Today's trip through the halls of the Cabinet will take us past two very unique individuals, both of whom made a name for themselves in their respective fields.
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Our world is full of the unexplainable, and if history is an open book, all of these amazing tales right there on display, just waiting for us to explore. Welcome to the Cabinet of Curiosities. When you're fighting a certain kind of enemy, it's not always about who has more guns or more soldiers. The ability to understand the opposing side and develop a solid strategy can lead to shorter wars and less bloodshed. During and after World War Two, when the United States needed help handling a foreign power as quickly as possible, they called on one man. His name was Edward Lansdale, and he was a United States Air Force officer. His specialty was psychological warfare, getting into the heads of his enemies and using their beliefs against them. For example, in Vietnam in the nineteen fifties, he helped lead five hundred thousand Catholic refugees out of Communists led North Vietnam by spreading religious propaganda. The pamphlets he helped distribute claimed Christ has gone to the South and insinuated a nuclear bomb would be dropped on Hannoi at any moment. And the plan worked. The mass migration allowed South Vietnam to take over as the majority half of the country. However, Lansdale's efforts there were fairly tame compared to some of his other attempts at military manipulation. Upon discovering the Vietnamese people's belief in prophecy, he paid local fortune tellers and astrologers to write predictions for an almanac he was publishing. Once completed, he snuck it across enemy lines and let it do its work. The book forecasted problems for the people in the north, encouraging them to move to the south, where it was safer. But perhaps his wildest idea came in the nineteen fifties, while he was working to squash communist uprising in the Philippines. Soldiers who didn't want to be associated with the rich Manilan Filipinos embraced communism and formed their own rebel militia called the Hucks, and their numbers were growing. Lansdale was sent in to stop them. Unfortunately, the Hucks had taken a prime position at the top of a hill Loson and US forces were unable to get to them without sustaining significant casualties. But Lansdale had an idea. He knew what the rebels were afraid of, and it wasn't guns or bombs. It was called an oswang, a creature with a long tongue and sharp teeth that drained its victims blood, kind of like a vampire. Lansdale went to work spreading rumors about an oswang feeding nearby, hoping to spook them, but rumors wouldn't be enough to convince the Hucks to leave their position. He had his troops weighed along unknown route for enemy patrols. As the Hucks passed by, Lansdale's men snatched the last rebel in line, a poor guy who had just fallen and behind enough so as not to be heard as he was carried off into the woods. Then he was strung upside down and his neck was punctured, leaving two small holes. He was then drained of his blood and tossed back onto the road where he had been taken from. After that, it was just a matter of waiting for him to be discovered. The rebel soldiers returned looking for their fallen friend, and there he was, pale, lifeless, and brandishing the telltale signs of an oswang attack. The next day, the Hucks left the hill for a safer position. Lansdale's ruse had worked flawlessly, although he wasn't done just yet. One Oswang attack would not end the whole rebellion, so he went on to paint all Seen Eyes on the doors of homes where it was thought that rebels might be hiding. He even had low flying planes transmit messages to make the Hucks think that there were spies everywhere, and not long after, the Hucks surrendered, ending their rebellion and earning Edward Lansdale a place in history as someone who didn't um suck at winning wars, even if he had to pretend to be a vampire to do it. They say dogs in the workplace lead to less stress for employees. This results in more productivity, pure sick days taken, and a higher morale. But the idea of taking your pet to work didn't originate with big companies like Google or Amazon. In fact, as far back as the eighteen hundreds, canine companions were a common sight at certain workplaces. One such pooch was named Ony. He was a terrier and the unofficial mascot of Albany, New York's post office. Back in the late eighteen hundreds, Owny liked to hang around and sleep in the mail bags while his owner worked, and even after his owner quit the post office, Owney stayed hind to keep watch over the letters and packages that came through. The dog was very protective of the mail bags, and when one moved, he would follow it to the train that it was eventually loaded onto. Riding the rails from Albany to another location, Ony stayed with the mail and made sure only mail clerks ever handled the bags. And since none of the trains he wrote on ever derailed or crashed, they started to view him as a good luck charm. Over the years, only traveled all over the United States protecting the mail. The New York Central Railroad system was able to go just about anywhere from the Albany station, taking only to places like Boston, Cleveland, Chicago, and even farther out. And no matter where he went, the little terrier from New York always had someone to look out for him. Mail carriers from across the country loved Oy like he was one of their own, and in a way he was. He was kind of an honorary postal employee, while the U. S. Postal Service unofficially adopted him as a mascot for the whole organization. They also treated him much like a parcel. Wherever he went, they tagged him and then sent him along to the next destination. The only difference was that he got to eat and drink before the trip. At every stop along the way, only would have another tag added to his collar, and as his trips grew longer that collar grew heavier it would jingle as he walked, and when it got to be too much for him to carry, the Postmaster General had a coat made to display them instead. Over time, even the coat became too cumbersome for him. He was just a small little terrier after all. It's believed that over time only had accumulated over one thousand medals and tags during his time on the rails, which was a lot for that tiny pooch to carry. He certainly earned each one, though. On one trip, a mail pouch had fallen off a delivery wagon and Onny jumped out to stay behind and protect it. After all the deliveries had been made, the clerks noticed the missing bag and the missing dog. They retray used their routes until eventually they found the bag and there was only laying on top of it, waiting for them to return. But the dog's greatest journey was still ahead. In Ony went international. He wrote on trains and steamships, protecting the mail as it traveled through Asia, Africa, Europe, and the Middle East, and he did this for an entire year. According to one report, he even received passports and medals directly from the Emperor of Japan, and when he finally returned to America on December's feet was publicized by newspapers all over the country, turning him into a pint size celebrity. But all that travel would eventually take its toll on the beloved mascot. After accumulating over one hundred forty three thousand miles through his time at the postal Service, he'd had enough. It had an help that his health was failing, and he'd grown a bit aggressive in his old age. Two years following that famous trip around the world only was put down on he'd apparently attacked the postal clerk and a U. S. Marshal, though it's believed that he had been mistreated prior to that attack. Regardless, only left an indelible mark on both the postal Service and the country as a whole. The clerks who had been ordered to bury the dog refused to do it, claiming he deserved better. Instead of being buried, only was preserved, and his remains are on display to this day at the Smithsonian National Postal Museum in Washington, d C. It's a fitting tribute for a dog who managed to turn a famous stereotype on its head. Rather than chasing the mailman, Owny became one. Now that's what i'd call a good boy. 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.