Atlanta Daily World

17-Year-Old Youth Tells Story Of Swamp Ordeal

(Editor's Note - Seventeen year-old William Edward Denham, Naval Airman apprentice from Danville, Ky., and Marine Corps PFC George Anderson 21, of Hague, New York, reached civilization Thursday night after wandering for six weeks in the Okefenokee swamps. Denham had lost 44 pounds, Anderson 56, but otherwise they were in good shape.
Here is Denham's story of their experience.)

BY WILLIAM E. DENHAM
(As Told To International News Service)

HOMERVILLE, Ga.-(INS)-The only thing that kept me going during those terrible weeks were thoughts of my mother and of God.
There were times, most of the times, when I thought my buddy. George Anderson, and I would not come out of the Okefenokee alive.
The whole thing started October 10 when I had 'a pass from the Jacksonville Air Station and decided to go fishing at Fargo. I never got there. I had walked so long, that when I came to a creek and found some old, half-sunk boats, I decided to do my fishing in the creek.
I bailed out a boat and set out, but the boat began sinking. I jumped and made it to the other bank, I slept in a tree. the first night and a lot of other nights.
Next morning, walking. hoping to find someone, I heard a noise and it turned out to be George.
He was fishing too and said we could go back the way he came.
But we couldn't find the way.
We wandered all that day and spent the night in a tree.
We built a raft, tying it with fishing lines and poled back across the river. This took all day. Next morning, we put the sun to our backs and started out on a straight course and it brought us to a fishing camp, Camp Stephen Foster.
There was an old man there who told us the cook had gone to town and there was no way to get there ourselves until the cook came back We drank some soda pop and decided to catch some fish for the cook to fix for us. We caught the fish right away and George said he know a special way to cook it.
George roasted the fish and we were waiting for it to cool when we heard this growling noise. We ran, and there came a bear. He was a full-sized bear. bigger than I am.
We went up a tree and the bear went for the fish. That was only the first of the bears that chased us up trees.
When it was nearly dark we thought we had better try to circle the bear and get to the boat. We waited too long. It got dark and we got completely lost. We wandered for two days, apparently in circles before we thought we heard a helicopter.
We tried to build a fire to signal but everything was wet and we could get only a small one going.
The wind broke up the smoke.
For three days in a row we heard what they tell us now was a blimp searching for us. When we couldn't signal, we were really discouraged.
We wandered for weeks--I lost track of time-eating fish and sleeping in trees and ducking bears.
One night our fire definitely scared off a bear that was coming for us. Next morning the same bear or another one charged us and the fire had burned down to nothing but ashes.
We went up a little tree, but we were so weak all the bears would have to do was shake it and we would have tumbled down. He suddenly ran off, however.
I thought I knew something about the woods. having been in them plenty in Kentucky. But that swamp was something else. We just wandered. most of the time in circles I suppose. Finally, we found what looked like an old fishing camp. There was some cornmeal and rice and potato chips and we lived off that four days, plus fish.
Some tracks left the camp but they petered out. so we went back.
For some reason the fish wouldn't bite so we ate the fish heads and entrails we had discarded before.
George and I decided a fishing camp couldn't be too far from civilization. We set out again, leaving a note with our names and addresses and asking for anyone who found it to come look for us.
Four days ago, we hit a cleared area and found a ditch that had been made by a bulldozer. We followed the dozer tracks to an old truck track and followed that.
We walked all day and yesterday after dark, with no matches left. we heard voices. We yelled and someone answered and we tried to run toward them. I staggered and fell. But it was somebody. Mr. Hilton Knight.
I was so glad I could have kissed him. He took us to his house and gave us cold biscuits and cornbread to eat. Then early today a neighbor brought us into the hospital at Homerville.
Those cold biscuits and cornbread tasted mighty good. but I haven't lost my taste for fish. I tell you those fish we ate for six weeks tasted mighty good when we knew we wouldn't have anything else.