Judy: The Unforgettable Story of the Dog Who Went to War and Became a True Hero by Damien Lewis Read Free Book Online Page B

to be lifted back aboard the ship. They were rushed below for a good hot bath. The scrubbing that Judy received was at the hands of Chief Petty Officer Jefferey himself, who was fast becoming one of her foremost protectors. The bath was laced with disinfectant on the orders of the ship’s surgeon, for the Yangtze wasn’t just laden with silt and mud—it was also thick with sewage from the many towns and cities that lined her banks.
    Jefferey rubbed Judy dry with his own towel before deciding to give her a walk around the vessel, pointing out all the obvious dangers. It was like learning to ride a horse, being aboard ship: if you fell off—or overboard—you just had to get right back on again. At first Judy was noticeably scared to be out on deck. She shivered with fright and gave the ship’s rails the widest berth possible. As the Gnat steamed ahead, she was reluctant even to take a peek at the frothing water surging past to either side of the hull.
    At that Jefferey allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. At least she seemed to have learned her lesson.
    Captain Waldegrave recorded their near loss in the ship’s log at 1800 hours that day: “a man accidentally overboard and retrieved by the lifeboat crew.” The fact that Judy’s “accident” was officiallyrecorded as happening to a human crew member reflected just how those aboard the Gnat had begun to view their ship’s dog. But while the crewmen were growing to cherish their newest shipmate, many had begun to question if she really would satisfy the third quality they had demanded of her—that of usefulness .
    The night of the accident a shaken Judy did sleep in the officers’ quarters, lying close by Jefferey’s bunk for extra comfort. Usually in life a man will choose his dog. Just occasionally a dog gets to choose her man. After her near-death experience in the Yangtze, Judy was in need of real comfort. But she remained the kind of dog who’d make her own choice of master—or better still life companion—very much in her own good time. There were plenty of ready candidates aboard the Gnat : the ship’s captain, CPO Jefferey, and Tankey Cooper to name but a few. Yet as far as Judy of Sussex was concerned, Mr. Right hadn’t stepped onto her deck just yet.
    Thankfully, tonight was a night of comparative quiet aboard the Gnat , devoid of the roar of tortured water rushing past the hull, or ship’s screws thrashing, or engines thumping away belowdecks. As with all Yangtze gunboats, the Gnat steamed only during the hours of daylight, when her crew could see properly to defend themselves against the dangers that lurked along the river’s length. Come nightfall, she’d either anchor in the shallows or pull into one of the many wharfs and jetties that dotted the river’s course.
    By any standards the Yangtze was a busy thoroughfare, and most of the local sampans and junks that plied her waters—traditional wood-hulled sailing ships—did so all hours of day and night. Few if any carried any warning lamps—customarily a red light to port and a green to starboard—as vessels are supposed to during hours of darkness. The dangers of having a collision with an unseen craft were legion.
    But there were other, more malevolent forces that menaced the waters during the night hours—which was why the Yangtze gunboat captains always preferred to find a riverside dock come sundown. Even there danger still lurked. Armed bandits roamed thefertile lands of the Yangtze River delta, a vast maze of waterways, marshlands, and rice paddies that it would take the Gnat a week or more to navigate. Farther inland the plains, valleys, and lake lands would eventually give way to the dramatic mountains and rugged forests of the interior, all of which were plagued by warlords and the ruthless gangs under their control.
    Even when moored up at night, the crew of the Gnat had to be ready to rouse themselves in an instant. The piercing blow of the ship’s whistle and the