A plaque now tells the story of Marine Sgt. Pal, cannonized in this statue on West King Street near the rail trail in York. Background posts: Marine and his dog meet after 60 years and Rail trail ribbons criss crossing York County.
A plaque installed last year near the statue of Pal, a member of World War II's Dogs for Defense, answers a key question: Did the local German shepherd survive the war?
Arthur Glatfelter and Pal pose together in this picture. Pal, Glatfelter's pet, was trained as a Marine war dog in World War II. After the war, Art Glatfelter went on to found the mammoth Glatfelter Insurance Agency.
Pal was a scout, messenger, stalker and pointer in the Pacific in World War II. As such, he put his life on the line as one of 72 dogs in the 3rd Marine Dog Platoon.
The plaque says he was honorably discharged in 1946 with the rank of sergeant.
So, he did survive.
The plaque also gives a fascinating bit of information.
In three different random moments, he and his owner, Marine Sgt. Art Glatfelter were re-united.
On three different beaches.
Here's Pal's profile, according to sculptor Lorann Jacobs:
Pal the dogLocation: York County Rail Trail Heritage Park at King Street, York
Year: 2006
Size: 5 1/2 feet long, 2 1/2 feet tall
Weight: 300 pounds
Cost: $10,000
Jacobs: "I made him double thick because I knew he was going to go close to the ground and near the street. So if someone runs over him . . ."
In the mid to late Viet Nam War, I lived near North Carolina State University, Raleigh. A professor there had a contract to teach dogs to sniff-out land mines. I was an Eastern Air Lines ramp serviceman at the RDU airport. Seymour Johnson Air Force Base, Goldsboro, would ship their police dogs via RDU. A ramp serviceman opened the aft cargo door of a just arrived 727. The police dog had chewed itself free through a heavy aluminum cage, and jumped over the head of the startled rampie to freedom; running up and down the runway, snapping at crickets and butterflies. The guards had said never approach one; but I had to clear the runway. A paper bag of left-over tourist class hamburger steaks got his attention whilst I drove a tractor, throwing to ground a steak when he caught up with me. Finally, in safe area, I placed a steak before the open door of a baggage container can, then another just inside it's door lip, and dumped the rest far in the back. He gobbled the grounded steak, but was affraid of standing on the wheel to get the one just inside, so I snuck-up and held his aft legs level with the front ones in the container. That eaten, he longed for the rest in the back but was afraid of the floor, so I walked his hind legs forward until his front ones reached the feast. Finally feasting, I shut the lid while he consumed the remaining evidence. When the guards arrived; puzzled, they asked how ever did I get him in the "can"? I said I just called him "Here dog"; then inside, petted him saying "Good dog"; and then gently closed the lid. The door re-opened, they saw one happy, belly-engorged dog. Eastern had "Famous Restaurant" flights in those days. Jim/Southport NC