Beyond the Call of Duty: Heart-warming stories of canine devotion and bravery. Isabel George

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      Bill and Ed were there as General David W. Hutchinson’s personal photographers but Photo Hutch, as he was nicknamed, had crashed his B17 while on a mission on Boxing Day of 1943, just before the two photographers arrived. After an awkward start, they were assigned to the photographic laboratory. Their boss, Captain Powell had developed an aerial camera mount for low-level bombing photography and this development was made at a crucial time for the Allies. As a member of the 26th Photo Reconnaissance Squadron, Bill was part of an elite force whose activities were vital to the success of the war in the Pacific. There was a saying that the side with the best aerial reconnaissance team was the one that would win the war. Bill and Smoky were a part of the best.

      While Bill was working twelve-hour shifts in the photo lab, Smoky would accompany him and entertain the other technicians just by being with them. Sitting on one of the trays used for passing wet images outside for washing in the daylight, Smoky would be passed between the men. And she was acquiring a wide range of tricks to show off. When he wasn’t at work, Bill would spend his time teaching Smoky something new. The little dog was a good pupil and picked up tricks very quickly and, more than that, she was eager to please. Her favourite party trick was playing dead: Bill would point his finger at her and shout, ‘Bang!’ This was Smoky’s signal to fall onto her side. From that point she would remain limp and still, and no matter how many times Bill prodded her, swung her round or tried to wake her she remained totally lifeless. The audience loved it. Then, with one word from Bill – ‘OK’ – she sprung to her feet and dashed to her master for some well-deserved praise. Smoky’s antics helped fill the long and lonely hours spent waiting for news of the Japanese invasion.

      Formed in 1943, the 26th Photo Recon Squadron was vital to the war effort and its planes were constantly on or near the front line throughout the war. The planes were F-5s, stripped down, customized versions of the P-38 Lockhead Lightening one-seater fighters. They had to be light and manoeuvrable so they could get in fast, get the shots and get out again so the armoured protection on the fuselage and the guns were removed. All the time the planes would be drawing enemy fire, but were unable to fire back. It was the only way to find out where enemy troops were positioned along with their hardware and ammunition. The images the recon teams captured could prove invaluable evidence of enemy activity to share with the Army, Navy and Air Force. Each flight entailed risking life and limb with only a camera for protection.

      Hollandia, in Dutch New Guinea, was approximately 450 miles from Nadzab and had three aerodromes which harboured the remainder of Japanese air strength in that area. It was surrounded by a range of 6,000-foot high mountains which would make any approach more problematic. But due south, in We Wak, there was a reported force of around 200,000 Japanese troops fresh from combat in China. The strategy was to starve them out by cutting off supplies from the outside world. Air reconnaissance revealed there were 350 enemy planes: the 5th Air Force wiped them out in three days.

      Only one thing could stop a recon team in its tracks were the big, black tropical storms which swept the area. Cruel and destructive, the storms cancelled out the daylight making flying dangerous and photography impossible. On Black Sunday, 1944, a sudden storm turned day into night in seconds. Out of 200 B-2s, four B-25s and A-20 bombers, eighteen per cent were lost in the air and on the ground. 5th Air Force alone lost thirty-seven. Those in the air either lost sight of the mountains or ran out of fuel.

      The storms were an unpredictable force of nature and the bane of the recon team. Smoky was not keen on them either. Bill soon learned that his dog could predict a storm several hours before it hit. Smoky would go very quiet and sniff the air before she began to whimper and then head for Bill’s cot. She knew the storms were bad news and did her best to warn the men. It was just another way she paid Bill back for taking her into his care.

      Of course, Bill and his friends were always looking out for Smoky too. One of the big health threats in the jungle was Scrub Typhus. Nine out of ten sufferers died and Smoky, being the perfect host for the ticks that carried the disease was in a vulnerable position. It was decided she would have a daily bath in Bill’s helmet to help keep her tick-free, and Smoky loved it. The relief of the tepid wash was a joy to her and she seemed to smile as Bill swished the water over her body. Carefully, Bill would lift her out of the make-shift bathtub and pat her dry, feeling for the telltale lump of the insects on her body. Bill’s heart was in his throat each time he started to examine her. He knew that if she was sick there would be no veterinary help available.

      Smoky had mastered the basics of Bill’s recall training: when he called her she returned immediately so he knew it was safe to let her run free in the jungle – she would always come back. And it was wonderful to watch her chase the birds and the giant exotic butterflies as she looked so happy and free. In those special moments, watching Smoky, it was as if the war was non-existent and it was a normal day in the sunshine, a day spent relaxing with friends, not a care in the world. A sudden burst of gunfire would usually bring everyone back to their senses and the moment of normality would pass as quickly as it had been conjured up. There were pressing realities that had to be faced up to.

      The scare of the Scrub Typhus made Bill and his friends face the fact that Smoky’s life was potentially in danger. They decided that Smoky had to be confined to barracks, only venturing as far as the tether tied to Bill’s bed would allow. And there were other concerns in the jungle too: pythons. A python would have found Smoky a tasty bite-size meal and Bill was well aware of that danger. There was also the constant worry of her being kidnapped by someone else. She liked to chase the native humpbacked hens and that’s probably how she ran into one of the local villages where the children discovered that she was far more intelligent than the average camp dog. Bill was used to losing sight of her for short periods of time but that day he was terrified she had gone forever. Unable to speak the native language of Papua New Guinea and aware that some of the tribes were cannibals, Bill had to face his fears and ask a group of local people if they had seen his dog. At first, the language barrier looked as though it would stifle his enquiries but then his short impersonation of Smoky barking, raising a paw and standing on her hind legs was enough to communicate with the man who beckoned Bill to follow him. Leaving the dusty path, Bill followed full of eagerness to see Smoky again but all the time knowing he had no idea what he was going to see. When he stepped into the clearing, he could hear Smoky barking and his heart leapt in anguish until he recognized it was her happy bark. The village children were sitting around her and Smoky was running through her repertoire of tricks for them. The joy on their little faces was clear for all to see. The more laughter Smoky generated, the more she wanted to entertain. Bill felt almost guilty for depriving her of her enthusiastic audience. But Smoky didn’t mind. One look at Bill and she saw home and everything was good again. The children all kissed her goodbye and Bill and Smoky waved as they disappeared back through the jungle and found the pathway onto the main track. It was a surreal moment but another little miracle in the centre of the hostilities. A moment that, in any other time and circumstance, would have been ordinary. But not here and not now.

      The more Smoky established herself in the camp, the higher her profile became and there were always jealous eyes on her. She was small and cute. She was friendly and talented. And, although there were other canine mascots adopted by the soldiers, Smoky stood out from the crowd. It seemed that keeping her close to him was the only way Bill could be sure she would remain safe. The risk of losing her was too great to take.

      Smoky’s tricks became part of the daily entertainment in the camp, especially in the print room where Bill worked. Their impromptu shows were a welcome distraction from the pressure of the job and the fear that resulted from the random snippets of news they received about the status of the Japanese invasion and the war beyond their far-away section of the Pacific. Of course, news of Smoky’s talents spread beyond the confines of the 26th Camp and it didn’t take long for Yank Down Under magazine to track man and dog down. The magazine had launched a mascot competition and was keen for Bill to enter Smoky even though the squadron had already entered its existing mascot, a monkey called Colonel Turbo. At first, Bill was reluctant to take up the challenge. He could think of all the reasons why Smoky should not СКАЧАТЬ