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J-avorite War StoricS
(The first one is told by Fulton Lewis, Jr.)
When overseas recently, reporting for Mutual on the progress of the European war, I was driven up to the German town of Rott at the front lines. Returning that evening, we were forced to travel a bad road, fhat had been made progressively worse by shell craters that pitted the pathway.
A short way out of Rott, we were hailed by two soldiers who were hiking 19 miles to keep a date they had made in a r;ccntly liberated town across the German border. We stopped and picked them up.
After a mile or two at this snail-like pace, one of the soldiers, impatient for his date, remarked that if we only had a flashlight of the dimout variety issued by the Army we could make much better time.
"Hm-m-m-m!" mused the second soldier sighting an MP standing by the road He leaped out as we stopped, went over to the MP, asked some strictly unnecessary questions about directions, put his arm around the man and started telling him a joke.
After the MP had finished his laugh, the soldier came quickly back to our car. hopped in and said: "Now, let's get out of here fast!"
When we had left the MP five minutes behind, the soldier proudly produced — a dimout flashlight. The military cop had had his pockets very professionally picked, and needless to say, we proceeded at a much faster pace.
(The second comes from Cecil Brown)
When the U. S. First Army moved into Belgium, a group of its signalmen paused one day to admire the spunk of a little
puppy
The love of an American boy for a dog prompted these hard-bitten signalmen to make friends wth the unknown pup. They named him "Tuffy," and when it was time to move on toward the German frontier, Tuffy went along as mascot.
East they went across Belgium — the First Army and Tuffy. Day and nights in fox holes, long rides over shell-pocked roads in jeeps, snacks from cans of array rations, fitful but trustful sleep in the arms of American doughboys — such was the life of Tuffy.
Then came the German breakthrough in the Belgian Bulge. German tanks and infantry came pouring into the American lines. Doughboys fell back. Some hid; among these, one little group of nine, plus Tuffy, in a handy cellar.
Suddenly heavy footsteps approached. The cellar doors were flung back. TEe Americans froze to the walls as did Tuffy. Two Germans peered in.
The Americans exchanged whispers of mutual joy and relief when the Nazis left. Tuffy, seeming to sense the elation of the men, could contain himself no longer. He barked!
The strong, shm fingers of an American doughboy closed over Tuffy's nose and mouth. When he continued to bark they supped to Tuffy's neck and tightened.
Footsteps came and went. The hours dragged on. Finally, there was silence.
Then, trying hard to be matter-of-fact about it, the nine battle-hardened American soldiers went up the cellar stiirs and into the sun, to dig a grave for Tuffy.