Mr. & Mrs. Go North

Army airmen thundering over the treacherous Alaskan terrain frequently hear the voices of women coming over the air.

Once incredulous, they now take the phenomenon as a matter of course. The voices belong to the women of husband-&-wife teams who operate the most isolated communication stations along the country's farthest north air routes.

Married couples to run these remote stations is an idea the Civil Aeronautics Administration hit upon two years ago. The majority of single men on such assignments quit out of sheer loneliness.

About half the couples needed for Alaskan stations will be recruited right in the territory. For the rest CAA is combing the States. The inducements: good salaries (ranging around $6,000 a year per couple), rugged scenery, plenty of fresh air and adventure.

Last New Year's Eve the first contingent from the States--a dozen couples, four determined bachelors--arrived in Seward. They had been trained in code, meteorology, radio theory, air navigation. At Seward they boarded a train for Anchorage. They gazed with wonder at glaciers and snow-capped hills. They had fishing rods, guns, accordions, cameras; some of them had children.

A second contingent followed. By last week some 22 couples--including a former railroader, schoolteacher, farmer, shipyard worker, salesman, policeman--and 35 children had arrived from the States and were being distributed around the frozen northland to man the stations and keep the planes flying.

CAA provides most of their homes, which are the talk of the sourdoughs: wooden houses perched on stilts above the muskeg, equipped with hot-&-cold running water, electric refrigerators, carpets, curtains, dishes. Right outside their doors is the Alaskan wilderness.

Sometimes the "cheechakos" (tenderfoot white men) have to fight their way to their nearby stations through furious blizzards. Wolves and bears prowl the air strips and sniff around the doors.

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