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April 20, 2023
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Hanna Friedlander joined the Project Recover team in 2022. After her mission with Project Recover in March 2023, she graciously offered to take the time to share with us her experience and thoughts around her first mission. Please note that we purposefully cannot publicly share details about this open case via report or photos. This is out of respect for the family of our MIA and our partnership with DPAA.
This was a dream, something I had yearned to do since I began my career as an aspiring anthropologist while pursuing my undergraduate. This dream continued through my years as a Masters student and into my professional life. I had a burning desire to work with an organization that wholeheartedly embodied the will and vision to search for, identify, and reunite missing-in-action service members with their families. I found the application to work with Project Recover in the late summer of 2022, followed the steps, completed the interviews, and was accepted to join the team early that fall. It was a long-awaited opportunity I could not have been more grateful for. I had fulfilled a dream that had blossomed years prior. A mission was issued shortly after I joined the team. I accepted and began planning, packing, and preparing. The briefing meetings began. The plane tickets were issued. The day arrived, March 16, 2023 – it was time to go on this marvelous adventure…
I stepped off the plane. It was hot, humid, rainy; it was dark, near midnight. Everyone was exhausted, myself included. We spoke briefly on the shuttle to the hotel, eagerly awaiting hotel room keys and a soft bed. Once at the hotel, some of us opted to meet at the adjoining restaurant/bar for karaoke. It didn’t seem real yet, but perhaps it was due to the lack of sleep.
The first few days of the mission allowed for orientation to our new time zone, 13 hours ahead of where I began my journeys in Michigan. We spent time getting to know one another, exploring the island – getting proper permits and meeting historic preservation officers, visiting historic canons and archaeological sites, and planning for the weeks to come when we would venture into the jungle and mangroves.
The quieted nature of strangers quickly turned into jostling commentary, jokes, stories, and friendship. With a single goal in mind, it was easy to see how Project Recover had put together this incredible team. The first few days in the mangroves were daunting – I did not know what to expect. Hiking into the mangroves, I awaited the reprieve of the shade in the mangroves…though this did not offer much relief from the heat and humidity. The days when the clouds moved in, and a slight rain or breeze rolled through, with the tide covering our shoes – those were the cool days. The ones that almost made you forget the sweltering heat, albeit for a moment. The days were long, with us swiftly moving through the mangroves, searching for anything to point us in the right direction. Crawl on your belly, Jolie would say. Get under the mangroves, go through, over, around bigger branches; whatever you need to do to stay on your line and within eye sight or sound of your team (depending on positioning, of course). These were the days, weaving a gridded pattern through the mangrove forest. And eventually, the jungle on the eastern side.
It was Day 2, I recall; we thought we got lucky. A small piece of the engine was located during one of those rainy, “cool” days. I saw it, unsure at first if my eyes were deceiving me – it blended into the base of a mangrove tree, nestled in the mud where it had been held for so long. A forgotten relic from the past, awaiting discovery or dissolution. But there it was. I think this is the first time it really hit me that I was here, looking for a MIA, so far from family and friends. Realizing how much had changed, how much time had passed, and how lost these soldiers were. We documented the object and discussed it at length. We talked about trajectories and the best possible places for where the rest of the aircraft may be. We scoured the mangroves; differing ideas and theories led us in different directions. The map we tracked our progress on slowly became more and more colorful as the days went by. It was incredible to watch how a team of 10 got so much done in the span of 2 weeks.
Yet there was more to do. Though we didn’t finish our westward expansion or find the cockpit and MIA we were looking for, we didn’t give up. When information came in pointing us east, we moved, changed plans, and started again in the jungle. It was like, “Honey! I shrunk the kids!” with how big and luscious the vegetation was. It was beautiful. But we had no luck on the east and spent our last few days exploring mangroves to the north.
We swam in a ravine that spanned the mangroves from a smaller island of mangroves. We explored that space as best as we could but found nothing. We assessed and reassessed. Our meetings would bleed into the dinner conversation; our theories continued to grow and change as days passed. Our journey was coming to an end. There was stress; we could all feel it; the wanting and yearning to find our pilot and bring him home. The hope fading – maybe next time, maybe next trip. The days flew by, and in a flash, it was time to pack our bags and go home. We packed, waited for our 3 am departure, and flew off. Leaving members at various airports to make their way home. Farewells and see-you-soons spoken.
The days, once individual and unique, blend in my mind days, weeks, months later. But the feeling, the jointness, and community of the group was and still is a powerful testament to Project Recover and the work that they do, the people who make up the team members. I focus not on our down time, or the family dinners we shared, the stray dogs we (Aldo and I) lovingly fed, the trip to Peleliu where we mournfully and celebratorily released the ashes of a departed team member (Flip Colmer), the quips and one-liners thrown about. I do not go into detail about these for any reason, except this journey was about our missing pilot, our search experience, lessons learned, and skill sets enhanced during our search for him. The other pieces blended us into a strong team, but the heart of the mission belongs to our MIA.
You didn’t come this far, to only come this far
To back up briefly before this entry ends – If you choose to believe it, then let it be read. Deep in the mangroves on the western edge, a face appeared one day in my peripheral vision. I recall thinking Dave was pranking me. I was startled by the face and screamed, only to turn around and see Dave about 10-15 feet behind me on the trail. There was no one else there. Later that night, I searched for an image of our pilot and found one from high school on Ancestry’s website. The face, the features, and the steady resemblance of the mangrove vision was brought to life on my phone screen. We discussed this at length, some in belief and others not. Believe what you will, but as a team, we all agreed that we know he is out there, waiting to be found, waiting to go home. Until next time, may we all meet again.
