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[{"type":"text","text":"New respect for Bryan Adams after this....."}]

Bonus vid 1 4 7 26

Cowboy State Daily is Wyoming’s largest newspaper with Wyoming’s most experienced journalists. 

<title>Bonus Video 1: Tuesday, April 7, 2026 | Cowboy State Daily</title>

New respect for Bryan Adams after this.....

Bonus Video 1: Tuesday, April 7, 2026

 New respect for Bryan Adams after this.....

Headshot of Cowboy State Daily reporter, Jackie Dorothy.

Jackie Dorothy

Wyoming Life

Around Wyoming

Editor's note: This story includes graphic and disturbing descriptions of torture and inhumane prisoner of war conditions. Read at your discretion. 

After more than 80 years, a 32-year-old Casper man believed to have been killed as a prisoner of war aboard one of the infamous Japanese “hell ships” during World War II may finally be close to being found. 

John Clarke Goldtrap, a young husband and father, was listed by his captors as one of the 284 Americans who died after the Japanese hell ship the Oryoku Maru was destroyed on Dec. 15, 1944.

The POW transport ship sunk to the bottom of the ocean and has remained there, virtually undisturbed, until now.

The Defense POW/MIA Accounting Agency (DPAA), working with the Navy and the Philippine government, are 

Divers have recovered American military footwear, an identification bracelet, broken eyeglasses, medical equipment and material that may be human bone. 

[{"type":"text","text":"The work is expected to continue in the coming year."}]

The DPAA said that the recovery effort has significant challenges that will require its team to employ advanced underwater recovery and identification techniques to ensure the mission is conducted with the utmost care and dignity.

Modern archaeology and DNA testing may then restore names to some of those remains, correct wartime records and allow families to bury men who have been listed officially as missing for nearly 82 years. 

For Goldtrap, it could finally reveal whether he died inside one the hell ship, in the water or after reaching shore. 

It is the fulfillment of the promise made to American servicemen that those missing in action will not be forgotten.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Sinking The Oroku Maru"}]

The air strike in which Goldtrap was killed is known as the Oroyku Maru Disaster because it was Allies who sunk the ship. 

Another Wyoming solider, Staff Sgt. Joseph Henry Robertson of Rock Springs, survived by swimming to shore and enduring another hellish eight months as a prisoner of war of the Japanese.

According to the Department of the Army, on Dec. 13, 1944, Japanese forces in the Philippines began the transfer of 1,621 Allied prisoners of war to Japan.

Goldtrap, Robertson and the other POWs were to make the journey aboard transport ships whose harsh conditions and extreme overcrowding led survivors to refer to them as “hell ships.” 

These ships lacked markings that would distinguish them from any other military target and were often attacked by Allied forces who could not identify them as POW transports.

On Dec. 14, 1944, Allied aircraft attacked the first of these transport ship, the Oryoku Maru, in Subic Bay in the Philippines, killing many of Allied POWs on board. 

War crimes were committed on that day as Japanese soldiers shot many of the escaping prisoners as they tried to swim to safety, while others drowned in the attempt.  

, the officer was listed as dead by his Japanese captors, but the information was unreliable since the first number of dead was listed as “about 250.”  

As a commanding officer, Goldtrap was confined in the ship’s rear hold, although it is unknown just how he met his death.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Worse Than Bataan Death March"}]

The stories shared by hell ship survivors paint a horrific picture of human brutality and suffering.

Ben Skardon was one of these men packed into the rear hold of the Oroku Maru where Goldtrap was believed to have been kept.

In a 2015 interview with the National World War II Museum, Skardon said that it was total chaos of the worst type as they were loaded into the hold.

He had found a spot pressed against another soldier on the floor, “one in the crotch of the other.” 

All around him, men were breaking down, going crazy, yelling and pleading. Skardon passed out from lack of oxygen and others helped move him to where he could get air.

Many of the men on the Oryoku Maru had survived the Bataan Death March and described the conditions crammed into the ship a living hell, worse than the infamous march.  

First-person accounts were preserved in the book “The Rising Sun” by John Toland from men who kept forbidden journals and recorded the hell they barely survived.

Major Virgil McCollum, wrote Toland, was a veteran of Bataan who said the hell ship was “the most horrible experience imaginable and probably unprecedented in the annals of civilization.” 

As the dim light of dawn filtered through the hatch, several score bodies lay lifeless — suffocated or murdered.

“Many men lost their minds,” a colonel later wrote in his official report, “and crawled about in the absolute darkness armed with knives, attempting to kill people in order to drink their blood or armed with canteens filled with urine and swinging them in the dark.”

Major Roy L. Bodine would have been in the same hold as Robertson, packed amidships, three decks down with 300 Army and Navy medics and civilians. 

He described the constant prayers and the chaos that quickly took over as men went mad from lack of water, oxygen and sanitation.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Waiting For Rescue Or Death"}]

Another American soldier, Lt. Col. Curtis Beecher, was in the forward hold which had just recently transported horses and had never been cleaned.

Within moments, the 700 men crammed into the hold were drenched in sweat and, already weak from two years of imprisonment, began to go mad.

A dozen men, crazed by thirst, went berserk; they slashed at the throats and wrists of companions to suck blood. The panic turned the hold into bedlam. 

[{"type":"text","text":"Men began to drop dead, some silently while others thrashed wildly."}]

When the bombing from the Allies began on the unmarked ship, many of the POWs on board cheered. Over the deafening roar of the attacks, men prayed and waited for rescue or death.

As the temperature reached 110 degrees, riots again erupted, according to Toland. 

Men collided with one another in the dark, slipping and falling in their own feces. The sick were trampled, and wild, deadly fights erupted. Men dropped to their knees like animals to lap up sewage running in open drains.

When the ship was sinking, men escaped the hull by jumping into the sea. Skardon described how a bomb killed many of the men in the rear hold with him while he crawled over their bodies to reach the deck.

“Those men saved my life,” Skardon said, explaining that they had taken the brunt of the bomb and he was able to escape. 

[{"type":"text","text":"Goldtrap was not so fortunate. "}]

He was either one of those killed in the rear hold by suffocation, murder or the bombing. Another possibility is that Goldtrap made it into the sea and was one of the 55 soldiers who were either shot for trying to escape or drowned.

His life that had been so promising in Wyoming had ended brutally with an estimated 21,000 other POWs lost in the hell ships.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"A West Point Graduate And Proud Casperite"}]

As a teenager, Goldtrap enrolled in the Citizens’ Military Training Camp at Fort Russel and then served in the Wyoming National Guard before heading off to the U.S. Military Academy at West Point.

Goldtrap had a promising military career ahead of him and often appeared with his wife, Caroline, in the social section of the Casper newspaper. They were also the proud parents of a little boy. 

Goldtrap served at Fort Francis E. Warren before heading off to Infantry School. 

On June 1940, the young officer sailed to the Philippine Islands and joined the 57th Infantry Regiment, the Philippines Scouts. His wife and son returned to live with her father in Casper to wait for Goldtrap's return home.

Then on May 7, 1942, Goldtrap was reported missing in action following the fall of Mindanao. 

He was subsequently confirmed as a Japanese prisoner of war and survived more than two and a half years in enemy hands. 

His wife received messages saying that he was well, and another serviceman saw him alive in June 1944.

Six months later, as the Japanese attempted to move him to Japan, Goldtrap was declared dead after the Oryoku Maru was sunk.

According to his personnel records, attacks on these POW transports ultimately resulted in a series of death notifications from the Japanese government through the International Red Cross, and some casualties were given up to five different dates of death at various locations during the transfer.

Witness accounts from surviving POWs offer detailed information for a handful of casualties, but the specific dates of loss or last-known locations for many of these POWs are based on the most recent reported date of death.

Although Goldtrap was reported to have died during the destruction of the Oryoku Maru on Dec. 15, 1944, no known eyewitness account has yet established precisely where or how he died, and his family was left wondering how he had met his fate.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"The Wyoming Survivor"}]

Meanwhile, another Wyoming serviceman was aboard the Oroku Maru in a different hold. 

Robertson, a medic, had been a captive for two years when the Oryoku Maru was bombed. Although Robertson was able to swim to shore, his torture was not over.

The Army said that survivors of the bombing were put aboard two other hell ships, the Enoura Maru and the Brazil Maru, to continue on to Japan. 

While anchored in Takao Harbor in Formosa (present-day Taiwan), the Enoura Maru was attacked by Allied aircraft from the USS Hornet (CV 8). Survivors of the Enoura Maru bombing were loaded onto the Brazil Maru, which reached Japan on Jan. 30, 1945.

As a result of these incidents, many Allied POWs, such as Goldtrap, were lost at sea between the Philippines and Taiwan, while anchored in Taiwan, at sea between Taiwan and Japan, and in Japan.

When Robertson was finally freed two years later, he gave his sworn testimony at F.E. Warren. 

It was prepared for the War Crimes Office in connection with Japanese naval medical officer Satoru Nakazawa and conditions at Nichols Field, Las Piñas and Bilibid Prison.

During his war crime affidavit debriefing, Robertson said that he was placed on another hell ship after swimming to shore. 

He suffered in the cramped conditions for two months before reaching Japan, where he was tortured and nearly went blind from lack of food.

According to his obituary, Robertson had enlisted on Jan. 30, 1940, at Ft. Douglas, Utah. He was stationed in Bataan as a surgical technician with the Army medical detachment at General Hospital No. 1.

On April 10, 1942, he and companions made their way to Corregidor, where they stayed until it fell to the Japanese May 6, 1942. 

After capture, he was sent to Bilibed in Manila and then to Cabanatuan, a main Japanese prison camp, where he was held 58 days. 

He then was sent to Nichols Field camp and was there until 1944, when he was returned to Bilibed for treatment of his eyes, as his vision was impaired because of a lack of food.

Roberston returned home to his wife, Alice, in Rocks Springs where he worked for the next 22 years as an auto body shop operator. 

The couple had three sons — Joe, Vernon and Richard — when Robertson died unexpectedly after one day of being ill. He was 52 and proud of his service to the end.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Recovering Our Missing"}]

The Department of the Army lists Goldtrap’s case as an “active pursuit.”

Official records state “that Goldtrap was reportedly killed on Dec. 15, 1944, during the attack on the Oryoku Maru; however, these reports often involve information solely furnished by enemy governments.”

With so many unanswered questions of what happened to the young Casper officer and the other Americans declared dead on the Oroku Maru, the DPAA said it will continue to search for the missing servicemen. 

[{"type":"text","text":"The latest search effort is their largest to date on the Oroku Maru."}]

“This mission represents our solemn commitment to provide the fullest possible accounting to families and the nation,” said U.S. Army Capt. Barrett Breland, DPAA team leader for the Oryoku Maru recovery on their official website.

“We carry this responsibility with compassion and integrity, and our success depends on strong partnerships and unwavering respect for the fallen.”

For his service in the Philippines, Goldtrap received the Silver Star, Bronze Star and Purple Heart. He was also promoted posthumously from major to the rank of lieutenant colonel. The promotion was an honor but not a military decoration.

Goldtrap has a marker at Arlington Cemetery in Washington, D.C., and there is now the possibility Goldtrap may have more than just a memorial as searchers look for answers of what happened to the Americans who died on the hell ship Oryoku Maru.

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<title>Wyoming POW On Sunken Japanese 'Hell Ship' May Be Close To Coming Home After 82 Years | Cowboy State Daily</title>

For 82 years, Lt. Col. John Clarke Goldtrap of Casper has been in a watery grave as a POW on the sunken wreck of the brutal Japanese “hell ship” Oryoku Maru. Now his remains may finally be ID'd and brought home. Another Wyoming serviceman on the ship survived.

Wyoming POW On Sunken Japanese 'Hell Ship' May Be Close To Coming Home After 82 Years

The old ash tree had stood for an estimated 60 to 70 years on the west side of the Washakie County Courthouse. It was 3 feet in circumference when, in 1999, a tree company declared the ash was dead and a hazard. 

[{"type":"text","text":"They were wrong."}]

When groundskeeper Heather Shryack discovered the stately ash had been healthy when it was cut down, she was determined it wouldn’t go to waste.

“She's a scrappy little gal, and she really knows her gardening,” said her husband, Terry Shryack. “Heather saw the whole tree was solid as a rock and that there was absolutely nothing wrong with it.”

The Washakie County Commission agreed that it was Heather’s tree and so she promptly hired an oil field company to haul it to her husband’s sawmill, despite protests from the tree company. Heather wasn’t going to be stopped in her mission to save the wood.  

“Everybody's upset when a big tree gets cut down here, without a doubt,” Terry said. “It was a treasure that we weren’t going to let get by.”

Over the years, Terry had made furniture out of the smaller pieces of the ash tree at his house in Winchester, including a rocking chair and small end tables. 

As the decades rolled by, he forgot about the large pieces of the ash tree he had stored in their shed — until he decided to build a table with local artist Calvin “Cal” Fulfer as an ultimate honor to the old ash tree.

The result is a 600-pound table with a river of treasure running through it.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"The Artist"}]

Fulfer is an "old-school Deadhead" who spends his time in his workshop listening to the Grateful Dead and surrounded by repurposed art. 

Since retiring as a tile layer, he has dedicated the last decade to creating award-winning sculptures out of abandoned relics of the past. 

His walls are decorated with petroglyph fish made of old typewriter parts, Styrofoam Egyptian walls and computer circuit board bolo ties. Tiny snails made from old forks and marbles crawl across glass tabletops and a train sculpture runs its engine.

In the midst of this eclectic art, the giant ash table is set up in a corner and represents the largest art piece Fulfer has done to date. Fuller said it was based on a design from the Middle Ages.

“They call it a French trestle table,” Fulfer said. “They would send the servants out to put the table up for the banquet.”

The table can be disassembled into four sections by pulling out handmade dowel pins. A good thing, Fulfer said, considering the size. 

“Terry is a really accomplished woodworker and I'm more of a visual artist,” Fulfer explained. “It took him a year to build the table and me a year to build the top.”

This is the second table the duo built together. Two years ago, they built a table top out of Russian olive wood and Fulfer painted 101 goldfish as the accent. The table was for a fundraiser for Terry’s stepson, who had an emergency heart transplant. 

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"The Treasure River"}]

Fulfer had discovered a technique of painting an acrylic layer of a fish and pouring resin over the painting. He will repeat the process up to eight times to create a 3D image of a fish people are convinced is more than just paint. 

For this ash table, Fulfer wanted to keep the theme western. He painted trout and crawdads rather than his usual goldfish.

“Terry just kind of turned me loose at the tabletop,” Fulfer said. “While I was searching for the right theme, I started the process by visiting ant hills.”

Fulfer said he pilfered the ant hills for their tiny sand pebbles, which he washed before pouring on the bottom of his resin river. As he worked, he began hiding treasure into the bottom of his river and larger river rocks.

“I inherited a bunch of stuff from my brother when he passed,” Fulfer said. “He was a jeweler, and so I thought, why not, and put some of his rings and necklaces into the table.”

The ash table now honors not only the old tree that was cut down in its prime, but also bits and pieces of Fulfer’s own family.

“We call it Guardians of Treasure Creek,” Fulfer said. “It just kind of evolved into its own weird, fun river.”

Pieces of the ash tree still remain remain and both Terry and Fulfer continue to find ways to make sure the wood is incorporated into useful art.

“I’m just glad they rescued that old tree,” Fulfer said. “It's tough to tell what we're going to come up with next.”

Ash tree 2 Calvin with river table 8 16 26

<title>Old Washakie County Ash Tree Cut Down By Mistake Remade Into 600-Pound Table | Cowboy State Daily</title>

When an old ash tree was cut down by mistake at the Washakie County Courthouse in 1999, the groundskeeper rescued the wood. For nearly three decades, huge pieces of the ash sat forgotten until a Worland craftsman built a 600-pound table from it.

Old Washakie County Ash Tree Cut Down By Mistake Remade Into 600-Pound Table

Employee kate meadows cropped

Kate Meadows

Tourism

The parking lot was mostly empty when a group of volunteers from Zion Lutheran Church in Rapid City rolled into Blessed Emmanuel Lutheran Church in Sturgis, South Dakota, at 7 a.m.

Fog hung from the tops of the pine trees like a delicate tablecloth. The air was cool and fresh.

It had rained hard the previous night — an unusual turn during a record-breaking hot and dry summer in the Black Hills — and the motorcycles were slower than usual to begin pulling into the church parking lot for breakfast.

But that morning, like every other morning for the past five days, the core volunteers were ready.

For more than 15 years, the church has opened its doors, its kitchens (first one and then two) and its hard-charging weeklong ministry to bikers looking for a hearty breakfast or dinner. 

As an estimated half-million bikers worldwide descend on the otherwise tranquil town of about 7,000 over 10 days, the devoted volunteers at Blessed Emmanuel work tirelessly to cook made-to-order breakfasts for free-will donations.

[{"type":"text","text":"The week of work funds the bulk of the church’s annual budget."}]

Soon after 7, the first customers arrived. A lone biker wearing a black T-shirt and faded black jeans placed his breakfast order with church member LuAnn Grossman, who greeted customers beneath an awning outside the church.

Most of the rest of his crew was still back at the campground, he explained, sleeping off the previous night.

[{"type":"text","text":"“Some of them are in rough shape,” he said."}]

Grossman smiled, handed the biker a number and gave his order to a runner. 

That runner, a middle schooler who will start school next week, made the rounds: First to the outdoor kitchen for eggs, hashbrowns and French toast according to what the order sheet specified, then to the indoor kitchen for bacon, sausage, biscuits and gravy and toast.

A full plate of hot food would soon land in front of the biker to accompany his cup of hot black coffee — a godsend in the morning’s cool and cloudy weather.

By the time the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally is in full swing, Blessed Emmanuel Lutheran Church has become something of a second home for many rallygoers.

Eggs and omelets are cooked to order. Biscuits and gravy. Waffles, bacon, sausage, ham, toast and fruit.

There are tables beneath awnings in the church yard, where bikers can sit outside and swap stories. There is a dining room inside. Volunteers are everywhere – cooking, serving, busing, scraping plates, washing dishes, wiping down tables, visiting with rallygoers.

[{"type":"text","text":"And there is plenty of coffee."}]

But the ministry that now feels like a Sturgis institution began with a much humbler purpose.

[{"type":"text","text":"It started because Blessed Emmanuel needed the money."}]

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"From 'Takers' To Givers"}]

Blessed Emmanuel began as a church plant in 2000, a new congregation that relied heavily on financial support from sister churches in the area.

[{"type":"text","text":"The congregation eventually needed to find a way to support itself."}]

“For a long time, we were takers,” said Kari Kannenberg, a longtime member of Blessed Emmanuel who has been involved with the breakfast ministry since it started in 2010.

[{"type":"text","text":"Church members began talking about ways to raise money."}]

Several saw opportunity in the rally. How could the church serve the scores of strangers who rumble in and out of its little town during one week every year?

In 2010, the congregation began serving meals during rally week, on a wing and a prayer.

The first breakfasts were prepared in the church kitchen, a cramped room about the size of three cubicles.

Volunteers cooked eggs, bacon, sausage, waffles, biscuits and gravy and toast in that tiny space.

[{"type":"text","text":"A lot of food in a small room."}]

But the idea caught on. At first, roughly 50 people showed up throughout the week. Then 100 a day. Then 150.

The weeklong fundraiser brought in money the congregation needed. More importantly, it eventually became something bigger than a fundraiser.

Today, proceeds help fund much of Blessed Emmanuel's annual budget, while some of the money is shared with other Lutheran congregations in the area.

“Our parish would not exist without this ministry,” said Pastor Robert Hinckley, who also serves as pastor at Grace Lutheran in Deadwood. “It really puts us on the map.”

The church that once needed supported from other congregations now has something to give.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"A Well-Oiled Breakfast Machine"}]

By rally week, the operation at Blessed Emmanuel resembles a small restaurant with a remarkably large volunteer staff. A food inspector from the South Dakota Department of Health examines the property the first day to ensure operations are sanitary.

Volunteers serve breakfast every day from Saturday through Saturday and dinner Monday through Friday. The dinners – one homemade menu item each night – draw a crowd, but the breakfast is where the ministry really shines.

Bikers put in their order with Grossman under the awning just outside the church’s entrance. When someone orders a waffle, Grossman presses a button, which dings in the church kitchen, notifying the volunteer there to pour batter so the waffle is ready when the plate comes.

An entire wall of the dining room is lined with drinks and condiments where customers can help themselves.

The church’s yard is covered with awnings beneath which are scores of folding tables and folding chairs.

After placing an order, each customer receives a number. A volunteer runner then shepherds the order from one kitchen station to the next.

[{"type":"text","text":"Outside, six cooks work oversized grills."}]

Once that part of the order is fulfilled, the runner brings the plate (washable, not disposable) to the inside kitchen, where servers further pile on waffles, toast, biscuits and gravy and/or fruit.

“You should have seen our waffle makers the other day,” longtime church member and volunteer Bill Denke said while eating his own breakfast before the Thursday rush. “They got so behind in making waffles.”

The volunteer cooking waffles heard the “ding” so many times the sound followed him home.

“When he got home that day and his doorbell rang, he got up to go make a waffle,” Denke said.

[{"type":"text","text":"There are plenty of stories like that."}]

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"A Week Of Vacation, Cooking Eggs"}]

The ministry requires roughly 10 to 15 volunteers each day, in addition to about 10 core volunteers who show up every day.

Many of those core volunteers are in their 60s and 70s. Some are retired. Others take vacation from their regular jobs.

Denke, a stout man with a weathered face who braids his long beard and always wears a bandanna or cap snug against his scalp, has been cooking eggs and omelets at the rally breakfast for 16 years.

Every August, he takes a week of vacation from his job as an elevator shaft operator at the Sanford Underground Research Facility in nearby Lead.

He trades his regular work clothes for an apron and he spends the week cracking eggs over an oversized griddle.

Kannenberg's husband, Denny, wears an old pair of shoes while working in the outdoor kitchen because, as she puts it, he knows he's going to get eggs all over them.

Quinten Glass, a pharmacist from Rapid City, was on his second day of cooking bacon.

“I'm pretty sure I'll sweat bacon grease the rest of the day,” he said.

[{"type":"text","text":"But the volunteers don't seem to mind."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"They keep coming back."}]

One day this week, members of the quilt club from Peace Lutheran Church in Rapid City joined them.

[{"type":"text","text":"One volunteer was 90."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Another was 100."}]

The 100-year-old volunteer sat on a stool for hours scraping dirty plates.

[{"type":"text","text":"“Don't talk so loud!” she would say. “My hearing aids are new!”"}]

The ministry even attracts volunteers who aren't affiliated with the church.

Every once in a while, bikers themselves trade a day on the open road for an apron and spatula.

[{"type":"text","text":"“They see the mission,” Kannenberg said."}]

For 16 years, a small Sturgis church that needed to raise money has welcomed motorcycle rallygoers with hot, made-to-order breakfasts. “Our parish would not exist without this ministry,” says the pastor for Blessed Emmanuel Lutheran Church.

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