George Jensen

(U.S. Army Signal Corps)

George Jensen had a much different childhood than his wife. An outgoing, reflective man, George was one of ten children who grew up on Sunnyslope Farm near the small community of Berthoud, Colorado. Because of the still-lingering grip of the Great Depression on rural America, James Jensen Sr. and wife, Katharine, lost the family farm to foreclosure proceedings in 1940. Forced off their land and emotionally devastated by this event, Katharine died at the end of the year. These events were painful memories for their son, George. Because of his family’s wartime financial difficulties, he had a gnawing dread of losing their Denver home. His worry was compounded by Mary’s deteriorating physical health.

Although George Jensen referred to his wartime experiences in Canada and Alaska as just a “fishing trip” that included all the modern amenities, the physical challenges were formidable. Few men were prepared for these northern experiences, even a farm boy from Colorado. In winter the sun barely broke above the horizon. Freezing temperatures of a minus seventy degrees Fahrenheit burned a man’s throat and lungs. For those men who were not adequately clothed, frostbite left its black imprint on hands, feet, and faces. Because of the extreme cold, water froze immediately in the outside air. At times, the cold air cracked like that of a low-caliber rifle shot. Bathing, shaving, and laundering were nearly impossible.

The bitterly cold weather wrecked mechanized equipment. The seemingly hard steel of trucks and bulldozers cracked under the stress of minus-zero temperatures. Crankcase and transmission lubricating and heating oil turned to sludge. The fuel lines for both trucks and building heaters froze because diesel fuel and gasoline contained microscopic water particles. Rubber tires broke under the cold conditions. Wheel bearings froze solid. Before garages were built to protect the vehicles, soldiers and civilian workers either left their trucks running twenty-four hours a day or built fires under the oil pans and transmission cases.

A change in seasons only brought other difficulties. Beneath the shallow growing surface, the land was permanently frozen to a depth of hundreds of feet. As warmer weather arrived, camp and road crews exposed the underlying frozen ground to the warm midnight summer’s sun. The surface was comprised only of a thin layer of sphagnum moss and decaying plant matter (muskeg), which served as an insulator for the underlying frozen earth. Recently constructed buildings warmed the underlying permafrost, which caused the structures to shift on their foundations. With the muskeg rolled back, bulldozers used along the road disappeared into the growing brown ooze. Miles of the single communications line had to be repaired because the quickly thawing surface jacked the phone poles out of the ground like slippery toothpicks. Construction work inadvertently created a nightmare that refused to go away until winter once again arrived.

Once conditions dried out in July and August, miles of the new road metamorphosed into a blinding and choking dust that smothered everything in its path. Few men dared leave camp and drive any distance without wearing goggles and a cloth mask. The warm summer months also brought swarms of mosquitoes and black flies that shadowed soldiers and civilian workers with a moving, black veil. There was no escaping these enemies. Civilian workers could leave after their contract time expired. Military personnel remained; they still had a job to complete. In completing this job, they opened the final frontier in North America.

George Jensen, U.S. Army Signal Corps

Yukon Territory, 1943-1945 

Here our greatest enemy is the cold weather, zero to a minus 70 degrees, and snow. At times men’s lives are in great jeopardy. If they have difficulties, they must take shelter in their sleeping bags at the side of the road where the sun rises briefly for only two to four hours over the southern horizon. Eternal vigilance is the price for survival in this tundra and taiga region. Where heat is gold, one must horde it close to your

body.

I hiked up Swift River, proceeded along the left bank of a tributary, and climbed a barren topped hill on my right. The banks are swept clean of trees by the spring ice flow. Lots of wild animal signs!  As far as I could see, Swift River was one roaring, dashing cataract. The trip took about five hours with no mishaps. I was probably the first white man to walk along its banks.

U.S. Army Engineers move along the new Alaska Military Road in Alberta, Canada (summer 1942)	The Canadian-American Oil Project road in Canada's wilderness Northwest Territories (fall 1944)
American pipeline workers complete a weld on the pipeline at MacMillan Pass, Northwest Territories (winter of 1943-1944	The Canadian-American pipeline project snakes across the Yukon Territory (winter of 1943-1944)
Camp 78, Yukon Territory, one of thirteen CANOL pipeline camps along the 550 mile U.S. Army pipeline	U.S. Army Signal Corps lineman repairs phone line near MacMillan Pass Northwest Territories (winter of 1944-1945)