Flight Plan

easily bested every boy his age and physical skills. He had plenty of lean muscle from hours of hard physical labor. And while he excelled at running and jumping, and was even an accomplished axe thrower, it was wrestling that he enjoyed the most. In fact, by the time he was twenty one, he'd won every single match he entered, becoming the reigning champion in America. Needless to say, he was good,

really good, and he knew it. In a biography written many years later, it was said that after one particular wrestling match, he looked out into the crowd and declared himself the big Buck of the sports and challenged anyone who thought differently to step on up and give it their best. Now, his claim might have sounded a bit arrogant coming from anyone else, but the townsfolk knew he

was right. He could back all that talk up. After all, he had competed in over three hundred matches and had lost only once after taking a bad step and falling bold statements. Aside, though the townsfolk liked him, he had a solid reputation for being forthright, hard working, kind and dependable. Boasting wasn't usually his thing, so if he claimed that he was the best, well then he was. Not a

single person accepted his challenge. He wasn't the only champion wrestler in the area, though, another wrestler about the same age lived just one county over, and by some accounts, he was as big and strong as a Russian bear. His name even sounded like a formidable wrestler, Jack Armstrong and Jack Armstrong had a fan club of sorts, a gang of troublemakers called the Cleary Grove Boys. For laughs, they once put a drunk into a barrel and closed

it tight, and then rolled him down a hill. If the barrel hadn't broken on a tree, it would have plunged into the river. Another time, they burned a man's wooden leg, forcing him to watch. I'd venture to say that they were the only ones laughing at their attempt at a joke. Jack kept hearing great things about his neighboring rival and decided that he and his gang needed to rough him up a bit. But our local hometown champion talked him into a fair fight instead, or so

he thought. Jack, certain that his bear like strength and bulk outmatched his much taller and lean built competitor, agreed to the challenge, but Jack would soon find out that he was wrong about that. The two men squared off on a dusty street on a sunny afternoon, like old West gun slingers. Spectators gathered to watch, and a few even placed bets. Moments into the match, however, those who

had bet on Jack realized their mistake. Jack's friends had circled around, jabbing and punching, and even attempting to kick the legs out from the taller man. It was clearly underhanded, and the crowd jeered. Instead of stooping to the gang's level, our champions simply lifted Jack off his feet and slammed him to the ground. Then he offered to take Jack's friends on one by one after he finished with Jack, of course, and that's when something interesting happened. Jack Armstrong

called off his gang and admitted defeat. The story goes that Jack was so taken with his rivals handling of the situation and the crowd's admiration of him, that he changed his ways to become more like his competitor. In fact, the two would eventually become good friends. The lesson hadn't gone unnoticed by our small town hero either. He'd made a lasting impression on those attending and changed a bully

into someone who cared for others. Learning how to fight fair and having the courage to do the right thing would become key qualities for the rest of his life. But for all his talent as a wrestler, that's just

a tiny part of his accomplishments. You see. After leaving his small hometown, he went on to serve in the military, became an accomplished public speaker, a lawyer, a writer, and a U. S Senator, And in twenty seven years after his death, he was also awarded a spot in the Wrestling Hall of Fame, a pretty nice achievement, but certainly

not his biggest. No. That would be the time, he climbed his way to the top of American politics, becoming the sixteenth President of the United States and later the author of the Gettysburg Address, Abraham Lincoln. With the American twenty Division flanking their rights and the French Fourth Army flanking their left, Major Whittlesey led five fifty men from different troops passed the significantly wired and gardis post of the Argonne Forest. Their mission was to reach Hill on

October two of nineteen eighteen. They made their way through the dense forest, and while they encountered some resistance while capturing Hill one night, they had no idea that the rest of the Americans and the French had come under heavy fire and had to turn back. Soon, the Germans closed in circling Whittlesey and his men. The Major sent runners to get help, but they were either captured by Germans or killed before reaching safety. The Major soon realized

their predicament. With only two choices to either hold their ground or attempt to retreat, he and his men agreed to stay and fight at all costs, so they dug in, firing back and holding down the hill with everything they had. For five days, those men fought bravely, withstanding one assault of gunfire and grenade attack after another, food and ammunition ran low. The only water available meant crawling to a stream while under sniper fire, and the Germans cut off

all radio communications. And then things got worse. The battalion came under friendly fire from the Americans, who had mistaken the lost battalion for the enemy. So Whittlesey sent a carrier pigeon to the nearby American forces, telling them to stop their fire. Yes, a carrier pigeon, you see. Back then, radios were heavy and not always reliable. Connecting the wires

quickly was not only difficult, but often dangerous. Carry your pigeons, on the other hand, were fast, flying it close to fifty miles per hour, and they proved to be much more reliable too. Because of this, German machine gunners often targeted the words stop the bird, stop the message. The Germans shot down every bird the battalion scent They've taken heavy casualties. Bandages were in such short supply that they were removed from the dead and reused on the living.

The men honestly couldn't last much longer, but they had one bird left, a female named Scheremi. The major jotted down one last message, We are along the road parallel to seventies six point four. American artillery is dropping a barrage directly on us. For Heaven's sake, make it stop. As soon as they sent the bird on her mission, a shell exploded beneath her, killing five men. Others watched in horror and despair. As chere Amie fluttered in the sky,

disoriented and desperately avoiding gunfire. A bullet grazed her chest, sunning feathers, and Cheremi spiraling to the ground. Their last hope was gone, except that it wasn't. That little bird, now blind one eye and with a serious wound in her chest, took flight once more. Jeremy seemed as determined to live as the men who had sent her. For twenty five miles, she flew through enemy lines, dodging wave after wave of machine gun fire and every attempt to

shoot her down. Meanwhile, the men hung on for another forty five minutes, and then as suddenly as it began, the friendly fire stopped. For a moment. There was silence before the sound of mortars started up again, this time hitting the Germans with hope restored, the remaining men continued to fight. Five days later, the Germans were driven back. On October eight, four survivors from the lost battalion made their way safely to American territory, all thanks to the

sacrifice of little Jeremy. But Jeremy's story doesn't end there soon she was given one of France's most honored awards for her bravery on the battlefield. American General John Pershing said, there isn't anything the United States can do too much for this bird. On the day Jeremy arrived at her destination, bleeding and weary, medics had rushed to save her. They amputated her leg and remove the shrapnel, and miraculously Jeremy lift. For her valor, she was returned to her trainer and

handler in New Jersey. Jeremy, the carrier pigeon who saved the Lost Battalion from the Germans and friendly fire, passed away on June of nineteen nine. Her heroics and her name will never be forgotten. After all, Jeremy is French for dear friend. I hope you've enjoyed today's guided tour of the Cabinet of Curiosities. Subscribe for free on Apple Podcasts, or learn more about the show by visiting Curiosities podcast dot com. The show was created by me Aaron Manky

in partnership with how Stuff Works. I make another award winning show called Lore, which is a podcast, book series, and television show and you can learn all about it over at the World of Lore dot com. And until next time, stay curious. Yeah,