Billy Whiskers in France

by Frances Trego Montgomery

“There goes one of our heroes now. See that dog crossing the lawn, wearing a Red Cross bandage on his chest?”

Billy turned and took one long look at the dog. Then without a word of warning he put down his head and bounded toward him, taking ten or twelve feet at a single bound.

The dogs stood spellbound. What was the big goat going to do? Butt their wounded hero? If so, why should he wish to butt a perfectly harmless dog he had never seen before? But had he never seen him before? Perhaps they had met and fought on the battlefield and were enemies. If so, they must all run and protect their hero from the long horns of the strange goat.

But when the dogs arrived within speaking distance they were overjoyed to hear the goat baa out, “Hello, old chum! How in all that is wonderful did you get here? I heard you were dead; that you had been seen with a Red Cross ambulance which had first been gassed and then blown up by a shell. One of your friends said he saw you with his own eyes sitting in the back of the ambulance when the shell struck it, and the next thing he saw was the whole ambulance flying up in the air and then coming down in small pieces.”

“What he saw all happened. I was there and sitting in the back of the ambulance with my gas mask on, for the signal had been given for all to put on their masks, and one of the doctors with the ambulance corps had just stopped and strapped mine in place when a shell hit us, and I found myself going up in the air at the rate of about a hundred miles a minute. When I came down, my mask had been blown off my face. How it ever was done without killing me or blowing my head off I don’t know, but it was. I thought I was all right until I began to see red, and I had a queer sensation in my head as if my brain were going round and round like a cat runs after its tail. Then I could not get my breath and I fell over, giving myself up for dead. But if you will believe it, the next thing I knew I opened my eyes and found myself in a long room with two rows of beds in it, all just like baby cribs. And bending over me was a sweet-faced lady nurse. I found myself all bound up in splints and cotton batting. You see an interne to another Red Cross ambulance who had come to look for the wounded, if any had possibly survived the blow-up, had found me senseless on the ground. So he picked me up and brought me here as this hospital for dogs was on the way to the hospital where he was stationed. This is now my fourth week here, and I want to tell you that only angels in human form live here. They are so good to one! They have nursed me back to life. I was only slightly gassed and so my lungs are all healed and I am also over my shell shock. I shall likely go back to the front in another week.”

“You don’t mean that you are going back to the fighting line, do you?” asked a long white-haired collie that had fallen very much in love with the brave Red Cross dog. “Oh, why do you risk your life again?”

“Why do I risk my life?” in astonishment. “To try to save some brave soldier, whose life is a thousand times more valuable than any dog’s ever will be. Yes, I am going back and back and back as long as I have eyes, teeth or claws to go back with, until this cruel war is over.”

“Bully for you!” exclaimed Billy. “You make me feel like a slacker, getting homesick and running away from the army.”

“Well, it is not too late yet to go back. I propose that you stay here and rest until next week and then go back with me.”