This is a short story posted from a local resident of the town I live in;
Feel free to add a story to this posting.
It was early July 1944 in Normandy before Caen was captured, 4th Field Artillery Regiment was deployed on the reverse slope of a hill, near Carpiquet Airport.
We had been experiencing heavy artillery and mortar fire and during the night aircraft had bombed and strafed our position.
I was "B" Troop gun position officer and early next morning I noticed motion in the thick grass nearby.
I walked over and to my surprise, found a small chicken with most of its feathers blown off; obviously scared to death and traumatized by the shell fire.
One of the Gunners expertly fashioned a small chicken house from an empty five gallon gas can and it was suitably nested with dried grass.
This became home to our mascot - christened "HARD TACK" so named, since included in our K rations were the hardest biscuits know, which became edible when soaked in a tin mug of hot tea.
In time, during calm periods our mascot soon learned to hustle between camouflaged gun pits to enjoy tidbits that the gunners provided, then hustle back to the safety of her tin house in the command post.
Hard Tack advanced with us across France, Belgium, Holland and into Germany - suitably ensconced in the back of a truck and by October when I was posted to 2nd Division Head Quarters, Hard Tack started to lay the odd egg.
By February 1945 we were in Germany and on visiting the Regiment area, I found that Hard Tack was still with "B" Troop and I suspect by VE Day she too earned her freedom and a permanent home.
Stories like this helps us reflect on the human elements during such hard times.
R.W.L. Dunning
Feel free to add a story to this posting.
It was early July 1944 in Normandy before Caen was captured, 4th Field Artillery Regiment was deployed on the reverse slope of a hill, near Carpiquet Airport.
We had been experiencing heavy artillery and mortar fire and during the night aircraft had bombed and strafed our position.
I was "B" Troop gun position officer and early next morning I noticed motion in the thick grass nearby.
I walked over and to my surprise, found a small chicken with most of its feathers blown off; obviously scared to death and traumatized by the shell fire.
One of the Gunners expertly fashioned a small chicken house from an empty five gallon gas can and it was suitably nested with dried grass.
This became home to our mascot - christened "HARD TACK" so named, since included in our K rations were the hardest biscuits know, which became edible when soaked in a tin mug of hot tea.
In time, during calm periods our mascot soon learned to hustle between camouflaged gun pits to enjoy tidbits that the gunners provided, then hustle back to the safety of her tin house in the command post.
Hard Tack advanced with us across France, Belgium, Holland and into Germany - suitably ensconced in the back of a truck and by October when I was posted to 2nd Division Head Quarters, Hard Tack started to lay the odd egg.
By February 1945 we were in Germany and on visiting the Regiment area, I found that Hard Tack was still with "B" Troop and I suspect by VE Day she too earned her freedom and a permanent home.
Stories like this helps us reflect on the human elements during such hard times.
R.W.L. Dunning
