The Mice Meet a Hero, Page 2

runs he’d learnt to run on three legs, with the wheeled metal leg skating along the ground. He grinned. ‘I’m almost a dog again. Let’s go to the park.’

  Squeak asked, ‘Are you OK to give us a lift? We’ve only got little legs?’

  War Dog nodded.

  Louise piped up. ‘I’ll take my electric bike, if that’s OK.’

  Squeak and Rolo climbed on to War Dog’s back, Louise jumped on her electric motorcycle and they set off. As they walked along people stopped and stared.

  Squeak said, ‘We’d better go down the back alleys. We’re drawing too much attention.’

  In the park, a group of children were playing ball with a small dog which was madly running around and barking. War Dog’s ears pricked up. ‘I think I’ll go and join in.’

  Squeak said, ‘Good idea.’ Then he and Rolo jumped off War Dog.

  The three mice sat on a small step as War Dog ran and skated across to the game. Soon the children and dogs were laughing, playing ball and crazily chasing each other.

  As the three mice watched Froggy appeared. ‘What’s happening?’

  Squeak pointed at War Dog. ‘Our friend is playing.’

  ‘What happened to him?’

  ‘He was wounded.’

  Froggy looked at the dogs playing. ‘I’ve never understood why dogs get so excited about chasing a ball.’

  Squeak thought for a few moments and then asked, ‘Do you ever rummage through the bins at the back of the supermarket?’

  Froggy looked puzzled. ‘Why?’

  ‘Just thought we might find something useful there.’ Squeak turned to the other two mice. ‘Stay here and keep an eye on War Dog. Me and Froggy will go and do some exploring.’

  Froggy and Squeak came back, a packet of steaks clamped in Froggy’s teeth and Squeak holding a lump of cheese. War Dog was still madly chasing around after a ball.

  Squeak asked Louise and Rolo, ‘Has he stopped at all?’

  Rolo answered, ‘He’s been running around like a demon since you left.’

  Squeak sighed, ‘Must be trying to forget.’ Just as Squeak finished speaking, War Dog tumbled over his metal leg. The children ran over to him and helped him up then he slowly made his way back to his new friends.

  ‘That was fun. Felt like a young pup again.’

  Froggy waved the steak. ‘Fancy a bite to eat?’

  War Dog licked his lips. ‘I haven’t had a decent meal since I got back. Don’t suppose one steak will hurt.’

  Squeak pointed over to some trees. ‘We’d better eat our meal away from prying eyes. Humans have a funny habit of looking at you when you’re eating and making funny noises. There’s a clearing just behind those trees.’

  As they walked to the trees, War Dog looked up at the beautiful red sky. ‘Reminds me of when I was in training. There was one day where there was a stunning red sky - me and all the boys were playing catch. We were all so young and full of hope. I wonder how many of them came back.’

  As they reached the trees there was a cooing noise and a flapping of wings. ‘How are my favourite mice?’ Then Roger fluttered down to the ground. He looked at War Dog. ‘You look like you’ve been in the wars.’

  ‘Only the one.’

  Rolo smiled. ‘Let me introduce you. This is War Dog. This is Roger. He’s in the RAF.’

  Roger shuffled his wings and looked embarrassed.

  War Dog said, ‘You fellows dropped us off in your helicopters and brought me and Master back home.’

  Roger flustered, ‘Never seen any active service myself. In the reserves you know.’

  ‘It’s the best place to be.’

  There was an awkward silence which Squeak broke. ‘Come on let’s eat.’

  The friends tucked into the steak and cheese. War Dog said, ‘This is the best steak I’ve had in ages.’ Then he coughed violently. ‘Excuse me I just need to walk around a little to get my lunch to settle.’ Then he walked off through the trees.

  Squeak hopped after him and then jumped on to his metal leg. War Dog walked for a few hundred yards, getting more and more unsteady on his feet then stopped and wretched. He convulsed for a few seconds then stood still.

  Squeak asked, ‘Are you OK?’

  War Dog looked him in the eye. ‘The blast affected me badly. My insides are messed up.’ He wiped some blood off his mouth and turned to walk away. He looked up at the sky again. ‘When we were hit the sky looked blood red. For some reason I thought I was back at base playing ball. But it was just the blood in my eyes and shock.’

  Squeak stood silent.

  War Dog sat down. ‘My time is coming to an end. I need to get something off my chest. It’s about the blast that caught us.’ He sniffed. ‘It was my fault. I was unwell. I had a cold. When Master went I went along with them. If I’d stayed behind they’d have all stayed. I smelt the first two bombs and master was dealing with them, but I didn’t smell the last one until he was on top of it. I panicked, rather than just sit down by the bomb as we were trained I tried to warn him by barking. He didn’t understand until it was too late. After the blast I tried to drag him back to base, but I knew he was dead. Then a bullet hit my leg and smashed it to pieces.’ He looked down at his metal leg. ‘And after that, I couldn’t do anything.’

  Squeak patted his paw. ‘It’s not your fault. You didn’t start the war.’

  War Dog sniffed. ‘But I could have stayed in base and they wouldn’t have gone on patrol. Or they could have taken another dog. But I was too proud. I wanted it to be me and Master. I wanted to be at the front with Master leading the men.’ He shook his head. ‘It should’ve been me. It should’ve been me.’ As he walked away he mumbled, ‘I must go back to Master.’

  ‘You can’t change the past. All you can do is carry on. You can still be useful.’

  ‘No. There is no place for us broken down relics.’

  ‘Is there anything we can do?’

  ‘No. I’ve had a beautiful day. I felt almost normal again which was more than I could have hoped for. I’ve endured the pain for long enough.’

  Then Squeak stood silently as War Dog made his way through the trees. Squeak couldn’t help asking himself whether he was talking about the pain from his wounds or from his guilt.

  Fifteen minutes later Squeak entered the clearing.

  Rolo looked at Squeak. ‘Where’s War Dog?’

  ‘He’s gone.’ As Squeak spoke the words the red sky changed to a thunderous blackness. ‘We’d better get back to the theatre.’

  As the friends made their way through the back door of the theatre the clouds opened up and rain began to fall.

  Squeak looked out of the theatre window as the rain beat against the pane.

  Froggy jumped up and sat next to him. ‘What do you think will happen to him?’

  Squeak shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Do you think you’ll see him again?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Do you want to try and find him?’

  Squeak thought for a few moments. ‘No. He wants to be alone.’

  Froggy nudged Squeak. ‘Do you really think that? Don’t you think we should help?’

  Squeak looked at the rain. ‘He said he wanted to go back to his Master.’ A gust of wind smashed against the window. ‘But we should help him. Is Roger here?’

  A few minutes later Squeak was explaining to Roger, ‘War Dog needs our help.’

  Roger saluted. ‘I know my duty.’ He looked out of the window and gulped. ‘It’s an awful storm out there.’

  Squeak touched his wing. ‘You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.’

  Roger nodded.

  ‘He’ll probably be at the cemetery. Do you know where it is?’

  ‘Yes. Always use it to get my bearings.’

  On his return Roger stood shivering. He violently flapped his wings and water sprayed everywhere. He looked at Squeak. ‘He’s by a grave. He’s soaked through. He’ll catch his death.’

  Squeak called the fri
ends together. ‘We must help War Dog.’

  Rolo asked, ‘What can we do?’

  Squeak scratched his head. ‘If we get an old plastic sheet or mackintosh we can cover him. At least it will keep him dry.’

  The friends scattered and when they re-assembled they had an odd assortment of coats and sheets of plastic. Squeak inspected what they’d brought back and pointed to an old plastic cagoule. ‘Froggy do you think you could carry that?’

  Froggy nodded.

  Squeak thought for a few moments. ‘What we will do is partially unwrap the coat, then we’ll,’ he motioned to the two other mice, ‘get on your back and hold the coat in place to keep us all dry.’

  Everyone nodded in agreement.

  Roger said, ‘I’ll lead the way.’

  And with that they set off.

  They soon found War Dog and gently wrapped him in the coat, then huddled together for warmth. War Dog’s big sad eye was filled with honest devoted service. The darkness of the night, the howling wind and the lashing rain meant that none of the friends slept a wink. The three mice and Froggy huddled together and shivered. War Dog was motionless.

  The darkness slowly receded and the morning light begun to reclaim the scene. The wind and rain died away and the friends looked out across a new day. Squeak examined the dedication on the gravestone.

  IN MEMORY OF GENERATIONS LOST

  ON THE WORLDS BATTLEFIELDS

  2012

  MAY THEIR LOSS NOT BE IN VAIN

  War Dog’s eyes were closed and his face was serene. Squeak touched War Dog’s paw. It was cold.

  Rolo looked over at Squeak. ‘Should we go and find him some milk?’

  ‘It’s too late for that.’

  After a few moments of silence the mice silently climbed onto Froggy’s back and they headed back to the theatre.

  Suddenly a tall thin man dressed in a long black cassock walked swiftly towards them. He looked at the three mice on top of Froggy and his mouth fell open. Then he saw War Dog and went over. The man gently stroked the old dog’s head and said, ‘Couldn’t bear to be apart from your master? I’ll make sure you stay together.’ He picked up War Dog and slowly carried him back towards the cathedral.

  Four days later the three mice and Froggy stood to attention as War Dog’s body was lowered into a small grave next to his master. As a man raised a bugle to his lips and started to play, Roger led a flock of pigeons in a fly past.

  As the piper finished the last note and saluted, dogs across the city began to howl.

  Squeak spoke, ‘Death comes to us all in the end, either through old age, misfortune or the battlefield. Even though he didn’t die in battle, War Dog died a devoted hero.’

  Then they all bowed their heads, tears in their eyes for the fallen hero.

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