The colonel’s driver took them directly to a lush green pasture next to the stables. A small brook ran down the middle of a verdant meadow dotted with dandelions and daisies. Several dozen horses were grazing, but one horse in particular caught Phil’s eye …[1]

… a gorgeous bay-colored Thoroughbred with high withers, a deep chest, a short back, and a lean muscular body. He admired the remarkable horse’s deep hindquarters and long legs.

But what caught Phil’s attention was the horse’s unique head. Not attractive or sleek, just clunky looking. An unusual sight, especially given the horse’s beautiful and muscular line.

Then the horse looked up at him as he chewed a bit of fresh grass. Phil’s eyes widened when he noticed an unusual and small white star-shaped marking on the lower middle of the Thoroughbred’s chest.

His mind immediately returned to his covert mission to Czechoslovakia just days before a bullet shattered his right leg. For a moment, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

Could it be him? But how?

He looked at Ross and the colonel, who were both carefully watching him. Then McGarr broke into an ear-to-ear smile and nodded. “It’s him.”

“Tuckern?”

McGarr slapped a hand on Phil’s shoulder. “I believe you’ve met before.”

Phil looked back at the stallion in utter disbelief. At first, he felt his jaw drop ever so slightly as his eyes widened. Then his lips tightened. Without even thinking, he whistled. The horse’s ears perked up and pointed forward to capture the sound.

Phil whistled again, and in an instant, the Thoroughbred charged toward them. Phil stepped up on a middle rail, then threw his new leg over the top railing, hopping the fence and landing in the pasture.

For a moment, he thought the steed might run him over. But then the sixteen-hander pulled himself up just a few feet away from Phil. He snorted and shook his ugly head.

Phil squatted down, almost instinctively, and looked at the horse’s chest. He’d noticed the same unique marking in Czechoslovakia. The horse walked up to him and allowed him to stroke his nose.

Phil felt his eyes misting and glanced back at Ross and Colonel McGarr. He was speechless.

“After your mission,” McGarr began, “word got back to me about you and that Thoroughbred—that there seemed to be a bond. Don’t know why, but that fact stuck with me. It’s a funny thing about the life of a commander. Thousands of things happen every day, especially in the pitch of battle. Most are forgotten. But some stick. This did.”

Phil slowly stood and walked to Tuckern’s side, gently stroking his neck.

“When you were wounded, exactly one month before the end of that godforsaken war, I took the news more personally than I usually did. I guess we all, after so many, many months of fighting and carnage, grew a bit calloused to losing men.”

McGarr looked across the field, toward the forest.

“When you were wounded, I thought of what I had heard about this horse. Once I knew the generals had approved the mission to rescue the Lipizzaner horses, I requested that Tuckern be brought out with the rest.”

(TO BE CONTINUED TOMORROW)

~~~~~

[1] Larimore, At First Light, 314.

[2] “Kriegie” was a term former POWs in Germany called themselves. It comes from the German word Kriegsgefangene, which means “prisoner of war.”

[3] Larimore, At First Light, 314-315.

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December 24, 1945M