Smoky, the Dog That Saved My Life. Nancy Roe Pimm

She pulled on the leash and spun in circles, wagging her tail wildly. Bill grinned, relieved to see that she seemed healthier and happier than he remembered. He decided to call her Smoky. He untied the leash, and brought the dog back to the tent he shared with Downey.

      Downey, lying on his cot, looked up and yelled, “I don’t want a mutt in my tent!”

      Bill stated calmly, “She’s staying.”⁷

      An icy silence filled the tent that night. Bill tossed and turned, always mindful of the dog on his cot. Where did she come from? How did she end up in a foxhole in a war zone? Was this breed native to New Guinea, or could she have come over with the Japanese?

      Bill soon gave up on his obsession to discover where she came from and worried more about what to feed her. The dog’s ribs poked out from beneath her silky fur. The soldiers had lived on coffee, dehydrated potatoes, powdered milk, eggs, bacon, sausage, ham, mutton, citric acid, canned fruit, and bully beef, a type of canned hash. The amount of salt used to preserve the food in the tropics made most of it nearly inedible. After lots of experimenting, Bill learned Smoky preferred to share Bill’s eggs, bacon, sausage, ham, and bully beef.

      The soldiers had orders to wash and shave every day. Bill used his helmet as a sink, and after his morning routine, he plopped Smoky in the helmet for her daily bath to keep her free from ticks.