Doveland (12 page)

He raised his head to judge the distance of the ground soldiers hunting for the downed carrier, but he could not see through his blood-filled eye. He lay helpless on the ground, unable to move. His breathing became rapid as his energy dissipated. Believing his mission was over, he waited patiently for a bayonet to put him out of his misery.

While lying there, he remembered the Corporal's last words. “You are our only hope.” With a determined spirit to save the troops, he painfully moved his leg out from under his bloody feathers. Digging his claw into the mud, he was able to gradually move his body toward the edge of the ridge, where he was able to regain his flight before he hit the ground below.

Meanwhile, the Corporal had just watched their last carrier go down, and reported it immediately to the Major. They looked at each other with the realization that defeat was just a matter of time. The Major sat down to quickly write a last letter to his wife.

As the enemy soldiers arrived where the carrier went down, they found a bloody trail leading to the ledge. Looking over the side
into the smoky woods below, there was a consensus that the carrier could not have survived the fall.

Instead of venturing out into the open sky, Clovis scaled the forest floor, dodging trees and shrubs through artillery smoke that provided ground cover. He had to conserve his energy for the biggest challenge ahead, climbing the second ridge.

Leaping out of the forest, he quickly made his way up the ridge over the enemy troops, undetected for the moment. He was unable to fully navigate his left wing, veering slightly off course. When the carrier was detected, enemy artillery decreased. When the shelling stopped, the Corporal climbed the hill to see why there were only single rifle shots, then motioned for the Major to join him. The Major took the binoculars and watched as their carrier successfully cleared the second ridge. The Corporal became concerned.

“Don't you think he's a little off course, sir?”

The Major agreed.

“He may be wounded.”

The two officers returned to the trenches and gave the troops the good news. The carrier had made it to base headquarters. The Doughboys cheered and waved their rifles in the air.

When Clovis found headquarters, he alerted the sentry by passing directly above him, then began circling the area to make a landing he did not feel he would survive.

“Message arriving!” yelled the sentry. Weak and exhausted from loss of blood, Clovis coasted toward the ground, but his dangling legs crumpled upon impact, propelling his little body into a rolling skid on the ground that rendered him unconscious.

The sentry removed the message from the canister and immediately handed it to the waiting field commander. After he read the message with their exact location, he called for an immediate rescue effort. The field commander looked down at the injured carrier and instructed the sentry, “Don't bury him yet; let the Major handle it.”

“Yes, sir.”

The sentry took off his helmet and lined it with his handkerchief. One wing had been broken on impact. He carefully lifted the carrier's wounded body, as his head dangled.

The soldier brought the carrier to the medical officer with the field commander's order to hold him for the Major. The medical officer returned the helmet after transferring Clovis into a small burial box. There were three gunshot wounds; his chest, his covert, and his head. He began to wipe the mud from his wings, then lightly wiped the blood from his injured eye. When the dove flinched, the medical officer was shocked that the bird was still alive, and made sure he was on the next medic truck to the base hospital.

When the Major was rescued, news circulated that the war may be ending. He requested to be taken to the base hospital to find the carrier that had saved his division. Upon his arrival, he met with the veterinarian, and found the carrier wrapped in bandages. The Major wanted to know if the bird was in any pain, and the doctor assured him there was numbness at this stage.

“Will he recover?”

“Hard to tell,” the doctor continued, “Couldn't save his eye; his wing will heal with time; there may be permanent damage on the covert, so don't know if he will fly again.”

“Do whatever you can, Doc.”

“Hundreds and hundreds of these birds have been killed or mutilated in this darn war.”

“They have saved thousands of lives.”

“When all else failed.” The doctor agreed.

The doctor told the Major that he had done everything he could for the bird, and would release the bird to him the following day.

The Major would work offshore at the base until it was time to return to the states. He rented a one room flat on the second floor of an apartment house. Furnishings included a bed, dresser, and a wooden writing table with two candles. The window overlooked the town with a city park a short walk away.

Returning to the base hospital the next morning, the Major was ready to take the bird with him. He was greeted by one of the
medical officers who attended the carrier. He seemed to have urgent business with the Major. The Major thanked the medical officer for transporting the carrier to the base hospital.

“We've searched our documents, sir, and could not find any record of this carrier. Since these birds are commissioned by the AEF to carry messages. . .” The Major interrupted.

“His name is Little Buddy; be sure that gets into the report,” ordered the Major. “He is to receive full honor for saving our unit.”

“Done, sir,” he said as he walked away.

The doctor handed the Major a small box of medical supplies and materials needed for the bird's sutures and told him to bring him back in two weeks for a checkup. He waited while an identification band was placed on the carrier's leg. Once the Major was alone with the bird, he whispered, “You really are Little Buddy, aren't you?”

After a few moments passed, it was finally time to leave the base hospital with the carrier. The Major was grateful for his service, and was anxious to take care of him. When he returned to
his room, he placed a clean towel on the dresser, and removed him from the pigeon basket. He opened the window shutters for light. While standing there, he gazed up at the town belfry where he whispered a silent prayer that the little bird would recover. He sat down at the writing desk and began to pen a letter home. Soon he was drawn to the window as good news swept through the streets. Loud cheering filled the air with gathering crowds, sounds of drums, and allied flags were raised in the air.

And so, on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day, of the eleventh month, the war officially ended, and armistice was declared on November 11, 1918.

The Major returned to the writing table, happy and excited.

“The war's officially over, did you hear that, Little Buddy?”

The Major would never know how long Clovis had waited to hear those words. But, his dreams of returning home would take much longer than he anticipated. For now, he was wrapped in bandages, unable to move.

One day the Major received mail from home. His wife had sent a newspaper clipping from the states. “Ha!” he laughed out loud. “Germany has said that the reason they lost the war was due to poor communication. What do you think about that, Little Buddy?”

As he continued to read the letter silently, Clovis became tearful as he realized that their exploits along the allied trench lines may not have been in vain after all. He quietly murmured, “Did you hear that, Homer?”

By Christmas, 1918, many allied soldiers had left France. Spirits were high as civilians strolled up and down village streets singing Christmas carols.

The Corporal and his comrades visited the Major. They had built a large cage for the carrier that saved their unit.

“Merry Christmas, Sir, from me and the fellows,” said the Corporal, opening the door of the cage.

“Hey, thanks, it's great.” The major placed Clovis in his new home. But, the cage was not a home for Clovis; it was captivity.

When spring finally arrived, it was warm enough to visit the park. The Major placed the little bird inside his jacket, much like the pigeoneers did during the war. When they reached the park, the Major placed him on an army blanket. His breast was badly singed, and there was a pockmark over his injured eye. Frustration set in when his left leg collapsed each time he tried to stand up.

“Easy boy, it's going to take time.”

His efforts toward a quick recovery outweighed his physical capabilities. For the next several weeks, Clovis stepped around in his cage, and tried to strengthen his covert by pulling himself up to the swing bar. The Major took him to the park almost every day after work, until he was finally able to fly again. After awhile, the Major felt confident enough to leave Clovis in the park, and meet up with him after work. All he had to do was whistle, and Clovis would land on his shoulder for the walk home.

One day while in the park, Clovis noticed another dove watching him from a nearby tree. She had gray feathers with white wing tips that gracefully folded as she flew over to join him.

“Who are you?”

“I am the Colonel's Lady.”

Clovis was unsure whether to tell her his real name or his given name. He decided to live in the present. “I am called Little Buddy.”

“Are you the carrier that saved the Doughboys?”

“Yes.”

“So you're a war hero!”

Clovis humbled himself as he thought about no man's land.

“Fallen soldiers lie unburied on the battlefields ~ their bravery forgotton. They are the true heroes, my lady.”

“You're a hero just the same, and I'm sure you're getting a medal just like me.”

“Were you in the war?”

“Yes, indeed, I once raced an airplane, both of us carrying the same message, and I beat the airplane to our destination!”

“You deserve a medal!”

Since it was such a lovely clear day, they decided to fly all around the park. She told Clovis she lived at the base camp, and had to return before dark.

“I leave before dark, too.”

“Are you happy, Little Buddy?”

“I don't think I could always live in captivity.”

“But they take such good care of you! Soon I'll be going away on a ship far across the sea.”

“I'm sure you will be happy.”

At the end of the day, they planned to meet at the same time the next day. They spent days visiting the woodlands beyond the park, sometimes foraging in private gardens. The days always ended the same. She would return to the base, and he would listen for the Major's whistle.

Before long, it was time for the Colonel's Lady to leave France. She met up with Clovis once again.

“I came to say goodbye, Little Buddy.”

“I will miss you.”

The Colonel's Lady suddenly began to cry. “Oh, Little Buddy, I would fly into the wild with you right now if you would be my mate.”

He tried to discourage her. “You don't want an old broken down bird like me.”

“But I do,” further demonstrating her sincerity by moving toward him, and rubbing her head against his singed chest.

Instead of opening his beak and accepting her as his mate, he remained motionless, and she backed away.

“My dear, Lady,” he explained, “I already have a mate, and my family is waiting for me to come home.”

“You do?”

“My real name is Clovis, not Little Buddy.”

“Do they live in France?”

“No, Belgium.”

Clovis welcomed her to join the community in West Flanders, but she declined. It was time to say goodbye. They parted company, and Clovis would never see the Colonel's Lady again.

After the departure of his friend, he flew to the edge of the pond where he watched a family of wild ducks. As they approached the shore, one of the little ducklings came out of the water ahead of the others.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“My name is Clovis, what's yours?”

“Cheppie. Why are you watching us?”

“I was just thinking about my own family and . . .”

Suddenly mama duck came splashing out of the water to rescue her wandering duckling. In a firm tone, she scolded him as she led him away. “Don't ever go near that bird again! Can't you see there's something wrong with him?”

Clovis was stunned by her unfriendly remark. Despite his visible wounds, he felt fortunate to have survived the war. The disparaging comment by the mama duck, along with the recent loss of a friend, brought deep feelings of heartache and loneliness. He paused at the edge of the park and envisioned how his family would welcome his return home. With a sense of immediate freedom before him, his dream of escaping into the wide open sky began to consume him. In the background, he could hear the Major's whistle, and wondered if he would ever be free again. For now, his wings were grounded by an officer's trust, as he could only envision
his heart leaping into the open blue sky to fulfill his dream of reuniting with his precious Dove Lillian.

The Major received word that he would soon be returning to the states. Because it was his last night abroad, the Corporal told the Major that a couple of French soldiers had invited the Doughboys to join them for a game of cards. With his carrier on his shoulder, the Major and his comrades were set to play. After awhile, it was the Major's turn to deal the cards. He proceeded to play five card draw. Clovis had watched the Tommies play cards in the trenches, and recognized the numbers. The Major pulled three cards for replacement.

“Tr-rr-r,” he warned.

The Major smiled, and gave himself two cards instead. The Major had two threes, and one ace. He drew another three, and another ace. With a full house, the Major won a blue French uniform, with red trousers. The Corporal had won an army blanket from the Major, and the two Frenchmen won a canteen, and a pair of binoculars from the Americans.

The Corporal told the Major that the Doughboys in their unit wanted to see their little war hero fly around the courtyard before they left the following morning. The Major smiled proudly and approved their request.