My Dog Fido, 1942


a

THREE DOGS loll in the cool afforded by the shadow of the wing
of a small, battle-damaged fighter plane.
"My name is Champion Felcourt Swell of Paddington," says the
first, a Sealyham Terrier.
"My name is Champion Haworth Phoebus," says the second,
a French Bulldog.
"My name is Fido," says the third, a mutt.
"Fido . . .?" the first pure bred asks in condescending curiosity,
"how do you spell it?"
"P-H-Y-D-E-A-U-X," replies the mutt.
"Oh, merde," the three dogs (close friends all) groan in unison
and roll over and stretch luxuriously in the enjoyment of the popular
joke.
MY NAME is Fido. By nature I am a dog; by trade I am currently
a mercenary. I belong to a small cadre of animals hired out by their
masters to act as mascots for certain soldiers and sailors involved in
foreign wars. Our group is distinguishable for voluntary animal or-
ganizations (such as the K-9 Corps) in that the duties we are under
contract to perform are beyond those expected of the average
American dog-on-the-street. That is, they are unusual, and some-
times cruel, duties. Part of the special nature of our work stems
from the locations to which we are assigned. Typically, we are at-
tached to small units in advance of or in lieu of major military
commitment. This means that local customs and laws remain in ef-
fect, at least during our tours of duty. Sometimes this involves
no more than petty inconvenience in the form of dog orinances
requiring that we be penned up or on a leash except when accompan-
ied by an owner. On the other hand, as in my present circumstance
at the Wunming aerodrome in China, local practice has it that
dogs out to be captured, fattened, and butchered for food.
But regional complications aside, our daily, commonplace duties
most threaten our well-being and this, I assume, is why money is
paid for our services at all. And a curous thing Is that the men we are
usually assigned to (again, to illustrate from my present circum-
stance: a small group of fighter-pilots) ignore the fact or never
realize we are not there solely for the sake of associating with
them. So they treat-us as pets and assume that what pleases them
in turn pleases us. At least they are pleased when we seem to mimic
what they do. A single example will suffice: A great deal of drink-
ing is done in the Officer's Club. There is little else to do in
this remote spot. Beyond being gratified that they can induce one
another to have a drink "on them" (misleading in that some govern-
ment has paid the cartage on the dring thus reducing to a piddling
sum what it should cost any buyer) no little enjoyment is gained
from having some of us (the various kinds of mascots) drink along
with them. We become intoxicated far more easily than our military
hosts and the effects of that intoxication are more far-reaching. Dogs
are destined to later suffer ailments of the liver, kidneys and
heart. Monkeys suffer the less chronic symptom of losing their grip
and falling from high trees.
THE PILOTS in this group are on extraordinary special leave from
their respective military units in the United States. They retain
their American citizenship, as well as their rank, while fighting un-
der a foreign flag, receive $600 a month ir pay, and receive a bonus
of $500 for every Japanese aircraft destroyed (though it is not clear
if said Japanese aircraft must be destroyed on the wing or merely
on the ground). They are known as the American Volunteer Group,
the A.V.G. The non-flying personnel of the A.V.G. are paid quite a
bit less by month and it is equally unclear if they would receive a
$500 bonus if they should happen on an intact Japanese aircraft and
manage somehow to destroy it.
In addition to the money, the fliers of the unit can expect
that their parents will receive, on the event of their death in combat,
special tidings:
"Dear
"It is with deep regret that I have learned of the death
of your son,
"He was one of a group of brave and farsighted young men
who sensed the danger, not only to China, but to America
and to freedom throughout the world, in the ruthless and pre-
datory course of Japanese militarism. Not waiting to be called,
this group went forward to meet the enemy, prepared to sacri-
fice themselves, if need be, in order that the democracies might
gain precious time, that freedom might live, that countless
other lives might be saved.
"The record already made by the American Volunteer
Group in aerial combat is one of which every American may
be proud. Although this may be a small comfort to you, in view
of your son's sacrifice, perhaps it will help you feel that he
met death as I am sure he would have wanted to meet it -
in valiant action against an enemy not only of China, but also
of his own country.
"You may have heard that the American Volunteer Group
has adopted, as its emblem, a 'Flying Tiger.' The figure chosen
was designed by the Walt Disney Studios, and shows a winged
tiger leaping out of a Victory 'V'. It will be worn as a lapel
insignia by your son's comrades and will also appear in color
on the fuselage of each plane. As a tribute to your son's
memory, I have the honor to send you, under separate cover, a
gold replica of the insignia which he so richly deserved.
"As Foreign Minister of the Republic of China, I want to
express to you on behalf of my country and of Generalissimo
Chaing Kaishek personally, the sense of honor which is ours
that your son saw fit to give his life in China for the cause
of freedom. Like Lafayette in America, these gallant young men
will ever be gratefully enshrined in the memory of the Chinese
people.
Very truly yours,
(signed)

T. V. Soong
Minister of Foreign Affairs
The Republic of China."
THE COMMANDER of this squadron is a dedicated but prematurely
and virtually humorless man. He allows himself a single harm-
less levity, however. If he should leave* his operations tent and meet
a group of navvies struggling with some impossible load (a crated
airplane engine; a barrel of human excrement to be used as fertilizer)
he acts as if -he had just been presented with an envelope bearing

his name. Feigning preoccupation he'll chuck the nearest coolle en
the arm and say: "Thanks, just leave that on my desk, will yoe?"
N THEIR spare time the pilots of the squadron have painted
an animal caricature on the sides of their ships. We dogs do
not understand the significance of this. Another pastime available
to the flyers is the recounting of their combats with the enemy.
The men illustrate these tales by representing the aircraft involved
with their hands. The patterns that emerge from such a display of
hands is quite often a pleasing choreography. It is strange, though,
that these aerial encounters are called "dog fights." In truth,
fights between dogs rarely occur. I, for one, have never had the
occassion.
DURING THE day we hungover mascots spend most of the time
listlessly attending the mess hall, hoping for scraps. Private
Clark-Kent Carver, a Negro, works there, having the official title of
cooks-helped. There is no cook or cooking, however, as the American
pilots take all of their sit-down meals at a nearby hotel. Private
Carver's activities, therefore, are restricted to preparing .box lunches
(two sandwiches and an apple, usually) for the pilots on alert
duty or for an ccassional transient transport crew. To this end he
has a helper, a withered Chinese that understands no English.
It is unfortunate that Carver's closest associates cannot communi-
cate with him for he is an open and gregarious man. Undismayed
that he has no one to talk to, Carver simply talks. He talks of his
views and his plans for the future. The plan formulated by Carver
when he began his stint in the A.V.G. has been refined over a long
monsoon of discontent to include a stipulated goal. On July 3, 1942,
the end of the group's contract, Carver expects to stop running the
mess hall and start running for election.
"I'm going into politics," Carver reveals in the quiet of the
empty hall.
"I've always liked people and wanted to do something for them.
It always come back to one thing: politics. Politics is not the salva-
tion for our problems, but at least it faces the problems."
The main problems Carver sees have racial overtones, and he
treats that frankly:
"When I say racial, it's not in a bad connotation," he explains.
"I'm not a racist. But I look at poverty, for example, and I think
you should be ale to alleviate that. Look at foreign aid and the amount
of food we send those countries overseas. We have people in our
country who need food."
In touching these bases the former Heisman Trophy winner who
at forty six is one of the A.V-G.'s biggest sandwich producers empha-
sizes continuously that he is trying to take a detached, realistic view:
"I'm a realist, an idealist, and ,a pragmatist," Carver explains.
"If they contradict, that's the way I want it. I'm an idealist in
trying to find out what our problems are, and I'm a pragmatist
in dealing with them.
"I try not to be race-conscious because I don't think this is a
race problem but a American problem ..:."
We mascots are forced to leave the discourse at this point --
it is twilight, our pilots are returning from the late-afternoon sortie,
and they will be wanting drinks.
THE TEN-SOME airplanes that comprise our squadron are known
as the American Curtis P-40, or nominally the Tomahawk
(formerly the Kittyhawk). There are American fighter types avail-
able for export that are superior to the P-40 (say, the XP-38, or the
XP-47) but due to the urgent need for aircraft the Chinese Army
settled for the contract that promised the least delays.
The airplane that comprises the enemy's force is the Japanese
Mitsubishi A6M2, or in the Allied nomenclature, the Zero. Nothing
is known of this aircraft.
IT HAPPENED on our troop transport while steaming to the port
of Rangoon from our embarcation point of San Francisco. The
nineteen nurses of our hospital unit, being the only women aboard,
ate with the ship's captain,-a loud, roughedged seaman who loved
to tease them, especially their commanding officer, a pert little
redheaded major.
One morning, an announcement came over the public-address
system: "Now hear this! Now hear this!" As all conversation ceased,
the ship's captain blared: "Now hear this. Major J .............. At the
bow rail. Your slip's showing!" A wave of laughter swept the ship,
and the major, her face as red as her hair, slunk to her cabin.
Several days later, with the ship close to the mainland of India-
and -in submarine hunting grounds, the engine stopped. A complete
silence shrouded the vessle as all of us turned to stare at one another.
Suddenly, a shrill voice broke the silence: "Captain A ......... ! Cap-
tain A .......... !" It was Major J ...:......., standing below the bridge.
As the Captain stood gaping, she shouted triumphantly: "Captain
A ........At the bridge. Your ship's slowing!"
CLARK-KENT Carver began to formulate his ideas while still
in college in southern California where he studied sociology and
started to read everything he could get his hand on concerning the
origins of Man. That practice has, naturally, continued through
the months he has been with the A.V.G.
"I'm not trying to get more philosophical," explains Carver, "I
want to get more profound. I want to know the background of how
Man thinks. If you can find out how he first started, you may be
able to find out why he thinks the way he do."
What he has found out is that 'Man's life is defined by his
environment' and since Carver's environment is the mess hall that's
the stepping stone he realizes he has to use to reach the goal at
the end of his plan.

THE COMMANDING officer feels that our purpose in this Theater is
best served if we impress the enemy with our strength in terms
of the number of airplanes we can put in the air. Accordingly, he
has issued orders that all ten of our fighters will fly the morning
patrol. For this sortie, the noses of the aircraft will be painted red.
All fighters will again fly the mid-day patrol and on this occassion
the nose of each aircraft will have been painted white. The final,
afternoon, mission will yet again be flown at full squadron strength
but with all aircraft noses painted blue.
As a' result of this procedure the commander is confident that
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the enemy will over-estimate our strength by a factor of three. The
pilots think that in this estimate the commander is accurate. But they
also think he is demented.
THERE IS NO little excitement among the resident mascots. Un-
expectedly, a new member has been thrust into our midst. A
dachshund, Ernst, was brought along as a long-standing associate
of an old-time but youngish hire-out fighter pilot, Raoul St. Excga
St. Excga is lately of the mercenary air-arm of the Southern forces
in the Spanish Civil War. Trained at Los Alcazares airfield by Rus-
san technicians, St..Excga was the only pilot in any rebel unit to
attain the status of "ace" (five air victories) but having won his
part.of the battle while the rest of the Republicans lost the war, his
achievement is lost on the outside world. St. Excga has a private con-
tract with the Chinese.
CLARK-KENT CARVER spent a long monsoon season of discon-
tent, for after a record season of 1,000 sandwiches made In
the flying-weather-period in 1941 he has only been able to make
564 sandwiches so far this year - and immediately became a target
for some highly vocal detractors with regard to his productivity
In the next months.
"If anyone wants a good year, I do," Carver says. "I'm ticked
off. I'm upset. I'm here now for just one thing: to make good
sandwiches, to perform for this unit so that we can win. I function
on challenge - that's why I go things in life.
"The one thing that can relly motivate me is when people
doubt me, and they did. They were unaware of my injuries and
when I came back they weren't aware I wasn't totally healed, and
when I was healed they weren't aware I wasn't in great shape. But
they doubted."
They doubted despite the fact that Carver's injuries were fairly
well publicized, from the torn bicep in his left arm, to the torn
cartilage in his rib cage; from the pulled hamstring muscle in his
leg, to the broken bone in his right hand.
But doubters did give Carver his challenge. And the challenge
has provided motivation. That's why Carver thinks it's so important
for him to be successful running the mess hall before he begins to
run for election.
Or, as he puts it: "Everything I do, everything I feel, every-
thing I experience is related to politics."
RAOUL ST. EXCGA'S mascot, Ernst, brings us some disquieting
news. He tells us that in the Spanish Civil War. the airforces
of the Nationalists and the Republicans both adopted the characters
created by Walt Disney as emblems for their units.
I am prepared to accept with sadness Ernst's statement at face
value; Haworth (our idealist) on the other hand, seems incensed
and skeptical. "Let me understand you better, Ernst," he says. "Do
you tell us that Walt Disney characters served to increase the morale
of both sides of that conflict?"
"That is presumably the case," replies Ernst. He presents a news-
photo of three unquestionable Italians posed before a Fiat BR. 20M
bomber. Painted on the plane's fuselage is a large Pegleg Pete car-
toon (a gun in the left hand, a bomb in the right) with a stylized
caption "LA TORRIDA."
"And if I remember correctly," says Haworth, ignoring the
clipping, "Walt Disney created characters such as Donald Duck,
Mickey Mouse, Pluto, a vulnerable dog, and Pegleg Pete, a bully of
a dog?"
"Yes," replies Ernst, now wary.
"Now let me understand you," says Haworth, "do you mean
to tell us that these animals served two masters, the Nationalists and
the Republicans, simultaneously? (There is no chance for Ernst
to answer.) Now, even I, a mercenary dog know that dual servitude
is disgusting in concept and practice and anyone that suggests that
this is the norm among animals . .."
Here Haworth becomes so carried away with his indignation that
he attacks Ernst and Ernst, in shying from the charge, saves his neck
but incurs an apparently ugly bite on his shoulder. Felcourt Swell
and I react quickly. We subdue Haworth by main force and im-
mobilize him. He regains his composure quite quickly. Emptied by
the attack of emotion that prompted his aggression, he is immed-
iately embarrassed. Felcourt Swell and I feel and smell the strength
leave him. Ernst stands at a distance, wary still. As we let him up
Haworth is terribly embarrassed. We all just stand there for a
moment, then shake ourselves thoroughly.
IN TRUTH, we are all terribly embarrassed, except Ernst. He has
begun to lick his gaudy but (as it turns out) superficial wound.
Still, we have to redress the situation and in the haste that ac-
companies embarrassment we are hurried to adopt the suggestion of
Felcourt Swell that we go and have a "drink." This would have
been quite a staggering proposal so far as heretofore no dog has ever
bought another dog a "drink," but in our mutual distress we rush to
this expediency.
Well, there is only one place to go when having a drink here:
the Officers Club, deserted now in late morning. And the choice of
drink is, of course, restricted to the finest of imported wiskey on the
one hand, and the coarse local malt beverage on -the other. Most
of us choose the latter. Ernst has tagged along. He is in fine
spirits despite his wound and the alcohol eases his tongue, as well
as ours. Ernst is, if you will forgive me, a hard-bitten dog and
neither his Scotch nor his scratch bother him much.
Felcourt Swell is in an expansive mood. He says to Haworth,
offering him a salty treat: "Help yourself, Haworth, even if you don't
deserve to be kept alive. You are a dog, in other words, a useless
parasite."
"I must overlook your frankness," replies Haworth, "since you
must take half the compliment for yourself."

But Haworth is affected by the statement and in a cynical frame
of mind for he adds:
"Anyway, I am not ready to contradict you. I'm afraid we are
a useless lot. When I think of our forefathers who were wolves or
perhaps hyenas I always say' to myself: 'They were at least useful
members of society. They preserved the natural order of the forest.
and thus contributed order to the universe. I still see them before
me, the good old dogs, continually carrying out their charge no
matter how cold the wind blew.

"But I - but we - what service are we
We are mountebanks, sleight-of-hand perfo:
tures that amuse the public on the corners a
zens scarcely think it worthwhile to .take an
Very few people understand them. And I'm no
worth their sympathy, for the world could gi
us.,
Then Ernst remarked: "I don't believe ou
a word of what he is saying. My opinion is
the one he is expressing. I believe that dogs
men in existence."
Haworth begins to laugh. "That is beca
work blinds you."
"Not in the least," says Ernst. "For my c
most cogent of reasons, and I could give them
"I should be heartily glad to hear the
Haworth.
"Very well, but first have a little more
our Oriental hosts have recommended. It w:
condition to understand me."
And when he had poured us a glass aj
preliminary remark: Have you even thoug
modern society the dogs, I mean of course ti
the only persons who enjoy their work?"
"It is true," replies Felcourt Swell, "that
joy, our whole life; but it does not follow from
"Just wait! What our contemporaries I
seems to me, is love of their work They do
Of course they botch' them, and they know
same wretched condition, on every step of
top to bottom.
"The politicians see only the material ad'
derive from their public work, and seem t
satisfaction which the great statesmen of f
they guided their country's destiny well. M
maintaining the honor of their wares, try c
money out of them as possible, and so adulte:
workmen, inspired by a more or less justified
ers, patch their work heartlessly together.
"Almost everybody today seems to look o
necessity, as an accursed burden, whereas w
as our reason for existence and our happiness.
"Moreover, we must not assume that it a
The most of the articles which remain to u
Old Regime, furniture, tools, farics, etc., i
of conscientiousness on the part of their make
"It is just as pleasant for a man to do
am inclined to believe it is more so, because
way. But mankind is always listening to advi
sometmes bad, and at present the bad is in
"And yet how much happier men woul
goal of their lives, instead of a grudgingly paid
"To accomplish this glorious change n
necessary than that everybody follow the e
better, that all men become dogs; for the wo
in its broader sense, all those who take ple
I wish that in this sense there were more d
dog-carpenters who took pleasure in fitting p
dog-masons who stirred their mortar with 1
were proud to treat their horses well and no
That would be a glorious society, would it not
"You see then, how wonderfully fruitfi
teach other men."
"Well said," remarks Felcourt Swell. "I r
I must admit that you deserve something t
peanuts, please."
"Bah!" replies Ernst, "we must get some r
WE WERE discovered in the mess hall by t
upon us only after we'd eaten the Sp
lettuce and tomato, and the apples, of cours
lunch sandwiches. Clark-Kent Cerver was i
was all too easy to apprehend us, stupified a
and drink. We were chained by our collars
that only our hind paws touched the floor.
to beat us bloody with a heavy slotted spoon
this treatment - fair is fair. Haworth, howe
and his anticipation of the punishment, ga'
emotions and urinated on his legs and tail.
son of a bitch that he is) he experienced ar
most disgusting aspect of the affair for us dc
hand, was amused and his temper allayed
received was moderate in comparison.
I suspect that the pilots will not look ka
when they return from today's missions. At I
release in time for the Fourth of July celebra
for tomorrow.
LIFE magazine,
July 21, 1942
"About the Picture on the
LIFE was correspondent Peter Allison
Alvin were on hand some two weeks ago (stos
stalwart young American aviators known as
Group completed their last combat mission fo
The organization, 'formed and headed by G
was hurredly withdrawn on July 3rd after
marvelous record of 206 enemy aircraft sho
only three pilots and aircraft of its own. The
drawal point up the hardships under which
nevertheless successfully carry out their duti
of this unit were required to turn over to t

war machinery and materiel at their dispos
of personal possessions and pets that could r
tranport. Undaunted by this sacrifice the
Volunteer Group are currently being must
of the Army and Navy and their knewledga
will undoubtedly provide a shining example t
in the struggle against the Axis in, the mor

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