WWIIF Pet Photos

so did our when we let go. but there's a saying about pets and their owner's meeting again. its call the rainbow bridge.

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together.
There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....

Author unknown...

 

Do little brothers count as pets? in that case I have one.

 

Don't know whether this Kittler was posted before.

 

Not sure what his name will be, but he already likes antlers.


KTK

 

You're in it now dood!

 

His name is Harvey.

KTK

 

And this is Queenie (Curly's ma) & Curly way back in 1946.

I think they both belonged to the Squadron cook but we all liked them.

Original story here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/ww2peopleswar/stories/75/a5062475.shtml

Ron

 

One of the few stories from the war my father would talk about when we were growing up was about a monkey they found in Germany. They called him Adolf.

Dad said Adolf would ride on the gearshift of the trucks. The cook had a little dog that would ride with him and when he stopped he'd tie the dog to the truck. Dad said Adolf would wait until no one was looking and then he'd jump on that dog and hold him down. The dog would make a terrible racket and cook would come after Adolf yelling and trying to hit him with something. Adolf would run to my dad and my dad would hold him and pet him, but as soon as the cook went back to work Adolf would head right for that dog again.

They were in a German city and they were at a pub or near a pub and the owner's wife had planted some flowers. Adolf went over to the flowers and began pulling them up, one by one, he'd examine them closely, toss them down and pull up the next one. When the lady saw what he was doing she chased him off with a broom and then she bent over and tried to replant the flowers, muttering all the while. Dad said it was just a few minutes and along came Adolf behind the woman and he hauled off and smacked her on the behind. He said the woman fell over and started screaming and Adolf just scampered over to Dad for protection.

Dad said he wanted to bring Adolf home with him, but couldn't for obvious reasons. I told him it was probably a good thing because his mother would have keeled over from the shock, thinking it was bad enough her unmarried son had come home with a baby, but that it was such an ugly one at that....Dad got a good chuckle out of that....

One of the treasures we were lucky enough to receive when met with one of dad's unit members in November was a photo of Adolf. I am not saying my father didn't give that monkey wine, that I don't know, but my dad is not the fellow in the photo.



View attachment 18544

 

One of the stories my dad told me was about sitting on a hillside with a German girl after the war (in adult hindsight, I'm sure some 'fraternization' was about to occur or had just occurred). This would have been down along the Czech border during occupation duties, a fairly wild and forested area. Anyway, a wolf loped up and the girl encouraged him to shoot it. He lifted his rifle and hesitated, then held a few inches over its head and let a shot go. The wolf ran off. The girl was disappointed he had missed, but he was just tired of death. I asked him how close the wolf had been and he just said "Well, it had yellow eyes..."

Not really a pet story...

 

this one caught my attention


This photo was taken in Tarawa in November, 1943. The little kitten “crept out from beneath a wrecked” tank. The U.S. Marine soldier, name unknown, offered water to the little one.

can you imagine a small kitten surviving all that hell ???

 

This photo was taken in Korea in 1953. The little kitten named Miss Hap was only two weeks old. She became an orphan because of war and was rescued by Marine Sergeant Frank Praytor. He adopted the kitten after the mother cat died from the war. According to the marine, the name was derived “because she was born at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

 

that is an awesome story. thanks for sharing. to bad he could not bring him home

 

a horse named Reckless

Reckless, the mare.

This horse was a packhorse during the Korean war, and she carried recoilless rifles, ammunition and supplies to Marines. Nothing too unusual about that, lots of animals got pressed into doing pack chores in many wars.

But this horse did something more..during the battle for a location called Outpost Vegas, this mare made 50 trips up and down the hill, on the way up she carried ammunition, and on the way down she carried wounded soldiers.

What was so amazing? Well she made every one of those trips without anyone leading her.

I can imagine a horse carrying a wounded soldier, being smacked on the rump at the top of the hill, and heading back to the “safety” of the rear. But to imagine the same horse, loaded with ammunition, and trudging back to the battle where artillery is going off, without anyone leading her is unbelievable.

To know that she would make 50 of those trips is unheard of. How many horses would even make it back to the barn once, let alone return to you in the field one single time.

So here is a clip of her story and photos to prove where she was and what she did..

[video=youtube;YIo3ZfA9da0]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YIo3ZfA9da0[/video]

She was retired at the Marine Corps Base in Camp Pendleton where a General issued the following order.She was not to carry anything on her back except her own blankets. She died in 1968 at the age of 20.

P.S. How bad was the battle for Outpost Vegas? Artillery rounds fell at the rate of 500 per hour, and only two men made it out alive without wounds. Just two. And a horse, and she was wounded twice.

 

Thanks, Namvet. I still love to hear my dad tell people about Adolf. The way he mimics Adolf looking at the flowers as he was pulling them up just makes the story....

 

BTY I live in the midwest to. in the kansas city, mo area

 

Mine detector dogs !



Abeille.Animal detecteur d'explosifs. Dinosoria

 

My dog Dakota.