The Father Comes Home
The war is over. I knew it, DD knew it, Klunk knew it, and Muttley knew it. Finally the League of Nations has signed the Treaty of Paris and it is now time to go home; what a beautiful place home is. It's a place where the heart is. It's a place where anyone is welcomed, and it's the place where she will be waiting. My heart, my everything, that's what she is to me. I hated leaving her, but I had to. I was drafted and chosen to be a member of the Vulture Squadron in 1918 when the US entered the war in 1917 and started using Yankee Doodle Pigeon, the one I blame for all my fear and dread.
Leaving my wife was the hardest thing I ever did. I was afraid of dying and leaving my wife in the world, and I didn't want to leave our child either. In 1918 when I was forced to leave, she had not been born yet, which caused my fear to increase. I was so afraid of leaving my wife and soon-to-be-born daughter. What if I die and my little girl grows up without me, I often wondered. This was the trigger that caused my constant fear as I served my time in the Vulture Squadron. I never told Klunk, Dick, or Muttley of my family life. I never thought they'd understand. They wouldn't have understood my dilemma. They didn't have expectant wives and unborn kids who would have had to have been born without their father.
The only good thing about all of this at first was that I was able to exchange letters with my wife, which gave her an excellent way to keep me updated on our daughter.
When the General came by the hangar to give us the news, I was jumping for joy; that was something I hadn't done since 1914 when this atrocious war began. If only Franz Ferdinand hadn't been shot, because my country wouldn't have had to declare war. I remember when it happened, where I was, what I was doing. I was in my hometown in Germany, talking to and cuddling with my wife to the best of my ability, and then, the newspaper came and then and there did my real fear begin. Like I said before, I was assigned by the General to the Vulture Squadron, which had just been settled out in the German countryside. When General told me of the pigeon who would be defining my life for the next five years of my life, I met Klunk, whom I've become friends with as our partnership progressed. I remember are meeting so well…
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"Henry Zilly, this is Gregory Klunk. You will be working alongside him on the Vulture Squadron in your assignment of catching the pigeon," explained the General as he showed me the short man standing in front of me.
"Yes, sir," I said with fear in my voice, which would become a regular occurrence.
"Why are you shaking in your voice, pilot?" asked the General curiously.
"I'm afraid, sir," I replied.
"Fear? Zilly, your country needs you! You can't be afraid! You need to be courageous and cooperative. Do I make myself clear?!" replied the General rather loudly as his face started moving towards mine, which sent chills up my spine. I shook as I nodded and saluted.
"Yes sir, General," I said discouraged. The General stepped aside and let Klunk talk to me.
"Hello, you can zzzz whhooooo brrrr chk-chk-chk," he replied to me.
"Oh okay, then you can just call me Zilly," I replied with a smile. The General gasped.
"You can understand Klunk?" he asked surprisingly. I turned to him and nodded.
"Yes sir, I took gibberish in school, and did well in that class," I replied not as scared as before.
"I must have missed that when I looked over your draft," replied the General to himself, probably unaware the I could hear him talk to himself. The General stepped forward and spoke again.
"Well, gentlemen, now that you're acquainted, now you need to meet your chief. He's had plenty of travel experience, flight experience through these races he's done, and practically let his dog beg us to let him go with him. That type of loyalty that dog has with his master surprised me, but I was reluctant. Your chief didn't mind if his dog came, but then I thought that since the dog was part hunting dog, I thought that having a canine on the squadron might be useful. So, men, please welcome the both of them. You chief and his canine," explained the General as he walked towards the door. He slightly opened it and peeked his head out.
"Okay, Mr. Dastardly, you can come in now," he said.
When I heard DD's name being called, my shaking body froze. Dastardly; as in the no good cheating Dick Dastardly from those Wacky Races I'd read about in the newspapers? Not him, it can't be him! He and his dog, Muttley, have been considered no good cheaters ever since they first joined the races two years before. All these thoughts ran through my head as Dick Dastardly and Muttley entered the room. My body began shaking again as I lowered my head into my oversized yellow jacket. Suddenly, Dick Dastardly ordered me to take my head out of my jacket, which I did so immediately. There was so much strength and confidence in his voice that something inside me immediately forced to follow his orders. As his dog, Muttley stared at the medals that were hung on the General's walls, DD told us of the basic procedure of what was going to happen, how it was going to happen, and other details that involved it. When he was just about done talking, Muttley pulled on DD's jacket and pointed at the medals.
"Those are medals, Muttley. You get them from doing brave deeds," explained the General before Dick could speak. And it was there and then that Muttley fell in love with medals, becoming more determined than ever to receive as much as possible.
Another several minutes of more talking, the General sent us away and we were all on our way to the countryside, where we would at least try to catch Yankee Doodle Pigeon by using any method possible and using whatever planes Klunk would invent. The beginning of the job I'd have for the next years.
--
Life in the Vulture Squadron wasn't too bad. We had three square meals a day, slept in warm bunk beds, and had frightening, yet memorable adventures. There were even times when we would have time away from catching the pigeon where we would spend time with each other. These were times we've come to call "Wind Dings", because they have nothing whatsoever to do with catching that rotten pigeon. Aside from getting letters from my beloved wife, those Wing Dings were the best times of the day.
My daughter was born on April 5th, 1918. I wanted to go home and see her so bad, but the General said that I couldn't and that I had to stay with the Squadron in case the pigeon ever came by, which he often did. After she was born, my wife sent me a black and white photo of our child. I was so proud of my baby. She is just a newborn and I am already proud of her.
But now it was finally over. Dick, Klunk, Muttley, and I were finally done catching this stupid pigeon. Though we never caught him, but then again, good things did happen. I met Klunk and became a good friend of his. I went to places I never thought I'd go to. Overall, it was okay.
However, that was then, this is now. Now I'm finally going home to my wife, my love, my life. I'm saying my final goodbyes to the chief, Klunk, and Muttley, and now I'm leaving. I'm finally free of that pigeon wherever he is, of the war, the madness; I'm free from the German countryside and of the Vulture Squadron.
Farewell Dick Dastardly...
Farewell Muttley….
Farewell Klunk…
Farewell General…
Farewell Yankee Doodle Pigeon…
Coming home will be an experience I'll never forget. I can't wait to see my daughter for the first time. I can already picture my first encounter. I'll see her being held in my wife's arms. As she stretches out her arms, I'll take the child and hold her closely. From that day forward, there would be kisses and hugs from me to the both of them everyday. My fear is slowly melting away. It's leaving me. The fear I had throughout my days in the squadron is no longer becoming a problem. And I give all the credit to my beautiful family. Only a few more hours until I see them…