The Story of How Serbian Villagers Built a Secret Airfield in WWII to Rescue Over 500 Downed Allied Airmen

Stranded in Hostile Territory

By the summer of 1944, the Allied campaign against the oil fields of Romania had reached a heavy cost. American bombers based in southern Italy flew long missions over the Balkans, striking oil refineries that kept the German war machine running. Each raid faced swarms of fighters and deadly ground fire. Losses mounted quickly—by August, nearly half of the U.S. 15th Air Force’s bombers had been destroyed, leaving hundreds of airmen scattered across occupied Serbia and surrounding regions.

Families in America received telegrams declaring their sons missing, many presumed dead. Yet in the mountains of western Serbia, villagers were already moving stones, clearing trees, and hauling gravel by ox cart. With little more than hand tools, they began to build an airstrip on a hillside clearing, unaware that their work would soon save more than 500 Allied lives.

Rescue in the Hills

American crews who parachuted into Serbia often landed far from help. Some were captured quickly, but others found shelter with Chetnik guerrillas loyal to General Draža Mihailović. These fighters, rooted in the rugged countryside, organized safe houses, moved airmen across villages, and hid them from patrols. Local families, though short of food themselves, shared what they had and even set up improvised hospitals in barns and schools.

One airman, gunner Clare Musgrove, recalled crashing far from his crew and stumbling into a sheep pasture. He approached cautiously, unsure if the people he met would hand him over. Instead, villagers led him to safety, hiding him under floorboards when German soldiers came searching. Many airmen later told of similar moments of uncertainty, followed by unexpected kindness from strangers who risked execution if discovered.

The Plan for Escape

News of the stranded Americans eventually reached Washington through Mirjana Vujnovich, a Yugoslav émigré working at her country’s embassy. She wrote to her husband George, an officer with the Office of Strategic Services in Italy, urging him to help. The OSS organized a mission, parachuting agents into Serbia to work with the Chetniks. Their goal was clear but daunting: build a landing strip where none should exist, then fly the men out under the Germans’ noses.

Villagers in Pranjani answered the call. At night, to avoid detection, they hauled stones from a stream, filled holes with sand, and leveled the ground by hand. Allied airmen joined them, digging alongside peasants and fighters. The work took weeks, but by early August 1944, the meadow they had cleared was just long enough for transport planes to attempt a landing.

Flights into Darkness

On the night of August 9, bonfires lit the edges of the strip as the first C-47 transport approached. The tension was overwhelming—if the runway failed, or if patrols discovered the noise, disaster was certain. The first aircraft nearly overshot, but a second landed hard, held together, and taxied to a stop. One by one, groups of airmen boarded, giving their boots to villagers before climbing aboard. Engines roared, and the transports clawed into the night sky, carrying dozens to safety.

Over the next days, more flights followed. By the time the operation ended, 417 Allied personnel, including 343 Americans, had been evacuated from Serbia. Not a single man was lost in the effort.

A Forgotten Legacy

The operation, known later as Halyard, was one of the largest air rescues of the war. Yet political shifts left its story buried. Mihailović was later executed by rival forces, and his role faded from memory, even as the United States quietly honored him in secret. Only decades later did survivors and their rescuers gather again, unveiling a memorial in Pranjani to mark the extraordinary courage of villagers who had built a runway with their bare hands.