Judy: The Unforgettable Story of the Dog Who Went to War and Became a True Hero by Damien Lewis Page A
Authors: Damien Lewis
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Toppers Club, and the place where only months earlier Judy had dragged the unfortunate Tankey Cooper into the cesspit.
In the face of the bloody conflict, all aboard the Gnat had to strive to remain neutral—including a ship’s dog who had as a young puppy herself fallen victim to the cruelty of the Japanese military. Judy seemed to have been blessed with an unfailing instinct for detecting which of her two-legged fellows were dog lovers and which were inclined to view her either as a potential tasty meal or as the enemy. And it was to be in Hankow that she would next come face to face with her tormentors. But first there were old acquaintances to renew, plus some sad and heartfelt farewells to be dealt with.
It was early April 1938 when the Gnat found herself again based at Hankow. Hankow being her home port away from home, there was the inevitable local fixer and master of all trades there, one who had made it his business to tend to the crew’s every need. In Portsmouth, the Gnat ’s British home port, there had been “Tubby” Greenburgh, a rotund and jolly naval tailor from whom the men could always borrow ten shillings on “blank” days—those immediately prior to payday—interest-free and sealed with nothing more than a handshake.
Here in Hankow, Tubby Greenburgh’s equivalent was Sung. For reasons lost in the mists of time Sung was better known to all who sailed the Yangtze as Joe Binks. A huge bear of a man, Joe Binks would beam with undisguised good humor as the men poured forth from the Gnat intent on some quality shore time, but he reserved an especially warm welcome for the Gnat ’s ship’s dog.
Joe Binks was the Gnat ’s official Hankow comprador—the man charged with supplying the ship with all the food and other stores she might require. He often brought his wife and four young children with him when doing business aboard the British gunboat, and the children in particular delighted in Judy’s company. In spite of being bred for the hunt, English pointers generally display an instinctive love of children, and Judy adored being in the presence of the Sung youngsters.
Dashing about the ship, hiding in her favorite cubbyholes, and challenging the kids to find her—these were some of Judy’s happiest moments amid all the tension and chaos of the war-torn lower Yangtze. Cries of delight from the children indicated that they’d discovered her, but Judy would rapidly turn the tables by dancing excitedly from paw to paw, then going rigid and seeming to point at the children’s bulging pockets—for the Sung youngsters always came bearing tasty gifts for Shudi , the peaceful one.
Judy’s next-best friend among the locals was known to all simply as Sew-sew. The reason for the nickname was self-evident: she was tasked with carrying out any sewing or other repairs required for clothing or furnishings aboard the Gnat . Sew-sew would spend hertime perched on a stool on the open deck, needle and thread flashing in the sunlight as she attached a new white tape to the collar of a formal mess jacket, all the while talking in her soft singsong voice to her chief companion, an enraptured Judy.
But perhaps Judy’s foremost family of friends among the locals was the Amah brood. Amah herself was a woman of fierce repute along the Hankow Bund. Her entire family lived in a small rattan-covered sampan that was tied up on the dockside. Contracted to the British Admiralty, Amah had fought for and won the right for her boat to be used as the British gunboats’ “general use” vessel. She and her children spent their day ferrying men and matériel from ship to shore and back again, or if there was no demand for her ferry services, she’d busy herself touching up the paintwork on a gunboat’s hull.
Judy had grown to adore Amah and more specifically her children. Whenever she got the chance she’d leap from the Gnat into the sampan, and standing proud on the bow she’d oversee operations as Amah ferried a
In the face of the bloody conflict, all aboard the Gnat had to strive to remain neutral—including a ship’s dog who had as a young puppy herself fallen victim to the cruelty of the Japanese military. Judy seemed to have been blessed with an unfailing instinct for detecting which of her two-legged fellows were dog lovers and which were inclined to view her either as a potential tasty meal or as the enemy. And it was to be in Hankow that she would next come face to face with her tormentors. But first there were old acquaintances to renew, plus some sad and heartfelt farewells to be dealt with.
It was early April 1938 when the Gnat found herself again based at Hankow. Hankow being her home port away from home, there was the inevitable local fixer and master of all trades there, one who had made it his business to tend to the crew’s every need. In Portsmouth, the Gnat ’s British home port, there had been “Tubby” Greenburgh, a rotund and jolly naval tailor from whom the men could always borrow ten shillings on “blank” days—those immediately prior to payday—interest-free and sealed with nothing more than a handshake.
Here in Hankow, Tubby Greenburgh’s equivalent was Sung. For reasons lost in the mists of time Sung was better known to all who sailed the Yangtze as Joe Binks. A huge bear of a man, Joe Binks would beam with undisguised good humor as the men poured forth from the Gnat intent on some quality shore time, but he reserved an especially warm welcome for the Gnat ’s ship’s dog.
Joe Binks was the Gnat ’s official Hankow comprador—the man charged with supplying the ship with all the food and other stores she might require. He often brought his wife and four young children with him when doing business aboard the British gunboat, and the children in particular delighted in Judy’s company. In spite of being bred for the hunt, English pointers generally display an instinctive love of children, and Judy adored being in the presence of the Sung youngsters.
Dashing about the ship, hiding in her favorite cubbyholes, and challenging the kids to find her—these were some of Judy’s happiest moments amid all the tension and chaos of the war-torn lower Yangtze. Cries of delight from the children indicated that they’d discovered her, but Judy would rapidly turn the tables by dancing excitedly from paw to paw, then going rigid and seeming to point at the children’s bulging pockets—for the Sung youngsters always came bearing tasty gifts for Shudi , the peaceful one.
Judy’s next-best friend among the locals was known to all simply as Sew-sew. The reason for the nickname was self-evident: she was tasked with carrying out any sewing or other repairs required for clothing or furnishings aboard the Gnat . Sew-sew would spend hertime perched on a stool on the open deck, needle and thread flashing in the sunlight as she attached a new white tape to the collar of a formal mess jacket, all the while talking in her soft singsong voice to her chief companion, an enraptured Judy.
But perhaps Judy’s foremost family of friends among the locals was the Amah brood. Amah herself was a woman of fierce repute along the Hankow Bund. Her entire family lived in a small rattan-covered sampan that was tied up on the dockside. Contracted to the British Admiralty, Amah had fought for and won the right for her boat to be used as the British gunboats’ “general use” vessel. She and her children spent their day ferrying men and matériel from ship to shore and back again, or if there was no demand for her ferry services, she’d busy herself touching up the paintwork on a gunboat’s hull.
Judy had grown to adore Amah and more specifically her children. Whenever she got the chance she’d leap from the Gnat into the sampan, and standing proud on the bow she’d oversee operations as Amah ferried a
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