Col. Robert Montgomery with Bucket and Queenie.

When the 20th. arrived in England in late August, 1943, the outfit was assigned to King's Cliffe, except for the 55th. FS which went over to Wittering RAF Station immediately after getting off the train in that little King's Cliffe railway station. The rest of the 20th. had Nissen huts, while we lucky ones at Wittering had permanent brick barracks, steam heat, indoor showers and all. As I recall it, the airfield in King's Cliffe was not sufficently large to handle three squadrons of twin-engined fighters.

The 30 or so ground and air officers were billeted in a small, one floor T-shaped barracks on the road leading from the edge of the main gate at Wittering. Several weeks after we moved in; Jack Yelton walked in one day with a cocker spaniel pup he had purchased somewhere. She was a beautiful little thing, sort of a golden tan.

Yelton put newspaper on the floor to housebreak her and it was but a few days bfore that barracks began to smell like a dog kennel. How Art Rowley, Yelton's roommate, stood that odor 24 hours a day is something the rest of us could never understand. And why Doc Weidemeyer never declared the place a health-hazard was a mystery. Possibly it was because most of us became attached to that pup, and besides, Yelton was a darn nice fellow we all liked.

As one might imagine, Yelton named the pup "Lightning" and on a number of occasions, took her up with him while slow-timing an engine or pulling some sort of test flight.Anyway, that dog learned to love flying.

When I got back to the 20th. from POW camp in mid-May '45, someone told me that when Yelton was shot down and did not return, Lightning would have nothing to do with anyone else. She began to run with a pack of dogs in the Wittering area and even after the 55th. moved over to King's Cliffe, word would filter in from Wittering that someone had seen Lightning running around the area. I have always wondered what might have been if Yelton had gotten back to Wittering after V-E Day rather than being repatriated by the Germans because of his disabled physical condition.

Sad Sack takes it easy.

There was a dog I believe was named "Sad Sack", about the ugliest thing I ever saw on four legs. He belonged to the enlisted men (or maybe just one of them); he was their own mascot. And how he hated officers. Whenever I had reason to go to the Orderly Room, I had to fight my way in and then fight my way out, because he was usually lurking somewhere nearby. And if an officer was riding a bicycle, he had to be ready to defend himself from Sad Sack who would run alongside the bike, nipping at the rider's heels. I have often wondered through the years how the men were able to train this mutt to chase officers. Come on, fellows, after 40-plus years, don't you think we are entitled to know? Was it the "pink" britches we wore?

Apparently there was a third dog in the 55th. but I never saw him. In my photo album (which was sent home after I became MIA) is a photo I believe was sent to my father by Cliff Long. Under it is penned the notation "Sgt. Siler - Nipper- Cpl. Knott and Lt. Long". Now, this Nipper seems to have the same general dimentions as "Sad Sack". Has my memory failed me after all these years? Was Sad Sack actually Nipper, or were they two different dogs?

Somewhere there must be some old 20th.Group fellow who could clear up this mystery. How about a leter to our editor of what you might recall?

Not to be outdone, the 79th. Medical also had a dog, Piddler.

(Reprinted from King's Cliffe Remembered" July-Aug, 1985 issue)

--Bill Sharpe, King's Cliffe Remembered, Jan-Feb., 1986 issue.

(On reverse: "This is our mascot, Sack Time. He is quite a dog")

� � � "...At some point in time, one of the men returned from a pass with a nondescript dog that immediately became adopted by all of the enlisted men of the squadron. He was so ugly, lacking any appearance of quality normally associated with a dog that you couldn't help but like him. Maybe it was feeling sorry for him that appealed to us, but in any event he was immdiately accepted by one and all and was soon named Sack Time due to his ability to snooze along with the men while awaiting the return of the planes from a mission.

� � � He always appeared at the mess hall at chow time and never lacked for plenty to eat. Even the cooks slipped a bit of chow out the back door for him.

� � � Sack Time soon developed a dislike for Officers (no doubt encouraged by the troops) and would attempt to bite their ankles as they rode by on their bicycles. He was especially vocal with growls and snapping when they were in "pinks" (dress trousers) and I imagine any of number of torn trousers had to be replaced.

� � � Rumor has it that word came down from on high that he must go or be destroyed and eventually someone was assigned the duty of shooting him (probably one of the MPs). When the task was carried out their aim was not too good. Sack Time was only wounded in the attempt and was soon nursed back to health by his many admirers.

� � � I relate this latter part as a rumor only as I do not recall the incident. He lived with the men on the flight line which was probably nearly a mile from the Orderly Room where I worked so I did not have much direct contact with him or his master.

-- Ken Ashbaugh, August, 1999

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(Editor's note: Sack Time and Sad Sack appear to have been the same dog.)

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� � � "...Nipper, according to the best sought-out rumor, had it that he was the result of a very unique meeting between 'Sad Sack' and our dear friend, 'Lightning'. Much of this may be laid at the door of conjecture, and hope. Be that as it may, Nipper was smart as he** and one of the sweetest dogs you can imagine. Every morning, when the lads would come roaring into the 55th. ready room, right from Group briefing, one of them, a great character, laboring under the impossible name of Richard W. Fruechtenicht, or 'Fritz', as you would expect, would roar out in the clearest, and almost operatic voice, 'NIPPERRRRR!'. The poor beastie would almost come unglued. Down the hall towards the jocks he would run - or, at least, try to. His derriere flipping back and forth in an almost spine-seperating waggle - peeing all the way. He even got the name 'Paderewski', until he got control of these things.

� � � "Sgt. Siler trained Nipper to do many things. One, which really was great, and has a remarkable follow up, was to 'bail out' on command. Siler would put him in the cockpit of a P-51 and call, 'Bail out". Out of the cockpit, like he was ejected, would come this black bundle of energy, down the wing and leap into Siler's arms. As you have undoubtedly guessed, this was a re-run and a re-run and a re-run. The pilots loved every episode. And now, to the follow up.

� � � "One morning, as the mission was taking off, several of us were standing at one of the revetments, watching. Siler was there and had placed Nipper in the cockpit, juast to keep him under control. On the take off, one of the planes, flown by a 55th. type, named Jack Leon, began to misfire and cut out, just as he had lifted and started the folding up of the landing gear. The whole field believe me, became very quiet. I am absolutely certain of that. All you could hear, other than the sound of the engines of the characters waiting at the east end of the runway, was the on-and-off roar of Leon's engine. It sounded like one of those WW1 movies where the pilots had but full power or cutback power. Right after he got over the west end of the field where it dropped off in a sheer drop, towards King's Cliffe, he dropped out of sight. Still you could hear the darn thing. 'Vroom, vroom, vrooooom,' as he headed down the railroad tracks. Then it -the engine- began to get louder and, to everybody's amazement - and horro- here comes Leon, headed straight back toward us from the South. The heretofore interested observers on top of the large quonset huts came sliding down like the devil was on the other side. Leon made the runway, banked, and headed down wind. Then the characters at the East end of the runway began a fast 'buck and wing' with their P-51s. Leon got the thing stopped before he reached them and everybody just stood there and stared.

� � � "During all of this, Riemensnider, who had been standing near the wing of the P-51, had almost mechanically, shouted 'Bail out'. It was too late and Leon was too low, but it just came out. And so did Nipper. Out of the cockpit, he flew, down the wing, and launched out right at Riemensnider, whose back was turned. I don't know who was the more startled, Nipper or Riemensnider, as Nipper hit him a lick on the shoulder and neck. Nipper fell to the ground, unhurt, got up, looked at Bob and stalked off. Would have nothing to do with Bob at that time...."

-- Capt. Clifford W. Long, 55th. FS Intelligence Officer, August 7, 1985.
(Reprinted from King's Cliffe Remembered", Oct.-Nov., 1985 issue)

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� � � "... I enjoyed your article about Piddler. I would also like to lay claim to the dog. He used to sleep on my footlocker. I always wondered what happened to him...."

-- Sgt. Jack Clauson, 79th. FS Communications
(Reprinted from King's Cliffe Remembered", Oct.-Nov., 1985 issue)

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Primrose and Screwgun on the wing of a 20th.FG Mustang

(Photographs courtesy of Ken Ashbaugh and The Hudgens Collection via Hazel La Munyon and Jack Ilfrey)