by Ann Bausum
I made three trips to the National Museum of American History over the course of three years so that I could study Stubby’s scrapbook, and that research forms the core of this book’s content. Fortunately Smithsonian staffers have now made high-resolution scans of this artifact’s content. Nearly 100 years old, the scrapbook’s pages are no longer bound together (or in order, in my opinion), and its clippings have become aged and brittle. The scans will make it easier and safer for curators to share the album with Stubby’s fans.
I am particularly grateful to Kathy Golden, associate curator for the Smithsonian’s Division of Armed Forces History. Kathy is Stubby’s keeper, and she guards her charge with critical devotion. Having become convinced that I was serious about my pursuit of his story, she could not have been more gracious, supportive, or helpful to my work. I am particularly grateful for the arrangements she made that allowed Conroy’s descendants and me to spend a morning with her and Stubby’s archival material. Kathy’s colleague Kay Peterson, at the Archives Center for the National Museum of American History, hosted my other two visits with the scrapbook. She handles the digital files of the album, too, and provided the artwork for its reproductions in this book.
Connecticut librarians played an important role during my research. Pat Watson, head of adult services for the New Britain Public Library, provided an early cache of articles about Stubby that introduced me to previously unseen material. Later on I was able to visit in person with Pat and her colleague Oneil Cormier and conduct additional research on-site. Of particular help was the library’s collection of city directories. These pre-phone address books helped to confirm the living and working history of Conroy and his family members.
The best article in Stubby’s scrapbook, in my opinion, is one that lost its provenance on its way to preservation. “Three Canine War Heroes Enjoying Peace in Connecticut After Thrilling Trials Under Fire Along Western Front,” reads its title, but there are no clues as to where it was originally published. This feature-length profile of Stubby and fellow war dog veterans Tuck and Toute de Suite offers some of the only surviving quotes by Conroy about his companion. It is one of the few articles from Stubby’s lifetime to bear a byline, and its author, Bab Vickrey, offers firsthand accounts of Stubby’s personality and behavior. The article is so large that it never fit properly in the scrapbook. Over time, the overhanging edge of the clipping began to erode, and now the article literally breaks off at the point where the author describes Stubby’s behavior when he is petted.
Librarians, though, are not easily defeated by mysteries or dead ends. The scrapbook clipping did, at least, preserve a publication date, and my initial guess was that the story had appeared in Conroy’s own New Britain Herald. When that hunch proved incorrect, local librarian Pat Watson was able to identify the author as someone who had written for the Bridgeport Herald. Enter another wonderful Connecticut librarian, Mary Witkowski. She and her colleague Robert Jeffries traced the story to their local newspaper and provided me with an intact copy of the article.
My biggest break in the researching of this animal love story came thanks to one of those newspaper articles provided by Pat Watson. This clipping led me to Curtis Deane, Conroy’s eldest grandson. Curt became the living link to the past who helped me complete this book. Without Curt, Stubby’s trail essentially died with his passing in 1926. A couple of stray clippings gave hints of what followed—the loss and rediscovery of Stubby’s portrait, Conroy’s escape in 1954 from that D.C. fire—but Conroy had kept himself so much in the background during Stubby’s lifetime that he essentially vanished from the record after his friend’s death.
Curt helped to fill that gap, literally working in parallel to my efforts, tracking down birth certificates, digging out family records, introducing me to family members, and more. Curt knew about his grandfather’s association with the Bureau of Investigation, now the FBI, and he placed the Freedom of Information Act request that yielded his grandfather’s personnel file. The unearthing of this document served as another of the transformative moments during my research journey. When required to tell about himself, Conroy quite plainly stated his education and work history on FBI applications. Details previously unknown or only hinted at in newspaper clippings now could be placed within a coherent framework. Without this personnel file, Conroy would remain very much in the shadows in this book.
Research for a book is based on a combination of good luck and strategic, logical legwork. I wanted to write a book about Stubby, so it made sense to visit the Smithsonian. I wanted to write about World War I, so I toured the World War I Museum in Kansas City, Missouri—the nation’s only center devoted exclusively to this conflict.
And so it went. Conroy had grown up in New Britain, Connecticut; I traveled to see it. Conroy had trained and met Stubby on the Yale athletic fields; I toured the grounds of the Yale Bowl and walked the turf of the playing fields. I combed through the university’s archives for evidence of war-era activity, and I searched in vain for proof that Conroy had attended Yale, as his descendants thought (a mystery later solved by the FBI file’s clarification that he had audited his Yale classes, thus leaving him omitted from official rolls).
Conroy had served in the 26th Division, so I combed through related archives at the Army War College Institute for Military History in Carlisle, Pennsylvania. The Connecticut State Library, the West Haven Veterans Museum and Learning Center (home to Stubby’s portrait and other artifacts from the 102nd Regiment), Georgetown University, the homes of Conroy’s descendants—every stop helped.
Even such strategic study inevitably yields unexpected dividends. At Yale, for example, I found a treasure trove of period photographs from the war era, and I became engrossed by the annotated autograph books that were donated to the university by Elizabeth Hudson, an American nurse at the American Red Cross hospital in Neuilly, Paris. Likewise, at the Army War College Institute for Military History I encountered photographs by the archival-boxful that documented the life of the 26th Division. Such images not only become the illustrations for books like this one, they serve as incredibly rich primary source evidence of what soldiers did, how the military worked, and what things looked like in an earlier period—from equipment to dress to living conditions and more. Researchers such as I are forever indebted to the eyewitnesses who recorded such scenes and to the librarians and archivists who curate the past so that it stays alive.
Many others contributed to this book through email correspondence or phone calls. Mary Thurston, historian for the nation’s oldest pet cemetery in Hartsdale, New York, astutely pointed out the consistency with which Stubby’s photographs show him with flattened ears. Staffers at the National Guard Archives in Concord, Massachusetts, combed their records for evidence of Conroy’s outbound passage to Europe. John Fox, FBI historian, clarified a point of photo research for me. Jean Shulman provided details about the American Red Cross records related to Stubby. Everett G. Shepherd of the Connecticut American Legion introduced me to the state’s incredibly helpful Service Records, an annotated listing of all World War I service members from the Nutmeg State.
Every writer of nonfiction knows that research can go on forever but that deadlines require a pivot from gatherer to sharer. In Stubby’s case, I had the remarkable good fortune to be able to share this history not once, but twice. First I wrote about him for young people—Stubby the War Dog: The True Story of World War I’s Bravest Dog—a heavily illustrated history published by the children’s book division of the National Geographic Society simultaneously with the release of this accounting for adults. Turning from the first account to the second could have been a writer’s nightmare version of Groundhog Day. Thankfully it was not. I followed the writing of the first book with additional research, and I approached the adult book as a fresh assignment.
I’ve spent almost two decades writing for young people, and the opportunity to write for adults proved to be more liberating than I’d imagined and less terrifying than I’d feared.
After the work began, I found myself luxuriating in longer sentences and my natural vocabulary, freed from having to artfully weave in the contexts that adults take for granted. (Think, what is a bayonet? Or why didn’t they just use their cell phones? Or what was vaudeville?)
The team at the National Geographic Society could not have been more supportive. My colleagues in the children’s book division have equally wonderful counterparts working with adult books, starting with my editor, Bridget English. She believed in this story from the moment she heard of it. Her confidence and careful tending empowered and enabled me to bring it to life. I appreciate the transformative support of Janet Goldstein, editorial director of the adult book division; Susan Blair, director of photography for adult books, and her colleague Galen Young; Melissa Farris, who deserves a hearty cheer for her design of this book’s wonderful cover; as well as Katie Olsen for executing its interior layout. Many thanks to one and all.
Historians Edward G. Lengel and Michael E. Shay deserve double thanks. For starters, they each wrote masterly and invaluable histories of World War I—Lengel’s To Conquer Hell and Shay’s The Yankee Division in the First World War—which provided me with invaluable background information about the scene that Stubby and Conroy entered in 1917. Furthermore, each of these scholars thoughtfully reviewed my book in manuscript form, helping me clarify several points in the historical record. Curtis Deane likewise reviewed the manuscript for me and patiently answered my many queries, each of us determined to do the historical record proud.
Then, of course, there are the friends and family who stand behind any author’s creations. My parents, Henry and Dolores, inspire me with their good humor, creativity, and fortitude, even as they push toward and into their 90s. My 20-something sons, Sam and Jake, are the reasons I write. My brother, David, and his wife, Mary, are priceless friends as well as remarkable allies—at the ready with paintbrushes, for example, after I bought a new home, so that I could get back to Stubby that much faster and amidst cheery surroundings.
Writing friends include children’s book authors Jamie Swenson, who offered invaluable insights during her review of this manuscript, as well as Georgia Beaverson, Pam Beres, Karen Blumenthal, Judy Bryan, Elizabeth Fixmer, and Sue Macy. Personal friends, including Hester, Kedron, Marty, Peggy, and Shawn, watch me drop from sight—off on another research trail or hounded by deadlines—and wait patiently while I disappear, making the resurfacing that much sweeter.
Curtis Deane and his family have become friends and allies during the making of these books, one of those unexpected bits of lagniappe that comes from my line of work. And then, of course, I must thank Stubby himself—for being such a wonderful subject to explore, for reminding me how it felt, many years ago, to adore a dog, and for making it possible for me to imagine doing so again. What a gift!
APPENDIX
Stubby’s Uniform
An Annotated List of Medals and Decorations
Compiled by Ann Bausum, with the assistance of Kathy Golden, Associate Curator, Division of Armed Forces History, National Museum of American History, Smithsonian Institution.
Left flank, head to tail (14 items):
• Top, three-bar service stripe (equals 18 months of service)
• Middle, red honorable discharge stripe
• Bottom, 26th Yankee Division patch
• Top, Verdun medal (red ribbon with pencil stripes of white and blue)
• Bottom, General Service Button 25-ligne (1 of 4)
• American Legion badge from Minneapolis (red, white, and blue ribbon)
• New Haven World War I veterans medal Text, reverse side: To her sons who went forth to war that their homes might remain at peace 1917–1919
• France, commemorative medal for WWI (red and white striped ribbon)
Text, reverse side: République Française Grand Guerre 1914–1918
• Top, “Lindsay” Canadian maple leaf
• Bottom left, St. Mihiel medal (gold-red-gold ribbon)
Stubby’s military uniform rests protectively flattened in an archival storage box at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History. His wound stripe appears on the jacket’s right flank; his three service chevrons appear on the left, next to the decorative braid that spells his name.
• Bottom right, General Service Button 25-ligne (2 of 4)
• Purple Heart
• Château-Thierry medal (white ribbon)
• American Legion medal, from St. Paul, Minnesota, 5th/6th (faded ribbon)
Right flank, tail to head (18 items):
• “Foreign Service / American Red Cross” medal (blue and white ribbon)
• Upper, General Service Button 25-ligne (3 of 4)
• Lower, American Legion badge, from New Orleans (blue ribbon)
Text: engraved, Guest, 4th Annual Convention, New Orleans, American Legion; hand-printed, STUBBY
• Top, Maréchal Foch medal
• Middle, Chatillon (filigree medal with palm leaf design)
• Bottom, American Legion badge, 3rd convention, Kansas City (dark striped ribbon)
Text: engraved, Kansas City; typed, guest Stubby AEF Mascot
• Top left, Jeanne d’Arc medal Text: Jeanne 1412-1431 d’Arc
• Top right, crest from Brest, France
• Middle left, blue cross of Lorraine, perhaps emblem of 79th Infantry Division
• Middle right, Ste. Genevieve pin
• Bottom left, General Service Button 25-ligne (3 of 4)
• Bottom right, American Legion badge, tan and striped ribbon, Omaha
Text: engraved, 7th Annual Convention, Omaha, 1925; hand-printed, Stubby
• Top, Verdun medal, text on reverse: 21 Fevier 1916
Note: duplicate of Verdun medal on other flank of jacket, but this one has no ribbon or clasp.
• Bottom, U.S. World War I Victory Medal with five battle clasps (denoting battlefield service):
Champagne-Marne
Aisne-Marne
St. Mihiel
Meuse-Argonne
Defensive Sector
• Humane Education Society medal
Text: Stubby May 13, 1921; this is the medal awarded by General Pershing
• Top, wound stripe
• Bottom, 26th Yankee Division patch
• Far right, VFW badge, for Stubby (red, white, and blue ribbon)
General adornment (3 items):
• Center, back, Victory patch (embroidered wreath–flags of Allies)
• Center, front, overcoat button that holds the coat together with 35-ligne general service button
• Left flank, partly covered by medals, “Stubby 102nd US INF” braid sewn to fabric
TIME LINE
1892
• James Joseph Conroy, later known as J. Robert Conroy, is born on February 27 in New Britain, Connecticut, the third of six children.
1899
• James P. Conroy, father of J. Robert Conroy, dies on September 25 in New Britain, Connecticut.
1912
• Woodrow Wilson is elected the 28th President of the United States. He is sworn in on March 4, 1913.
1913
• Alice McAvay Conroy, mother of J. Robert Conroy, dies on March 15 in New Britain, Connecticut.
1914
• The assassination of Archduke Francis Ferdinand on June 28 sets off events that lead to World War I. The German invasion of Belgium on August 4 marks the beginning of combat. President Wilson declares U.S. neutrality in the conflict.
1915
• The sinking of the Lusitania on May 7 elevates the tensions between the United States and Germany.
1916
• Woodrow Wilson wins reelection with the campaign slogan, “He kept us out of war.” His Second Inaugural ceremony occurs on March 5, 1917.
1917
• On February 1, Kaiser Wilhelm II announces that his nation will soon resume submarine attacks on nonwarring ships bound for Allied ports. The surfacing
of the so-called Zimmerman telegram later that month increases the likelihood that the United States will join the war.
• On April 6, the United States declares war on Germany and prepares to enter the fight.
• Conroy enlists in the Connecticut National Guard on May 21, the first step toward joining the U.S. Army. Soon after, he begins his military training on the athletic fields of Yale University in New Haven, Connecticut.
• On June 14, Maj. Gen. John J. Pershing and his team of advisers settle in France so they can plan for the arrival of American forces later in the year.
• A stray dog befriends Conroy and other service members during the summer at their training ground in Connecticut. They name him Stubby, and he begins to live alongside them and shadow their routines.
• Conroy’s National Guard unit becomes a part of the 26th or Yankee Division of the U.S. Army; Conroy departs Connecticut with members of the 102nd Infantry in September, bound for Newport News, Virginia. Stubby tags along.
• When Conroy’s unit heads to Europe aboard the Minnesota, Conroy arranges for Stubby to be smuggled aboard. They reach France in early October and head inland for further training.
1918
• Conroy and Stubby reach the front lines of France on February 5 to help defend battle lines along the Chemin des Dames highway. Stubby experiences his first gas attack there in late March.
• On April 5, Conroy receives his first military promotion, to private 1st class.
• In early April, the Yankee Division begins defending territory near Toul, France. Several weeks later, on April 20, Stubby is seriously wounded by shrapnel during what becomes known as the battle of Seicheprey. He spends six weeks in a military hospital recovering from his injuries before rejoining Conroy and his unit.