William A. Wynne - Yorkie Doodle Dandy

by William A. Wynne

by William A. Wynne

In the context of the greatest devastation in planet Earths history, and the subsequent eradication of over 100 million human beings peopling it, the story about a dog in World War II is indeed insignificant.

But wars, large or small, are made up of millions of stories experienced by those involved in the war itself or by those remaining at home. From the broad point of view of nations being pulverized or vaporized, any personal experience is less than a footnote. Yet, for individuals who are thrust into such catastrophes, a time comes when little things become big things.

This was brought out in 1990, during a late-night television news broadcast of an interview with an American soldier in the Kuwait desert. The soldier said of the lengthening waiting, the days, weeks, months: We began to appreciate small things as we never did before. Someone received a yo-yo. He and his companions became delighted just making it go up and down.

Smokys and my war story is about a little thing that became bigger after the war.

Our postwar story is perhaps a bit more tangible. We continued in the entertainment field and pioneered in television. Raising a growing family in the era of baby boomers to make ends meet, there was always the real job. The real jobs were necessary because being home with Margie and the children was most important. My being from a broken family was enough for me to resolve it would never happen in my family.

No doubt working as a flight photographer in Icing Research for NACA/NASA would be more than exciting employment for most people, without being on stage. Also, working as a photojournalist for one of the largest newspapers is hardly dull work. The newspaper work came for the most part, later.

This story though is mostly about a mighty little dog I was fortunate enough to have. A dog that was shared with millions of others.

In 1995, William Hennessee of the Sherman Grinberg Film Library, former Commercial Archivist of Paramount/ABC News N.Y. 1927-57, viewed Smoky in a 1946 newsreel from Great Lakes Naval Station Hospital in Lake County, Illinois. He commented, It was funny. In peacetime after 50 years, Smoky was still funny. You might imagine how much fun she was under the stresses of war. Fun and humor was the point of her whole existence. And now some are saying that Smoky is the greatest dog of all.

No one accomplishes anything alone in this world, and credit is due to many. I want to thank my wife, Margie and my mother, Beatrice Caffrey Wynne, for the typing, correcting and editing they both provided immediately following World War II. Their efforts permitted the assembling of stories which formed the basis upon which large parts of this book were constructed. It is amazing how much that sort of information the mind forgets over many years. Their earlier work has been invaluable.

Thanks to Martin T. Ranta, a retired editor of the Cleveland Plain Dealer , who generously took on the task of editing this book, stealing time from his family on top of working as a copy editor with the San Diego Union, and Martys wife, Virginia, who assisted. To my daughter, Marcia Wynne Deering, for typing edited copy and helping in research and publishing. To Max Riddle, the ultimate dog expert, who graciously wrote in the Foreword what he had been telling people for years. To the Richland County, Ohio Madison Branch librarians, who searched for and borrowed books for reference from all over the State of Ohio.