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Showing posts with label WAR DOG HEROES. Show all posts
Showing posts with label WAR DOG HEROES. Show all posts

Sergeant Stubby - WWI War Dog Hero

Sergeant-Stubby-War-Dog-Hero

Sergeant Stubby (July 1916 – March 1926) was the most decorated war dog who served during World War I.

Though there is no official documentation, he’s also the only dog to have been nominated for rank and was promoted to sergeant through combat.

He was the official mascot of the 181st Infantry in the US and assigned to the 26th Yankee Division. Stubby dutifully served for 18 months and even took part in in seventeen battles on the Western Front. He saved his regiment from surprise mustard gas attacks, found and comforted the wounded, and he once caught a German soldier by the seat of his pants -sadly we could find no picture -, holding him there until American soldiers found him. 


Back home his exploits were front page news of every major newspaper.

EARLY LIFE

Stubby was referred to in the news as a Bull Terrier or a Boston Terrier. Describing him as a dog of "uncertain breed", Ann Bausum wrote that "The brindle-patterned pup probably owed at least some of his parentage to the evolving family of Boston Terriers, a breed so new that even its name was in flux: Boston Round Heads, American Bull Terriers, and Boston Bull Terriers."

Stubby was found wandering the grounds of Yale University (Connecticut) campus in July 1917 whilst members of the 181st Infantry were training. The dog hung around as the men drilled and one soldier, Corporal Robert Conroy, developed a fondness for the dog and named him Stubby because of his short legs.

When it came time for the outfit to ship out, Conroy hid Stubby on board the troop ship. As they were getting off the ship in France, he hid Stubby under his overcoat without detection. Upon discovery by Conroy's commanding officer, Stubby saluted him as he had been trained to in camp, and the commanding officer allowed the dog to stay on board.

This surprise welcome is in stark contrast with the treatment meted out to Horrie the Australian War Dog in similar circumstances.

MILITARY LIFE

Stubby served with the 181st Infantry Regiment in the trenches of the French battlefront for 18 months and participated in four offensives and 17 battles. He entered combat on February 5, 1918 at the Chemin des Dames, North of Soissons.

He was under constant fire, day and night for over a month. In April 1918, during a raid to take Schieprey, Stubby was wounded in the foreleg by the retreating Germans throwing hand grenades. He was sent to the rear for convalescence, and as he had done on the front was able to improve morale. When he recovered from his wounds, Stubby returned to the trenches. He ultimately had two wound stripes.

In his first year of battle Stubby was injured by mustard gas, after he recovered, he returned to the front wearing a specially designed gas mask to protect him.

He learnt to warn his unit of mustard gas attacks, located wounded soldiers in no man’s land and — since he could hear the whine of incoming artillery shells before humans could — became very adept at letting his unit know when to duck for cover.

He was solely responsible for capturing a German spy in the Argonne. Due to his capture of the enemy spy, the commander of the 102 Infantry nominated Stubby for the rank of sergeant. However, whether Stubby was actually promoted or even an official member of the Army is still subject to debate.

Following the retaking of Château-Thierry by the US, the women of the town made Stubby a chamois coat on which were pinned his many medals. He also helped free a French town from the Germans. He was later injured in the chest and leg by a grenade. At the end of the war, Robert Conroy again smuggled Stubby home.

AFTER THE WAR

After returning home, Stubby became a celebrity and marched in, and normally led many parades across the country. He rubbed shoulders with a number of American Presidents .

In 1921 General John J. Pershing presented a gold medal from the Humane Education Society to Stubby, which was the subject of a famous photograph.
General-Pershing-presenting-medal-to-Stubby
Starting in 1921, he attended Georgetown University Law Center with Conroy, and became the Georgetown Hoyas' team mascot. He would be given the football at half time and would nudge the ball around the field to the amusement of the fans.

Stubby passed away in his sleep in 1926. After his death, his body was preserved with his skin mounted on a plaster cast, which was presented to the Smithsonian in 1956.

STUBBY'S LEGACY

Stubby received an obituary in the New York Times following his death in 1926. The obituary was half a page, which was much longer than the obituaries of many notable people of the time period.


Stubby-War-Dog-Smithsonian-Memorial
Stubby was the subject of a portrait by "Capitol artist" Charles Ayer Whipple. Stubby was featured in the Brave Beasts exhibit at the Legermuseum in Delft, The Netherlands July 18, 2008 - April 13, 2009. During a ceremony held on Armistice Day in 2006, a brick was placed in the Walk of Honor at the Liberty Memorial in Kansas City to commemorate Sergeant Stubby.

Stubby was the subject of at least four books. In 2014, BBC Schools World War One series used Stubby as a Famous Figure to help teach children about the war, along with creating an animated comic strip to illustrate his life.

Stubby has his portrait on display at the West Haven Military Museum in Connecticut.

Source: Wikipedia 2015

Horrie The War Dog: a True Legend

He was only a pup when they found him: half-starved, white coat filthy and jumping with fleas, and stumpy little legs that reminded Jim Moody of the terriers he'd seen rabbiting on farms back in Australia.

Maybe the pup reminded him of home, a safer place where people kept pets. Or maybe the pup had enough personality to con Moody to take him back to camp.

Either way, the little dog and the little Digger were soon inseparable.

It was Egypt, 1940. Moody was a despatch rider with the 2/1 Machine Gun Battalion in the desert war. The soldiers weren't supposed to take in strays as pets but for Moody's crew, rules were for bending.

Moody wasn't overawed by officers. He was nearly 30, originally came from Brighton and had coxed a rowing crew at Scotch College. He'd been a jackaroo before the war and had knocked around a lot. The little dog should have been called Lucky but for some now-forgotten reason they called him Horrie.


He grew strong on pilfered army rations, was "promoted" to honorary corporal and assigned a service number, EX1. 

He trotted beside the troops on marches and followed the commanding officer on parade. When they went to Greece, Horrie travelled in Moody's kitbag.

But it wasn't all one way. Horrie wasn't big but he pulled his weight. People facing the risk of death seize on anything that might help them survive. Horrie's acute hearing meant he could hear approaching enemy aircraft before the men could. He was a four-legged, biscuit-stealing, leg-cocking, tail-wagging, early-warning system.

When the battalion was evacuated to Crete, Horrie survived the sinking of the ship and narrowly escaped being crushed between two lifeboats. On Crete, he was a secret messenger. Outlying patrolmen attached messages to a handkerchief tied around his neck and he'd trot back to Moody in the main camp.

He was wounded with shrapnel during the evacuation of Crete. When snow fell in Palestine, the Diggers made him a coat from an army blanket, complete with regimental colours. In all, he survived five campaigns against Hitler's troops. 


With every passing month, the bond between man and dog grew stronger.When the battalion returned to Australia to face the Japanese threat, Moody ignored orders that no animals be taken as a precaution against diseases - especially the incurable killer, rabies.

He had Horrie checked by a vet in Tel Aviv to make sure he was healthy. Then he modified his pack, stiffening it with plywood and cutting air vents, hidden by his helmet.

On the troop ship home Moody or one of his mates stayed with Horrie below decks at all times, ready to hide him if there was a search. They trained him to lie still under blankets and secretly fed him and disposed of his droppings.

For the soldiers' pets, the risk of discovery and instant death was real. One troop ship reputedly stopped for 12 hours off Fremantle until soldiers finally surrendered a cat. Military police flung the unfortunate pet overboard before the ship could dock.

But Horrie survived. Moody smuggled him off the ship in Adelaide and left him with his father in Melbourne, while he served in New Guinea.

After Moody was discharged in 1945, he took Horrie to Sydney, which is where the story might have ended if he'd kept the secret among family and friends. He assumed that three years was long enough for the quarantine laws to lose their edge, but he was wrong.

When he offered to lend Horrie to the Kennel Club to raise funds for the Red Cross, officials were stung into action.
Keen to discourage other returning servicemen from trying the same trick, they ordered Moody to surrender his dog to be shot, despite expert advice by the Government's own experts that the dog presented no threat of disease.

Moody fought for time, telling the officials the dog was in Melbourne and would have to be brought to Sydney. Official approval of this arrangement showed how little the dog was considered a real health risk. Quarantine officers seized the little white dog Moody produced. It was shot in March 1945.

The public was outraged. Angry dog lovers wrote letters to newspapers, politicians and the Quarantine department, which actually sought legal advice about suing one letter-writer for "defaming" unnamed public servants.

Cartoonists lampooned officialdom, one depicting Horrie as a blindfolded prisoner of war being shot by firing squad.

The first of many wreaths in Horrie's memory was laid on Anzac Day at the Sydney Cenotaph.


The story became a bestseller when popular author Ion Idriess published Horrie the Wog-Dog, based on Moody's war diary. Well-known in its day, the story of the game little dog was gradually forgotten.

Nearly 60 years later, Canberra author Anthony Hill was planning to include a short chapter on Horrie in a collection about Animals at War. He was at a book launch in 2002 when a veteran journalist, Norma Allen, quietly asked if he wanted to know the real story of Horrie's fate.

She told the intrigued Hill that as a teenage reporter in 1946, she had interviewed Jim Moody. She said when she had sympathised about Horrie being put down, he told her a secret she would keep most of her life: Moody had searched dog pounds for another white terrier to hand in to be shot, and bought one "for five bob".

Meanwhile, the real Horrie had been smuggled one last time - to a farm in the Corryong district, he hinted.There, the story goes, Horrie sired many litters of pups, so no one would be able to pick which one was him.

Hill traced Jim Moody's widow, children and close friends and confirmed the family secret. It seemed Horrie had lived happily ever after. But his master didn't.


Moody had applied for a "soldier settlement" farm but was knocked back. He died in the 1970s believing he had been punished for bucking the system.

He regretted that, but he never regretted saving the little dog.

Norma Allen never forgot what he told her: "You don't think an Australian soldier would leave his mate behind, do you?"

Moody's family are proud of the story of their maverick forebear saving his little dog. But one question teases them: are any of Horrie's descendants out there?


Source: ANDREW RULE, HERALD SUN, APRIL 18, 2013