A Dog With a Destiny

by Isabel George

  When back with the 26th, Bill recounted the details of the flight as he gave Smoky some much demanded attention. They were not often apart but it was going to be that way for some time now while Bill was in the air. But a random comment from one of the guys had Bill thinking differently: ‘Hey, Wynne, if you get knocked off, I can have Smoky, can’t I?’ It was something Bill had not thought about, or rather had not wanted to, but knowing Smoky’s fate had already been discussed in his absence made Bill sad and extremely angry. There was no way he was going to leave his dog’s life in anyone else’s hands. After all, he firmly believed that fate, God, or something had delivered Smoky to him and so it was his responsibility to look after her. He made the decision quickly and decisively: ‘From now on she goes with me. If it happens, we go down together.’ The men could see that he meant every word and said no more about it. Meanwhile, Bill took the canvas musette bag and checked the tie-down straps and the buckles and he could see how the bag’s shoulder strap could be fixed around his waist and not interfere with a parachute. The plan was complete. From now on, Smoky would be his flying buddy.

  * * *

  Bill’s next twelve missions would be in Catalina PBY-5As, otherwise known as Cats (army designation OA-10). These majestic flying boats were an integral part of 3rd Emergency Rescue Squad and flying at a maximum altitude of 13,000 feet Bill knew he could take Smoky with him as there would be no need for oxygen and he could still hide the dog in the musette bag without detection. After a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs, Bill and Smoky were ready for their first recon flight in a Catalina. A pre-flight briefing was a chance to remind the crews of the local dangers should they crash land. A ditched air crew was a valuable commodity in the jungle. Not all the villagers were friendly to the Allies: some were pro-Japanese. Others, in Dutch New Guinea, were known to have eaten at least three US airmen.

  The crew of a Catalina numbered eight people: the pilot, co-pilot, navigator, engineer mechanic, radio operator, two medics and a waist gunner. Bill, as aerial photographer, was crew member number nine. He was positioned next to the gunner in the window blister, a .50 calibre machine gun at his side. The medics doubled as gunners. Smoky was a stowaway and delivering her best performance ever, staying still and quiet until Bill was able to divulge her presence. Everyone understood why he had brought her along and it was agreed she could stay and the safest place for her bag was to hang off the top bunk. It was within Bill’s reach and that was all that mattered.

  It was 3 a.m. when they took off on the mission to rescue a squadron pilot missing in action. Although the plane was on a rescue and reconnaissance mission, it did not have distinctive Red Cross markings. It was marked up the same as an American war plane and was equipped to return fire. They were headed for the island of Ceram, west of the New Guinea coast and as dawn broke they entered their search area. Bill knew the lost pilot, had flown with him and that made the mission personal. He was determined to scour every inch of terrain for signs of life. But there was nothing. Suddenly and violently, the plane was pitched into a squall and everything went black. They were flying blind and being buffeted from all sides. Wrestling to keep control, the pilot climbed to 12,000 feet but the storm was still with him. The Catalina was now at the mercy of the storm and the search mission had become a matter of survival. Bill put his hand over the musette bag where Smoky was hopefully still asleep. He resisted the urge to look inside because he knew he would want to take her out and hold her but it was unsafe to do that while the plane was lurching and rolling. She was safer in the bag and while she was still and quiet, Bill was reassured. He couldn’t help wondering how long she could stay quiet and calm as the storm raged around them but he hoped it would be until they entered the home stretch. For four hours the pilot, co-pilot and the navigator worked flat out to get the crew of nine men and one dog home. What had started out as a routine search had become one more victory over the violent and unpredictable weather. They were exhausted and, thankfully, as they entered the skies over Biak, the clouds lifted giving them clearance to land.

  Safely back on solid ground, the men sat in the plane for a while just allowing their minds and bodies to calm. Bill unhooked the strap of the musette bag from the top bunk and put the bag over his shoulder. He felt along the bottom seam of the canvas and it was warm. He could just about feel the rise and fall of her tiny breaths; she was fine. He thanked the Good Lord and anyone else watching over them all. It was Smoky’s first experience in the air and she had survived alongside Bill.

  From that moment, they flew with many other crews and all of them welcomed Smoky as one of the team. It became routine that as Bill boarded the Catalina he would hang the canvas bag, with Smoky inside, on the edge of the upper bunk for the flight. On the longer flights, Bill would let her run around on the bunk for short periods just so she could stretch her legs and be reassured everything was fine. Sometimes the vibration and the loud hum of the engines was not a rhythmic comfort for her but just a loud noise that made her bark. But she was happy to be with Bill and sensing he was there made everything all right. Even when a flight turned out to be more hazardous than first thought, Bill would make sure Smoky was a happy passenger. He never took risks with his dog’s safety and, at the same time, would never have compromised the pilot or any other crew member during a mission. He need not have worried about upsetting anyone, everyone was glad to have her along for the ride. Those precious moments when she was allowed out to play were special for the entire crew. They provided a short, surreal interlude from reality. Smoky had the ability to make people smile when there was very little to smile about.

  One night, the Catalina with Bill and Smoky on board was due to take off at 3 a.m. to cover a bombing attack on Borneo. The bombers to follow at 5 a.m. and the fighters at 7 a.m. but bad weather halted the second and third wave leaving the ground. Consequently, the Catalina was heading for the target area alone. Not equipped for combat, the plane was now extremely vulnerable to enemy fire while still battling the weather. Bill had the aerial camera poised to take shots. It was almost impossible for the pilot to control the Catalina into a good position for Bill to take the shots he was looking for. The mantra for any recon squadron was to get in, get the shots and get out as quickly as possible but this flight was proving challenging on all fronts. The tension in the body of the plane was palpable. They sensed it was only a matter of time before enemy fighter planes would pick them up and then bring them down. Smoky was blissfully oblivious to the anxiety shared by the humans around her. It was later, when the situation was calm enough for Bill to bring her out of the bag, that everyone was able to feel the benefit of this little dog’s presence. That was one of the wonderful things about Smoky: just knowing she was there was a comfort and for many crews she became a good luck talisman at a time good fortune was at a premium.

  When preparing to board for another thirteen-hour mission, Smoky decided to turn her last ‘relief’ break into a dash across the runway. It was 3 a.m. and pitch black but she could see where she was headed. Bill ran about 500 feet before he caught up with her and gave her a piece of his mind. He wasn’t really angry with her for running free, he understood that she probably realized what lay ahead and it’s possible she made up her mind that she would rather just play in the grass. She was a dog, after all. Bill was not really angry with her. His anger came from the thought that she could have strayed under the wheels of a plane or an airfield Jeep and been killed. For the rest of the crew, Smokey’s reluctance to fly was interpreted as an omen. When Bill had Smoky held firmly under his arm, he climbed the ladder into the belly of the Catalina. The crew stared at him and his dog in silence. Was it a bad omen? Did she delay the take off for a reason? Maybe it was to protect them from something awaiting them up there? Maybe the delay was important and prevented them being caught up in a storm of the dreaded Black Rain? Whatever it was that caused Smoky to run that morning and however superstitious the crew felt, it showed one thing: Smoky was considered one of them
and she was important to each and every crew she flew with.

  Smoky became something of a celebrity amongst the Catalina crews, particularly 3 ERS who flew with her those twelve times. Bill no longer had to keep her a secret from everyone but it was still essential that she was safe and secure during the flights when Bill had to concentrate on taking those crucial shots with the K-24 aerial camera. She spent most flights wrapped in a wool blanket to keep out the cold at high altitudes. It may not have always been the most comfortable environment for a dog but it was where she was closest to Bill and that was most important. This was a true partnership. Whether in the belly of a Catalina, at the foot of the US GI’s cot or trudging through the New Guinea jungle, man and dog were together. Smoky flew because Bill flew and so everyone around them had the benefit of the dog’s calming company.

  Bill always used his non-flying time to teach Smoky some new tricks and he decided that he could teach her to ride a scooter. So, with just a few clever moves with his Bowie knife, Bill constructed a foot-long scooter out of a wooden orange crate. Pulleys and roller bearings salvaged from the engineers doubled as wheels. It was a runaway success. Someone found pots of red and white paint from somewhere and painted the scooter red with white wheels and the name Smoky along the footplate. The scooter and Smoky made their debut before a small but appreciative crowd of GIs on Biak Island. This sublime scene was to be recalled in sharp contrast against the turn the war was about to take for Smoky and for Bill.

  The gravel-throated hum of the Catalina’s engines echoed in Bill’s head. It was a sound that had become so much a part of him that even a moment of silence was deafening. One mid-October afternoon, as the crew were heading back to Biak, Bill was trying to think of something other than the engine noise when he caught sight of a massive fleet of warships. Through the shifting cloud he could see the convoy heading in the opposite direction. Immediately, the pilot dipped the Catalina’s wings to show that it was friendly and just in time too as two Navy Corsairs swooped in to challenge them. Bill could make out battleships, cruisers, carriers and destroyers. The vast movement of naval hardware just kept moving and from the air it seemed the translucent blue of the Pacific was being swallowed-up by a dense pall of gunmetal grey. It took thirty minutes for the Catalina to pass over the naval convoy from beginning to end. Bill later discovered that the ships were heading for Leyte Gulf where they would engage in what was acknowledged by many as the largest naval battle in history.

  The Battle of Leyte Gulf took place between 23 and 26 October 1944 and comprised four distinct engagements all fought off the island. It featured the largest battleships ever built – the Japanese Yamato and Musashi – who actually engaged each other in the battle. It was also the first time the Allies had encountered Japanese kamikaze aircraft. The pilots were young and zealous and ready to experience honour in death. The Battle of Leyte Gulf had been a long time coming. Since the Japanese sent their carrier-based aircraft to attack Pearl Harbor in December 1941, the United States of America and the entire Allied Force knew the Emperor had a plan of action. In fact, he had two: one for the east and one for the south. For the east, Pearl Harbor would be followed by the taking of the Philippines and then Guam and Wake to stifle the American communication system. In the south, he would attack Malaya and Hong Kong and then launch a systematic bombardment of the Bismark Archipelago, Java and Sumatra. This would then leave New Zealand and Australia totally isolated. For some months, the Japanese invasion of the Philippines looked impossible to stop. On 8 May 1942, the 80,000 soldiers of the US and Philippine Army were ordered to surrender the islands.

  It had not helped that the US had divided their control over military activities in the Pacific. General Douglas MacArthur had been appointed Supreme Allied Commander South West Pacific. Meanwhile, the US Navy was under Admiral Chester Nimitz, giving him control of the rest of the Pacific Ocean. Two great men with one immensely hard job to do. The surrender highlighted the need for the Allies to pull together. By the time Bill Wynne received his call papers in Ohio, the tide had turned for the Japanese.

  The skill of the code-breakers was critical if the US Forces were to be one step ahead of the enemy. Discovering an imminent attack on Port Moresby in New Guinea, in May 1942 Admiral Nimitz rushed the aircraft carrier USS Lexington to join the USS Yorktown and the American–Australian Task Force with orders to confront the Japanese attack. Port Moresby could not fall to the enemy. If it did, Japan would have control of the seas to the north of Australia. What followed was the Battle of the Coral Sea: a naval battle fought between the aircraft based on the carriers. The carriers did not meet or exchange fire but the damage they caused was enough to send the Japanese into retreat. Although at great losses, the Allied victory secured Port Moresby.

  The Battle of Midway in June 1942was to prove critical in the Pacific War. The Japanese had relied on superior gun power to win over the opposition but this sea battle was about superiority in the air and the US claimed that advantage. The Japanese were then unable to force a ground battle leaving the US Navy calling the shots. The Japanese Navy was feeling the strain of not being able to repair and replace its hardware as swiftly as the Americans. All over New Guinea, the effects of these battles were being reflected on land. By late 1942, the Japanese were retreating in the highlands of New Guinea and with the assistance of Australian Forces the US was able to capture the Buna-Gona beachhead in early 1943. This had been a key position for the Japanese invasion. The Allied leaders of the Asian and Pacific Theatres – Chinese leader Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek, US President Franklin D. Roosevelt and British Prime Minister Winston Churchill – met in Cairo to discuss the way ahead with Japan. In June 1943, the Allies launched Operation Cartwheel which defined the strategy for the South Pacific. The plan was to starve the Japanese out of their base at Rabaul and sever the communication lines. This prepared the way for Nimitz’s target to reach Japan or at least get close enough to launch a series of strategic air attacks to facilitate invasion. The Allies’ movement across the Pacific seizing one island after another was underway. The use of submarines in the Pacific War had previously been underestimated. Now they became one of the single most powerful forces capable of crippling the Japanese. US subs were responsible for destroying 56 per cent of the enemy’s merchant ships. Mines and aircraft were responsible for the rest. They were used in reconnaissance and, as in the Battle of Midway had sighted the enemy fleet approaching giving the Allies the advantage. They were also responsible for saving many lives, especially of downed flyers.

  When 128,000 US Army troops and Marines landed on the island of Saipan on 15 June 1944, the objective was to create the airfields that were to send B-29s over Tokyo. The plan had been devised over ninety days and it had to work because it was imperative the Allies secure the island. It was equally important to the Japanese Commanders to retain it. And to do this, they would have to destroy the US Fifth Fleet which comprised 15 carriers with 956 planes, seven battleships, 28 submarines, 69 destroyers and several cruisers. Admiral Raymond A. Spruance was in command. The opposition, under Vice Admiral Jisaburo Ozawa was outclassed and outnumbered by the Allies. But this battle was all about strategy and the one advantage Ozawa had was that his fighter planes were lighter than the US Navy Hellcat and therefore had a greater range. By positioning his fleet 300 miles out, he could attack the US carriers, land at Guam to refuel and then hit again. It could have worked if the planes had not arrived in staggered sequence allowing the US Hellcats to pick them off. Nimitz’s carriers had individual combat information centres and were onto the Japanese plan right away. The Emperor’s Navy was virtually destroyed. And Saipan was in US hands.

  When General Douglas MacArthur waded ashore at Leyte on 20 October 1944 he was flanked by the Sixth United States Army. His landing had been the result of successful bombardment by air and sea which cleared the way through. While the Sixth Army continued its advance from the east and the enemy tried to re-enforce their position from the west, the US
Fifth Air Force was able to stop the Japanese attempts to resupply. Even though, by 7 December, the US Army was in control and the Allies had cut off the Japanese ability to supply Leyte, fierce battles were still taking place. Neither side was going to let go of their prize easily. It was into this background that Bill and Smoky went into battle.

  Around the same time Bill saw the convoy of ships heading for Leyte, he received news that he was due combat leave having notched up seventy-three hours flying time in thirteen missions over ten weeks. He had been expecting a response to his application for promotion but this news was just as good. He packed for ten days R & R in Sydney and hitched a ride on a Transport Command C-47. Of course, Smoky took leave too as there was no way Bill would go anywhere without her. But their break was not to be the restful time they had hoped for – man and dog still managed to have a few adventures.

  One night, while sheltering from a storm with several friends, Bill chose the right place to stand. Suddenly there was a loud crack and crash! A huge tree had fallen on the group and pinned several people to the ground – all except Bill, who was the only person to escape unhurt. Recounting the story to a tail gunner from the Jolly Roger 90th Bomber Group, the man told him: ‘You are being saved for a bullet!’ A part of Bill believed that too. There were so many times the ending could have been so different but somehow the good luck kept running on.