two men took off towards Peace River to refuel.
There was no proper airfield, but a temporary runway was made on the ice-covered river.
Landing was extra difficult because of the steel telegraph wires strung between the two riverbanks.
Like the Millennium Falcon in asteroid field May’s plane dodged wires but they weren’t out of danger yet Upon touchdown the plane slid on the ice towards the steel struts of the railway bridge.
With no other option, May pulled k back and lifted off again.
He flew under the bridge, turned around, and landed again in the opposite direction.
Wop May dodged the telegraph cables twice, just like he had dodged the Red Baron’s bullets a decade earlier.
While the plane refueled, May sent a message to Edmonton to report on the journey.
He didn’t know that their heroism was being watched.
As rural residents saw May and Horner fly over them, they sent messages back to Edmonton that were being picked up by newspapers.
A new radio station in Edmonton, CJCA, provided regular reports of the mercy flight to their listeners.
In turn the information was relayed by HAM radio operators across Canada as Newspapers filled their pages with May and Horner’s journey.
After fueling up, the two men took off once again and reached Fort Vermillion at 3pm just as a group from Little Red River arrived to greet them.
Wop May was so weak from the journey that he had to be helped off the airplane by RCMP officers.
During the flight, the condensation from his breath froze his scarf to his face, and when he took it off upon landing the skin on his lips came off with the scarf.
Both men were also suffering from frostbite.
Oblivious of the pain, May and Horner handed over the much-needed medicine to Dr. Hamman who was part of the group from Little Red River
Almost immediately inoculations began in Fort Vermilion.
That night a dance was held to celebrate the heroic pilot’s arrival and anyone entering the dance hall had to pass an RCMP inspection to prove they had received an injection of the serum.
The next day, the Little Red River party set off north and two days later, they arrived to give everyone there the vaccine.
In the end Bert Logan was the only person to die from diphtheria and in the heroic attempts once person was sadly forgotten. Bert Logan’s wife.
In my research, which included scouring Ancestry.ca, I couldn’t find her first name.
At the time, newspapers referred to women by their husband’s name.
Without the quick thinking of Mrs. Bert Logan, this story would have had a tragic ending.
Instead, her medical knowledge and quick thinking sparked what became known as the Race Against Death and it saved dozens of people.
For their effort Wop May and Vic Horner were lauded as heroes.
Once the medicine was delivered, they fueled up to begin the journey south the following day.
There was one major problem.
Fort Vermillion had no aviation fuel, so they were forced to use automobile fuel which got them to Peace River, but it wreaked havoc on the engine.
They were grounded for two days in Peace River as repairs were done and didn’t make it home to Edmonton until Jan. 7, 1929.
Ryan Lee says that Wop May and Vic Horner were greeted by an estimated 10,000 people when they finally returned from their heroic journey.
People were so eager to congratulate them that they swarmed the plane as the propeller was still spinning.
Wop May’s wife Violet said years later,
“Wop had to taxi the plane to the end of the field because the crowd was rushing the plane, and he was worried somebody would be hurt by the propeller.”
That night, a massive civic celebration was held where May and Horner were presented with engraved watches.
Ryan Lee says the flight to Fort Vermilion not only saved lives, but it also showed Edmonton and Canada the benefit of having an airfield. The Race Against Death made aviation history.
So, what happened to those involved in the Race Against Death once people were saved?
Dog sled heroes, Bob Gray also lived a quiet life until before his death in Edmonton on Nov. 22, 1986.
He was buried in Fort Vermilion, just like his father William, who died 50 years earlier.
Dr. Harold Hamman eventually relocated to Calgary. He continued to work as a doctor for the rest of his life until he died on May 9, 1987.
Piloting hero Vic Horner continued to fly supplies and people to remote areas north of Edmonton years after the race against death.
He passed away on Christmas Eve 1955 in Edmonton.
His partner Wop May had a few more adventures ahead of him.
Remember how early in his career he was hired by Edmonton police to aid in a manhunt?
Well, he did it again in 1932, in what became known as the Hunt for the Mad Trapper.
While serving a search warrant for illegal trapping on the Rat River, Constable King of the RCMP was shot and wounded by Albert Johnson.
The case became front-page news across the continent.
Wop May took to the skies to help find Johnson, who had all but vanished.
He took flight and searched the frozen land below him.
On February 13, Johnson’s tracks on a river. When the RCMP found him, a shootout erupted.
In the firefight, one officer was seriously wounded.
May landed on the frozen river, grabbed the officer, and flew him 201 kilometres to a doctor.
His quick action saved the officer’s life.
You can learn more about this story in my episode from late-2022 — I’ll post a link in my show notes.
Aside from those bush heroics Wop May also played a critical role during the Second World War.
He helped set up airfields across Canada as part of the Commonwealth Air Training Plan.
He then went on to train Para-Rescue teams in the United States which earned him a Medal of Freedom with the Bronze Palm in 1947.
About five years later Wop May was sadly grounded forever when he died of a stroke, on June 21, 1952, while hiking in Utah with his son Denny,
His name and legacy carry on.
A rock on Mars in the Endurance Crater is named after him, as is the Wopmay Fault Zone west of Hudson Bay.
In 2017, the Fort Vermilion Airport was renamed the Wop May Memorial Airport in his honour.
As I mentioned earlier not much is known about Mrs. Bert Logan after her husband’s death.
Hopefully she lived a good life. She’s the unsung hero of this story and I wish she knew the impact her quick thinking had on two different communities and hundreds of people.
