Loyal Unto Death: Antis. Isabel George

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СКАЧАТЬ – where all Czechoslovakian airmen were directed – he was penniless. Once there and amongst Czechoslovakian friends who had also run the gauntlet to escape German rule, he was able to talk freely, bathe and feel easy taking financial help.

      Poland was a stop-gap and not the place where Bozděch and many of the others planned to stay for long; they were welcomed but there was no great call for air force recruits. He heard that the French were happy to absorb the men and so on the last day of July 1939, with a visa issued by the French Consulate in Krakov just three weeks earlier, Bozděch arrived at the port of Calais. He was one of 470 Czechoslovakian airmen who made for France on six ships between May and August that year. They arrived ready and willing to fight for democracy, for justice and for the freedom of those imprisoned by Hitler’s Third Reich.

      But before they could sign up, there was a political hurdle to clear. If the French allowed the airmen to join its Air Force unconditionally, the outside world could misconstrue this as a threat. To avoid this, the French issued a policy that all Czechoslovakian airmen sign a standard five-year contract with the Foreign Legion. To serve France now meant they could also fight their own battle for Czechoslovak freedom later on – under the conditions of the contract, in the event of war breaking out, the soldiers and airmen could transfer to the Czechoslovak units serving under the French military. It was a little more than a spoken promise but in their powerless situation it was enough to send the men into action with a zeal for justice.

      After signing up, they were shipped out to the Legion’s base at Sidi-bel-Abbès where they relinquished their individual ranks for the one rank of soldat. The Czechoslovakians distinguished themselves from the others by their sheer focus and ability to adapt; they marched and fought proudly earning the respect of the French officers and men alike.

      On 1 September 1939, Germany invaded Poland. It was the catalyst for Britain and France to launch their defence against Hitler’s march through Europe. Two days later, they declared war on Germany. For Bozděch and his compatriots the start of the Second World War was their cue to take up arms as Czechoslovakians, this time attached to the French Air Force. Once the transfer had taken place, a period of refresher courses followed and, eager to get on with the job of war, Bozděch passed each one with flying colours. He had one priority and that was to get back into the air. He completed courses in mechanics and gunnery and also trained as a wireless operator. Once back in the air, the men felt they had control again and, as the Czechoslovakian airmen’s contract with the French had said, they could now bond with their own units and fight under the banner of their country. Now they felt they could make a difference and stall Germany’s grip on Europe.

      It was at this point that Bozděch met the dog that was to change his life in so very many ways. Fate or whatever it is that dictates these things, put the man and the dog in the same place at the right time and there it was – pure serendipity. Bozděch’s bomber plane was returning from a raid over Germany when it crash landed in a field close to a ruined farm house. They were in no-man’s-land, caught between the French and German border. Bozděch and his navigator staggered out of the wreck and tried to get their bearings. They had landed in the middle of nowhere. Lost and in danger, they decided to walk in search of civilization, their handguns at the ready in case they walked into trouble. A few minutes later, they stumbled across a small farmhouse that had been left in ruins following a German bombing raid. Suddenly, the silence was broken by a rustling sound coming from the fallen masonry. Immediately, the men reached for their guns. Gradually closing in on the area, they realized the noise was actually a whimpering, snuffling sound. The men weren’t sure if it was human or animal but they had to investigate. Bozděch narrowed the sound down to a corner of the ruined house and there in front of him stood a small black and dark tan puppy with the most enormous ears. The dog’s soft brown eyes were full of fear and he looked at Bozděch as if to say, ‘So, are you going to shoot me?’ Of course Bozděch was not going to shoot the dog, even if part of him thought it would be the easiest thing to do. This dog was going with them. In one bold move, the airman lifted the dog from his hiding place and placed him inside his flying jacket, the dog’s head nestled next to the airman’s chest, his heartbeat comforting the puppy who must have been more terrified than his rescuers.

      There was no time to hang around. With the plane ditched it was up to the men to find their way back to the airfield. As they walked and hitched their way, Bozděch spoke softly to his new companion, cradling the little bundle in the palm of his hand so he could not slip down inside the jacket. The lilt of the man’s deep voice and the mutual body warmth of man and dog began to work its magic. The puppy relaxed a little and by the time the new recruit reached his new home he was fast asleep.

      Bozdech’s fellow airmen were impressed with their friend’s find. The puppy was very accommodating and sat still and quietly while the men looked him over. They quickly decided that he had to be an Alsatian. The disproportionately large ears were quite a talking point and the conversation quickly turned to the task of giving the dog a name. Everyone wanted to take their turn with ideas; even though it was assumed from the start that the dog belonged to Bozděch, the animal was going to be living with everyone and so everyone wanted to be involved. The ideas for names ranged from the wild to the silly but then one man suggested something so good that it was perfect. ‘What about naming the dog after a plane?’ he said. The Czechoslovakian Air Force had bought PE-2s from the Russians and called them ANT. The men could not have known how totally appropriate the name would turn out to be. Most importantly, the dog seemed to like it. Every time the men tested him, ‘Ant! Come here, Ant!’ his huge ears would reach for the sky, his head would drop to one side and his tongue would loll out of his mouth. But from the start Ant, later lengthened to Antis, decided that he was not going to take orders from anyone other than his rescuer. Someone else may have called his name but Antis would immediately look to his master before doing any other man’s bidding. The bond was already starting to develop.

      In the early months of 1940, Antis was a happy dog who enjoyed all the privileges of being an airman’s companion – lots of attention, scraps from the men’s tables, plenty of people to play with. Antis was playful and attentive and, although clearly Bozděch’s dog, he was happy to mingle in with everyone and very soon considered himself one of the crew. And Bozděch decided to make it official – it was the best way he could think of for keeping man and dog together. His training came to an end in May 1940 and he was transferred to an active section right away and started taking Antis with him. The dog lay at the gunner’s feet and soon realized he could sleep the whole time he was in the air. Taking Antis on the sorties was vitally important to Bozděch as he didn’t want to risk leaving him behind and then find the dog had been transferred away without him, or worse. It was a time of great confusion as the Allies rallied to stop Germany’s rampage through Europe. The German Panzer divisions were driving into France, Calais fell and the evacuation of British Forces began at Dunkirk. If General Von Rundstedt, the German Commander in Chief of the French campaign, had not decided to halt the Panzer columns in order to protect them, this part of the campaign may not have gone so well for the Allies. As it was, the withdrawal of the ranks meant more time to move the men out of Dunkirk. Then all efforts were focused on saving Paris from the clutches of the Germans. But things had gone too far; Parisians were packing and leaving along with the Belgians from the north of France. Refugees littered the road although they really did not have anywhere to go. By 14 June, the German occupation of Paris was complete.

      The Czechoslovak airmen were left in a state of uncertainty. The political movers and shakers in their own country were trying to use this situation to manipulate a better deal for their men who were split between sixteen squadrons in the French Air Force. The advice at the base had been for the men to pack their belongings and head for Tours. Bozděch, his dog and the eight other airmen in his group decided to make their way to Blois instead, managing to commandeer a horse and trap along the way and then boarding a train which was packed with refugees. With limited rations to take with them, there was very little for the men or Antis to eat.

      The safety of British territory seemed too far away for comfort and scant news and direction did little for morale. The War Office СКАЧАТЬ