A cloudless sky, the early morning coolness of the plains, gold from a rising sun glinting off the long flaxen hair flowing out from under a uniquely designed cavalry hat spreading across the shoulders of a perfectly tailored buckskin jacket worn by a charismatic, flamboyant 36-year-old Lt. Col. Shouting commands in rapid succession—“scouts out,” “point guards take your position,” column of twos,” “forward-ho”–are the orders given as this magnificent specimen of a frontier soldier gallops hurriedly to the fore of his legions on horseback anxious to lead them into battle. It is a thrill few could ever imagine or would ever know. Horse soldiers with flags and pennants flying, carrying the fight to civilize the frontier to the tepee entrance of the uneducated heathen savages who roamed the plains like nomads slowing the wheels of progress–could there be a nobler cause? Is there a heart so cold that it could not be stirred by the sight of this magnificent column of man and beast serving God and country in the form of 31 officers, 566 troopers, 37 scouts of both European and Indian descent, mounted on superbly conditioned and cared-for saddle horses, plus 150 wagons driven by an equal number of teamsters followed by 230 pack mules and their skinner/soldiers tirelessly moving the necessary equipment and supplies forward into the endless clouds of dust made by such a large force of horse soldiers. Compared to the motley undisciplined plains dwellers, the contrast of a well-trained and conditioned force working harmoniously to bring a deserved conclusion to a just and righteous cause is striking. Taming the west stirs the passion, pride, adventure and sense of romance that is embedded in us all. No civilized man, woman or child then or now could be so void of emotion as to not be affected by the sight of such righteous might passing in review. Well, come to think of it–there might be a disenchanted uncivilized group being chased off their land who might view this magnificent sight with a jaundiced eye. On this day–June 25, 1876–along the Little Bighorn River, Lakota Indians, under Chief Sitting Bull, recently joined Northern Cheyenne Indians, under Chief Crazy Horse, and a contingent of Arapaho Indians, under Chief Gall. Welded into an allied force after witnessing the treatment received by Northern Cheyenne at the hands of the white man in their rush to claim the gold discovered in the sacred Black Hills, the tribes realized it was time to join forces, fight and perhaps die for the right to be left alone. During the evening of June 24th Indian Scouts working for the U.S. Cavalry had arrived at a spot called the Crow’s Nest–about 14 miles east of the Little Bighorn River. On the morning of June 25th they reported seeing a village along the Little Bighorn with 949 lodges and estimated between 900 and 1800 warriors in addition to the many women and children expected to be there. It was by far the largest village any of them had ever seen. The horse soldiers’ flaxen-haired Lt. Col., confident he had the advantage, was afraid that this collection of Indian rabble might escape before he could engage and eliminate them. His Indian Scouts continued to warn him of the size of this village but the horse soldiers’ leader remained confident. By late morning the Indian Scouts realized the peril of their situation and began stripping off their Scout uniforms and donning their native garb. Even this failed to alarm the Lt. Colonel. (A year earlier Sitting Bull created the Sun Dance alliance between the Lakota and the Cheyenne; it was a religious ceremony meant to transform young men into warriors without fear of death and promising a life worth living in the here-after. Imagine a religious ceremony encouraging young people to take up arms, sacrifice their lives while engaged in suicide missions on the mere promise of glory and good times in the hereafter—nothing like that could ever happen in the 21st century. Could it?) In any event at around noon on June 25th the Lt. Col. decided he needed to attack immediately before his prey had a chance to escape. By the end of the day 16 officers, 242 troopers, 10 civilians/scouts including the flaxen-haired Lt. Col. George Armstrong Custer were dead–stripped of both their lives and their dignity. Many also lost their scalps and all lost the promised glory of a swift and certain victory for the living. Number of Indian casualties? 36 killed and 168 wounded. It would be a stunning defeat, for the U.S. 7th Cavalry and its horse soldiers as well as a short-lived jubilant victory for a tenuous Indian alliance. As the 20th Century began to mature the cavalry–battered, beaten and replaced by machines–rode off into history with little more than a whimper; that is except for the part that was continually covered with trail dust. The pesky pack animal known as a mule would not go into the night so quietly. It would instead travel its own unique long day’s journey into obscurity. Before that could happen it would caring for army horses on loan to the U.S. Coast Guard. These were horses used for night patrols along the beaches of the gulf from Texas to Louisiana. Excitement and drama having little to do with the war effort occurred during July 1943 when a hurricane visited the area and flattened the officers’ sleeping quarters. They had been constructed of plywood. Shortly after they had been rebuilt, a November tornado gave a repeat performance flattening the quarters for a second time. In December 1943 Dr. Nowlin was transferred to Ft D. A. Russell near Marfa, Texas. The 124th Cavalry, the last active Mounted Cavalry unit in the U.S. Army and a part of the Texas National Guard was on maneuvers there at the same time. Dr. Nowlin provided medical care for saddle horses as well as the draft horses used to carry supplies to the area troops. Draft horses were used to haul freight in an effort to conserve fuel. The staff provided to assist Dr. Nowlin during this time consisted of one clerk and a number of German war prisoners, who he says, “were pretty good workers and I had no trouble with them.” While stationed there, Lt. Nowlin was charged with getting a team of horses ready to pull a 100-year-old stagecoach in a local parade. This, he remembers, was a lot of fun because he and a few others got to travel around the area sightseeing in the stagecoach as a means to break-in horses for this new found duty. The Army Air Corps had a small contingency stationed in the same general area. require a complex combination of tractor, truck, airplane and helicopter, all coming to fruition simultaneously, before the incredibly efficient and capable mule could be fully replaced. It might be said that one of man’s earliest attempts at genetic engineering was a colossal success of epic proportions. Someone more than a century before had taken a male donkey who brayed to a female horse: there is only you and I here, so let’s have at it! It was a match made in . . . aah, the back yard, come to think of it! While the horse soldier and his mount got all the glory, in the days of Custer the mule skinner and the mule for the most part did all the heavy lifting and never complained; they just followed in the trail of dust and dirt left by horse and rider. Perhaps not as dashing or as handsome as the horse, the mule is by all accounts more intelligent, albeit a bit more stubborn than either the donkey or the horse. In addition to food and water, a mule needs few other aids to accomplish its mission: a good cargo saddle, a veterinarian to tend to its medical needs and a mule skinner whose single purpose in life is to point the mule in the right direction and keep it moving with its load of cargo. The latter two require talent and skill, both of which would be put to the test during the 1940s in a place called Burma. Doctor Charles Nowlin, a long time Bay Point resident, became eligible for the second war time draft in 1942 while attending the Auburn University College of Veterinary Medicine. He was given an Army commission while attending school to prevent any possible conflict with his local draft board. Six weeks after graduation, Dr. Nowlin was called to active duty as a First Lieutenant with orders to report to the Sam Houston Veterinary replacement pool. There he received training that consisted of field stripping a 45-caliber pistol as well as the ever important Army way of filling out forms and other paperwork. From there he moved on to Fort Crockett near Galveston Texas and was assigned the duties of Assistant Station Veterinarian assuming also the duties of official War Dog Officer Western Gulf Sub Sector Southern Defense Command. This assignment also included Coincidentally the wife of an Army Air Corps officer came to visit her husband and she was accompanied by her sister. The sister and Dr. Nowlin met and both discovered they had a mutual interest in horseback riding. Riding horses identified as 7T11 and 8S80 provided by the army allowed the couple to meet, get acquainted and eventually fall in love. The day came when Dr. Nowlin received orders to report to New Mexico but 4 days later his orders were changed, sending him to the port of embarkation: Miami, Florida, where he was to receive transportation to India. Because of a 10-day wait, after receiving yellow fever shots and an Army snafu, he spent several weeks on the Southeastern coast of Florida–in a city full of lights and night life. His partner on horseback, Mary Louise Marrietta, who by now had become the “love of his life,” took the doctor to meet her family and before he left for India they were married. Lt. Nowlin and another officer had been scheduled to travel to India together but somehow things did not go as planned. The other officer involved in the snafu was shipped out to India by himself because the orders were misread, leaving Dr. Nowlin waiting to receive travel orders. After waiting for a period of time Doc Nowlin, afraid to have his laundry done because he knew he could be shipped out with just a 24-hour notice, asked for a timeline. It was then that the snafu was realized and suddenly file drawers were flying open and shut as the army realized their mistake. New travel arrangements were put together for Doc Nowlin’s departure, leaving barely enough time to get his laundry cleaned for the long trip to India. Doc was on his way by air to India as a priority #2 traveler, arriving just 4 days after the man who should have been his traveling partner. He was certain the new assignment would be a piece of cake—a suitable and safe place for a newly married Army veterinarian to spend the war. Surely in India he would be out of harm’s way, living as a gentleman in a place where domestic servants could be hired for as little as $5.00 per month.And so it was that Doctor Nowlin went to war prepared to do his patriotic duty in a place he assumed would be relatively peaceful yet exotic; a place made famous by polo, cricket and the stories of Kipling; a place full of intrigue, mystery and excitement. India, he thought, would be his home away from home.
Custer’s defeat at the hands of an under appreciated and little understood enemy has been picked apart and dissected by almost every type of commission, group, military and political entity known to man. The bottom line in most reports state that an overly confident, arrogant cavalry officer– who at the age of 25 had held a rank of brevet (temporary) Major General (acquiring the less than flattering title “Boy General”)–led his forward cavalry units, who found themselves in disarray as they reached the Little Big Horn, into an Indian trap where they, along with the flaxen-haired former boy General, were slaughtered 66 years later another American General would be given an impossible assignment– this time in the China-Burma-India Theater. His reputation, wartime conduct and accomplishments have been scrutinized, studied and examined with mixed conclusions also. Hero to some, villain to many, and cantankerous to all—he, unlike Custer, faced an enemy who in the beginning held little regard for the collection of multi-national forces gathered under the command of a man known to the world as “Vinegar Joe.” Burma, a geographic and logistics nightmare, had few means–with the exception of the Burma Road connecting China to India and occupied by the Japanese—capable of moving supplies and ammunition, the kind required to keep an army in the field and fighting. During 1943 India became home to a very large military contingency consisting of a strange mix of Allied as well as American soldiers, augmented by some 3,000 mules. There man and mule began to prepare for the liberation of Burma and its road to China. Destined to provide mass transportation to this odd assortment of liberators, mules, seasick and weary–after a long and dangerous journey across the Pacific, one that often took months–arrived in India unaware of what they would be required to do. Traveling by sea was dangerous; a ship containing 300 mules was sunk by a Jap submarine offshore from the city of Bombay. All 300 mules drowned; the good luck was that all the crew survived and made it to shore safely. It seems fitting now that the most cantankerous General in the most cantankerous war theater would have to rely on the most cantankerous and obstinate pack animals working in the most cantankerous living conditions to succeed. General Joseph Stillwell took to his assignment in the China-Burma-India Theater like a duck to water. He made it known early and often—he didn’t particularly like anyone! He abused his men, refused to give them timely medical assistance, belittled allies such as Generalissimo Chiang Kai Shek, commander of Nationalist Chinese forces, and pointed out publicly whenever possible that corruption, not the availability of war material, was holding the Chinese back from defeating the Japanese invader. Less than two months after taking command of the China-Burma-India Theater from theBritish, Stillwell was humiliated by having to order a retreat out of Burma. Refusing to be evacuated by airplane himself, he led a 114-mile marching retreat, never very far ahead of a Japanese force in hot pursuit. The retreat out of Burma ended in India. Stillwell’s blunt and honest assessment of the disaster captured the imagination of the American public: “I claim we got a hell of a beating. We got run out of Burma and it is humiliating as hell. I think we ought to find out what caused it, go back and retake it.” When it came to stinging rebukes and insulting allies, Stillwell, with the possible exception of Patton, had no peers! In fact he had just begun to fight or insult, whichever the case may be. Heaping derogatory remarks and castigating the ineffectiveness of what he termed “Limey forces,” a viewpoint and a term often repeated by Stillwell’s staff, the General went on the offensive. It should be mentioned here that the comments of “Vinegar Joe” did not sit well with the British and their Commonwealth commanders. When Stillwell wasn’t fighting with his allies, he would turn his attention to the Japanese and often, out-manned and out-gunned, his men would beat the sons of Nipon into submission. And so it was as the summer of 1944 faded in a place that wreaked with hostility, danger, jungles and mountains, under the command of a man called Vinegar Joe, that our real story begins. Lt. Charles L. Nowlin, DVM, arrived in India prepared to assume the life of a gentleman; however, that was not to be. Fate played a cruel trick and Doc, as he became known, would eventually be assigned to a Burma-bound unit. Doc was sent to the Veterinary Company of the 10th Mountain Medical Battalion supporting Chinese Forces. After arriving in Myitkyina he decided to take time to introduce himself to the Comman Veterinary Officer; upon learning of Doc’s assignment the commander re-assigned him to 475th Infantry. There he was outfitted with a Gurkhas knife, a 45-caliber pistol, two pairs of fatigue pants, one jacket, socks, and both cotton and wool underclothes. Doc says nights in the high mountain elevation got so cold that canteens often froze during the night. The wool underclothes were a real necessity. After receiving a new set of orders Doc, was loaded into an L-5 aircraft and flown to a spot where he would join the Mars Task Force. On the plane ride Doc, looking out the right side of the aircraft for signs of elephants or tigers, had his attention directed by the pilot to the left side of the aircraft. There he watched as P-47s attacked Japanese forces at Bhamo; it was a sight he will never forget. In a clearing surrounded by rice paddies and jungle Doc made contact with his unit and began his march into a unique niche in military history. The remnants of the battered 5307th Composite Unit (Provisional), an all-volunteer group once led by General Frank Merrill, had in 1943 formed and trained in secret in the jungles of India. In February of 1944 the training ended and the 5307th launched an attack through the Burma jungle, fording rivers and climbing mountains, using 360 mules as pack animals to carrysupplies and ammunition, as well as 60MM M2 Bazookas and a sole 75MM pack cannon to attack Japanese long range artillery. They began the 800-mile trek from India’s Ledo area across Burma to the airfield at Mytikyina. It took 4 months during which they battled jungles, monsoons, 8,000-foot mountains and, of course, thousands of Japanese troops. They were constantly outnumbered and out-gunned but continued to stave off both the environment and their Japanese opponents. The continuous battle against man, mountain, flood and jungle would require overwhelming determination and ferocity from this new Long Range Penetration Force if they were just to survive, never mind succeed at their mission. Finally, and against all odds, they reached their objective and attacked the Japanese airfield at Myitkyina. Of the 2,950 volunteers who began the march, only 200 were able to fight the battle to capture the airfield and the town. General Merrill and his men had for months fought in jungles and mountains but now they would confront their enemy in Myitkyina, a town that had been heavily fortified by Japanese defenders. Always the underdog, the Americans were, to a man, determined to defeat the vaunted 18th Division of the Imperial Japanese Army. This was the same Japanese division that had earlier in the war mercilessly overrun Singapore. As the 5307th, whose Army code name was GALAHAD, gained notoriety worldwide, it became known–first in news outlets–as Merrill’s Marauders. The 4-legged marauder, a/k/a the tireless and hard working mule, became not only a trusted and reliable partner to the Marauders but in many cases was viewed as a friend and a partner. Friendship between man and mule did not come easy; many of the men had to work hard to understand what the mule was all about, but the unflinching efforts of both man and mule in the jungles and across the mountains of Burma was appreciated by all who served in the 5307th Composite Group, prompting General Merrillto say, after the Marauder campaign to destroy the Myitkyina airfield: “Next time give me mule skinners instead of doughboys, for it is easier to make doughboys out of mule skinners than mule skinners out of doughboys.” Of the 5307th volunteers, fewer than 150 would survive the entire campaign that along the way included 5 major battles and 17 skirmishes as well as the attack on Myitkyina. Those few who survived formed the basis of the July 26, 1944, 5332nd Brigade (provisional), known also as the MARS TASK FORCE, a group that included “Doc” Nowlin, the 475 Infantry and about 300 mules for Doc to look after. Camp Landis, home during training for the Mars Task Force, provided little send off for the Brigade as they crossed the Irriwaddy River and headed south. Each man carried between 60 and 80 pounds and they marched for 50 minutes, resting for 10 minutes each hour. Mules, as with Merrill’s Marauders, carried the heavy stuff such as machine guns and mortars (60 and 81MM) as well as the medical supplies needed by Doc and the other medical units. Depending on terrain, the task force traveled 15 to 20 miles each day. They fought behind enemy lines throughout Burma and into China. They were responsible for opening and making safe the Burma Road. Designed to accomplish long range penetration behind enemy lines while operating in extreme conditions, the Mars Task Force gained much from the experience of Special Forces under General Merrill as well as the British Chindits. The Chindits were a collection of British soldiers, Burma Rifles, Hong Kong Volunteers, West Africans and Gurkhas—all serving under British General Wingate before he was killed in action. Every member of the Mars Task Force because of both the training and the mission were designated “Special Forces.” They continued using the army code name GALAHAD given to Merrill’s Marauders because the mission as well as the menace of fighting in Burma and later in China had not changed. The only distinction was the designation“OLD GALAHAD,” which was given to those who served under General Merrill and“NEW GALAHAD,”which was applied to new members of the Mars Task Force. Everyone in the Task Force was special because the obstacles and dangers they had to overcome, both personally and as a unit, in order to prevail were extreme. Much of what they learned came from on-thejob training, and for this reason alone they were very special“Special Forces.”The full complement of the Mars Task Force, having replaced and absorbed Merrill’s Marauders in August 1944 was made up of two regiments: the 475th Infantry that included the remnants of Merrill’s Marauders, and later the 124th Cavalry dismounted– the former Texas National Guard Unit that Doc had served with during his stay in Texas. Their mission for the next several months consisted of operating around and behind enemy lines, cutting off supplies and reinforcements and clearing the Burma Road of the Japanese menace.
China’s main link to western supplies stored in India would be the Burma Road, and without it everything had to be air-lifted into China over The Himalayas in an effort that became known as “flying the hump.”Mules used by Merrill as well as the Mars Task Force to move supplies for the most part came from the farms of America. Having been replaced by tractors and trucks, a great number of mules were available to be drafted, so to speak, into the United States military. In Alabama, Davie Harbor (now Doescher), a Bay Point resident, grew up on a family farm not unlike many others in rural America during that time. Her father, who had the unusual first name of“A,” worked the farm using a combination of mules and tractor and, in the course of events, he developed, as do most who were associated with mules, a respect for the hard-working creatures as well as a genuine attachment. Like so many others, A and his family, including Davie, treated their mules like family members. As with most mules and as a sign of respect, mule owners generally gave the mules names more associated with humans. Davie’s dad named their mules Emmer and Dave and they remained on the farm way past their usefulness in what might be termed mule retirement. Due to heart problems her dad was unable to join the armed forces, but after seeing an ad put out by the Army for mules he found a way to join the war effort. He traveled the area buying up mules, checking and when necessary putting shoes on the mules because an army requirement was that mules come complete with shoes. Each week A would deliver them to the Army Collection Center for Mules in Memphis TN. Here they were processed and shipped to the war zone.
Never did her father think of selling Emmer or Dave; after all, they were part of his family. Right up until the end of 1945 he traveled the area looking for mules to serve a nation at war. For the mules that joined the army there would be no rest. Thousands of mules were loaded on ships that would take as much as two months traveling through hostile waters before reaching their destination. One of the first things members of the Mars Task Force, such as Doc Nowlin, as well as the contingent of mules, would learn is simply that the jungle is everywhere; it is above, below and wrapped around you in one form or another continuously. Once you enter the jungle you are covered by a canopy of green and are consumed with the task of getting untangled from its web of vines, branches and vegetation. All the while an unrelenting steamy heat saps the very strength needed to move forward and complete the mission. Time after time task force members climbing mountains ranging 6 to 8 thousand feet above sea level would reach the summit only to stare across a new stretch of jungle to a new set of mountains before plunging down the mountain’s other side and becoming mired in another never ending carpet of green jungle, working their way once again to the foot of the next mountain. During this adventure many difficulties previously believed to be impossible were overcome. They learned that men, mules and fighting equipment could be moved even during the monsoons over the mountainous Burma jungle trails. Once during three days of torrential rain, known by some as the Christmas monsoons, the movement of men, mules and equipment continued against all odds. Trails became running streams of water; narrow paths lining the edges of the mountain ranges became slippery deathtraps. Necessarily, some mule loads were thrown and animals plunged headlong or backwards off trails. Doc remembers when Jenny, the mule that carried his medical supplies, slipped and fell backwards; then when she tried to regain her footing in the normal front feet first method for mules getting up, the heavy load caused her to flip over a number of times and disappear off the narrow mountain trail. Doc had seen Jenny flip over several times, smashing backwards onto the ground, and was positive her neck had been broken. Several weeks later they found Jenny alive and well. She had survived what should have been a fatal fall with no serious side affects at all. The Mars Task Force employed approximately 3,000 mules and 7,000 men in the fight to open the Burma Road; during the actual movement Doc’s unit lost over twenty mule loads of goods and equipment. Many mules were lost to Japanese artillery fire because while war dogs understood the safety of the fox hole when Jap artillery began shelling the Task Force camps, mules had to stand in the open and take the shelling without having any defense or a place to hide. Of the 300 mules in Doc’s care about 100 were killed or wounded. Helplessly watching mules under fire was both frustrating and gruesome. However, it was not nearly as bizarre and gruesome as the Chinese custom of leaving dead Japanese soldiers with a hand or a leg sticking out of their graves. The Chinese believed this would prevent the Japanese soldiers from joining their ancestors. Initial Army training of mules had been along herding principles, with one skinner and a belled mare leading the way, the practice taught mules to bunch up and move as one making the mules suseptible to enemy artillery fire. The Mars Task Force system of a mule skinner for each mule paid rich dividends; mules were taught to be more independent. The Mars Task Force received supplies by airdrop about every three days. During one encounter to prevent Japanese reinforcements from reaching Bhamo Doc’s unit came between two Japanese forces one out of Tonkawa the other at Bhamo. One of the first orders received was to dig in; it was a harbinger of things to come. The skinners drove the mules up into a draw that provided some protection for them but not nearly enough. In one place know as Dead Mule Gulch 20 mules were killed by Japanese artillery fire. The fighting was fierce. During the night the Japanese began a series of bonsai charges each one becoming more critical threatening the survival of the American forces and their situation. With no way of re-supplying absent an air drop each bonsai drained supplies and ammunition. After the fourth bonsai charge the Americans doubted they would survive a fifth. They waited and waited for the final Japanese assault but it never came they had avoided a disaster in the jungle by a stroke of good luck. The mule made a considerable contribution to the war effort in a most unforgiving and hostile environment under the most trying of conditions only to be discharged unceremoniously where they were standing when the war ended. After the war there would be no return trip to America for the mules; they remained in China where those that could work did and those that could not became dinner for the local Chinese. Like the men the mules gave their all to the war effort without bias or even understanding why. They just followed the lead of their skinner, their trusted friend and partner, assuming the relationship would last forever. There would never be a day or a parade or a symbol to honor the mule and so it has been left to those who served with and often survived because of the hardy hard working mule, to tell their story–a story of honest effort, earned respect and loyalty to a partner proudly known to all as a mule skinner. Those who served with the mules will carry the memory and the stories of mules with them forever. The Mars Task Force, both man and beast, fought and died in a place few even today understand or know anything about. It was a theater of war where daily, as a matter of routine, both mule and men had to go above and beyond the normal call to duty if they and the mission were to be successful. American forces discovered a portion of the original route Marco Polo traveled that cut some 200 miles off the trip from India to China and they began incorporating this find into the Burma Road. The Japanese many believe, not to be out-done, found a way to infect chiggers, insects common to many parts of Burma, with the dreaded disease known as Scrub Typhus.
Within Doc’s unit of 32 men 8 contracted the deadly disease and 4 men died a horrible death“Today,” Doc says, “Scrub Typhus can be controlled by a simple shot and a couple days of rest.” In any event the combined effort that took place in Burma is a tribute to man and mule because both suffered greatly in the cause. Dr. Nowlin, received a promotion to Captain during this campaign for his efforts and, after being wounded by mortar fire, Doc was awarded the “Purple Heart” as well as a combat medical badge. Like the others in his unit, he received the Bronze Star because of his ability to work, fight and survive in the forbidding and hostile Burma landscape. Doc, and the mules, ended their combat career in China. Having eliminated the Japanese menace, the warring factions among the Chinese, after 20 years of turmoil, death and destruction, found peace unbearable so they entered into a civil war and began fighting and killing each other.
After the war was over Doc moved to Panama City, set up practice and, not quite able to get the Army out of his system, joined the Army Reserves where he rose to the rank of Lt. Col. After 35 years, Doc retired from his medical practice and made Bay Point his home. Burma and the Mars Task Force was a long time ago but for Doc it is a part of his life that remains vivid, clear and full of purpose. A world war would end but the promise of a universal peace has always remained elusive. The end to fighting in the jungles and mountains of Burma and the push into China became the sunset for the mule as a working partner in the endeavors of man against man. However, for those who worked the mules on farms or the thousands of soldiers who reluctantly became mule skinners and in the process fell in love with their charges, it is a memory and a love affair of sorts that grows stronger with the passing of time. Men like Doc Nowlin who cared for the mules and the thousands who would not have survived without the mules will always pay silent tribute and, whenever possible, sing the praises of their four-legged friends, partners and sometime care providers. It was an important time in history involving a great military adventure in a remote and unforgiving place fraught with danger and excitement. For the men involved there developed an abiding and shared appreciation for their unusual wartime friend and partner: When from time to time they recall their war time adventure it simply is not complete without remembering the sturdy, dependable and when all is said and done lovable mule. ■