Queenie suddenly stopped in her tracks…motionless…ears erect. The only sound was the excited chirping of the birds in protest of the human intrusion into their world…a world of dense foliage and smothering heat.
The small scouting detail had been dispatched for the sole purpose of exposing any Japanese strongholds on the island. It was a “no brainer” that the troops would be sitting ducks if deployed on an unsecured stretch of beach.
Queenie’s handler, my Uncle Carl, carefully caressed the German Shepherd’s head as he whispered, “What is it Queenie?”
The Sergeant, knowing the seriousness of Queenie’s unrequited stance, signaled for runners to quietly maneuver to the left and right behind the danger zone.
Faces flushed from adrenalin rushes, both runners returned with the same news. “Sub’s, rocket launchers, flamethrowers, some kind of cannon, and even military swords. Sarge, it’s not good.”
Bottom line, because of Queenie’s astute training, the entire Japanese fortress was flushed out…allowing a safe landing on the beach.
Queenie and my uncle somehow got separated when the war ended but my uncle never gave up searching for Queenie. He sent out dozens of letters and made just as many phone calls trying to locate the “unsung heroine.”
Unexpectedly, one day a letter arrived from a little outlying village in the district of Kyushu. Yes, dear readers, that’s a part of Japan.
Long story short, Queenie had somehow ended up with a Japanese farmer and his family who had treated her like a true Queen.
Uncle Carl wasted no time in arranging her safe return to the States.
Mother aptly quoted Proverbs 25: 25: Like cold water to a weary soul, is good news from a distant land.
