At W.O.E., watches are the vector through which we approach history and current events, and more often than not, watches bring us to stories and experiences we might not have otherwise encountered. When our friend, US Navy Diver, EDC gear nerd, and talented photographer, Brock Stevens, said he was going on his first mission with Project Recover to dive for the remains of missing US service members, we asked if he would be willing to write up the experience to share with our community.
Project Recover’s primary mission is to locate and repatriate the remains of fallen U.S. service members, many of them from the Second World War. We’ve covered the Watches of D-Day as well as the watches worn by the pioneering Office of Strategic Services Maritime Unit, a story that is closely related to Brock’s efforts on this particular mission.
Diving For The Remains Of WWII Service Members In The Western Pacific
By Brock Stevens
Leaving the surface for my first dive, I set the bezel on my Mk II Fulcrum 39. The water was in the 80s and crystal clear. Descending, the scattered parts of the F4U Corsair lying 35 feet below quickly came into view—quiet, still, and untouched. There was an emotional weight to the dive like nothing I had experienced, knowing the wrecked aircraft was once a machine of war. Someone died here. Someone who left everything they knew behind to fight for something bigger than themselves. Someone much younger than me.
(Photo Credit: Brock Stevens)
Reaching the bottom, I floated beside a large piece of the wrecked 1940s Corsair, suspended in time, feeling a mixture of awe and a quiet kind of grief. I’m not usually an emotional person, but this was different. I was on my first mission with Project Recover, something I had been dreaming about since U.S. Navy Dive school over five years ago. Our team’s task was to search for the remains of an unaccounted-for pilot who crashed here in Palau over eighty years ago. Looking back on the dive a couple of weeks later, I know playing even a small role in the mission was one of my life’s great honors and something I will never forget.
Project Recover & To What Remains
The first time I heard about Project Recover, I was unwinding in my barracks room after another grueling week at Naval Diving and Salvage Training Center (NDSTC) in Panama City, FL. It was a Friday night, and for whatever reason, I’d decided to stay in instead of heading to the typical bars with my roommate. After spending way too much time scrolling through Instagram and drooling over watches I couldn’t afford, I stumbled across a trailer for a film called To What Remains. Within seconds, it had my full attention.
The film provided a powerful look into Project Recover and the incredible work the organization was doing: Bringing missing in action (MIAs) servicemen back home to their families—a truly honorable endeavor. The film followed several of their recovery missions over the years, showing how they dug through historical military reports, used cutting-edge underwater tech, and took on tough dives and excavations in some of the most remote corners of the world. Everyone doing the work was a volunteer.
The author learning to dive at Naval Diving and Salvage Training Center. (Photo Credit: Brock Stevens)
But what stuck with me wasn’t just the mission, it was the heart behind it. To What Remains stirred something in me. It made me want to pursue something bigger than myself, to be a part of something that truly matters. As it finished, I found myself thinking about how I might one day use the skills I’d learn as a Navy Diver to help support Project Recover’s mission—assuming they’d have me, of course.
Project Recover Mission To Palau
Fast forward five years, and I had completed my active duty Navy contract and finally become a member of Project Recover. I was en route to my first mission, and after 21 hours of travel, the last of my three flights finally started its descent into the islands of Palau, a remote island country in the Western Pacific Ocean.
(Photo Credit: Brock Stevens)
The mission team was made up of seven members: Derek Abbey, CEO of Project Recover; Dr. Pat Scannon, the organization's founder; Svenja Weise, an anthropologist; Jolie Liston, an archaeologist; Nick Zaborski, a U.S. Navy Diver and co-founder of a commercial diving company called Legion Undersea Services; Josh Evans, a former Marine aviator and now a member of the team—and myself.
The 10-day mission was divided into two main objectives. One was to dive on the crash site of a Marine aviator’s F4U Corsair to assess the feasibility of a future recovery operation, and the other involved using advanced environmental DNA technology to investigate a site where Project Recover’s research indicated unaccounted-for members of UDT-10 may be buried.
Diving On A WWII Fighter Plane
An F4U Corsair photographed in Palau in 1945.
It had been over fifteen years since anyone had visited the site, and I was eager to apply the skills I’d learned in the Navy for a good cause on the civilian side. We pulled our dive boat up to the marked GPS location. The visibility was incredible—looking over the side of the boat, I could almost see the bottom, 35 feet below.
Derek searching the wreckage of the Corsair. (Photo Credit: Brock Stevens)
The water temperature was in the mid 80s, perfect for my go-to dive setup: a T-shirt and cammies. No wetsuit needed. The entire team was wearing watches provided by the Mk II/Tornek-Rayville, and it was awesome to see that many real divers wearing real dive watches, especially from brands with such reverence for US Military history. I grabbed my underwater camera, and with Nick and Svenja beside me, we slipped beneath the surface.
Following the downline, we began spotting pieces of the Corsair almost immediately. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. There wasn’t a full aircraft—just fragments scattered across the seafloor. Mangled sections of wings, fuselage, and other parts rested quietly in the sand and coral. One of the first things I saw was a propeller, half-buried but still clearly recognizable, softened by time and marine growth. It’s undeniably beautiful down there, but it also hits you—this is a crash site, not just another dive. The ocean holds onto stories like this in its own quiet way. And floating in that stillness, you can’t help but feel immersed, literally and figuratively.
Covered by eight decades of marine growth, the wrecked components of the Corsair began to make sense upon closer inspection. (Photo Credit: Brock Stevens)
My role on this dive was to document the site and help identify parts of the aircraft. Our goal was to locate and recognize as many components as possible, especially those closer to the cockpit, as they would be key to determining the feasibility of a recovery. Once we had our bearings, Nick, Svenja, and I ran a grid search across some of the less-explored areas, hoping to uncover pieces that hadn’t been documented before. We found new parts—small, but significant. Each one felt like another piece of the story being brought to light.
(Photo Credit: Brock Stevens)
These initial dives were only the first steps in recovering the remains of the downed aviator. To move forward with the formal recovery process, we needed to first assess whether it would be possible by carefully searching the area and cataloging the individual components of the WWII aircraft.
The Search For Missing UDT Men
The men of UDT-10 pictured onboard USS Burrfish in 1944. From left to right, they are: Chief Howard “Red” Roeder, Emmet L. Carpenter, Bob Black, John MacMahon, and CPO John Ball. Howard, MacMahon, & Black are believed to be buried on Palau. (Photo Credit: Navy SEAL Museum)
Our other major objective was to search for signs of the missing members of UDT-10, Howard Roeder, John MacMahon, and Robert Black, who were lost during a daring reconnaissance mission launched from the USS Burrfish in August of 1944. Japanese documents from the war indicate the men were tortured, executed, and later buried on Palau. Hiking through the mountains to the UDT site, the trail was lush and vibrant, alive with the sounds of the jungle. We grabbed our backpacks and followed an old Japanese service road that climbed over a ridge before descending into a quiet, secluded valley where the site lay hidden.
Path to the Japanese Service road. (Photo Credit: Brock Stevens)
As we made our way down, the path cut through a dense stretch of Uluhe ferns—tall, tangled, and thick. I watched Derek, the CEO, take the lead and vanish almost instantly into the ferns’ grasp, as if the jungle had swallowed him whole. It felt like we were walking deeper into both nature and history. When we arrived, the first thing I noticed was the stillness. The jungle felt hushed, almost reverent. Strangely, it reminded me of diving—how your worries seem to fade, and the only sounds are your breath and the water moving around you. Here, it was the same feeling, but replaced by the quiet rhythm of birds and distant wildlife.
Palau is littered with remnants of the Second World War. Hopefully, scattered among them, we’ll find the missing men of UDT-10. (Photo Credit: Brock Stevens)
Then reality set in. This could be the place where the missing members of UDT-10 are buried. I glanced over my right shoulder and saw Dr. Scannon standing silently, his eyes fixed on the site with a deep, almost aching focus. He’s spent 25 years searching for these men. The weight of that history—and the possibility that this new environmental DNA technology could finally bring answers—hung heavily in the air.
Dr. Pat Scannon looking over the UDT site. (Photo Credit: Brock Stevens)
Over the next three days, we spent hours carefully planning and executing Project Recover’s first-ever field test of the environmental DNA process. In the end, we collected the samples we needed—and did so with surprising efficiency. It’s much too soon to tell, but hopefully, we’re on the right track to identifying the missing UDT men, bringing them home, and bringing closure to their surviving relatives.
The Mission Continues
The mission team photographed on the runway where the F4U Corsair would have taken off for its final flight. (Photo Credit: Brock Stevens)
Incredibly, there are still nearly 72,000 unaccounted-for service members from World War II alone. Private organizations like Project Recover and government entities, including the Defense POW/MIA Accounting Agency (DPAA), are doing everything they can to make a dent in this figure, but it is a massive undertaking requiring time, effort, and funding. Over eighty years ago, approximately sixteen million Americans answered the call to fight in the largest conflict the world had ever seen. Some were drafted, and others volunteered to leave the safety of their homes and families to risk their lives in a conflict that would change the course of history.
From sixteen million, more than 400,000 Americans died, with a further almost 700,000 injured. While every loss is terrible, the unknown is worse. For those still missing in action, the least we can do is everything we can to find them and bring them home.
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Project Recover is a 501(c)(3) charity, to learn more about their important work and support the organization, please consider a donation, HERE. Thanks also to Mk II/Tornek-Rayville and Prometheus Design Werx for their support with this mission.
About The Author: In addition to his work with Project Recover, Brock Stevens is a US Navy Diver, an EDC nerd, and a talented photographer with a deep appreciation for tool dive watches and his 1971 Land Rover Santana Series IIA. Learn more about Brock by heading over to his Instagram page, @deepsea.edc.
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7 comments
A valiant and appreciated effort for those that served. Great story, thanks for reminding us all there are many more that need to come home.
This was an incredible read—what an unforgettable mission and powerful way to honor the fallen. Brock’s story really hits home and shows the heart behind these recovery efforts.