(**Note: I apologize for the hiatus since my last article. If you look back at my pre-invasion article on Ukraine, you will note it has unfolded rather as I suggested. It is still Putin’s *massive mistake.* I have been speaking on this subject and researching for a possible book ever since. But I promise I will never miss a Memorial Day or Veterans Day missive. I began on 9/11 and will not stop! On to this year’s Veterans Day offering….)
The heroes below have stood by us in every war of this and the last century. Warning us of enemies approaching, leading men into battle, discerning toxic gases in time to alert us, carrying the wounded back to friendly lines while under fire, and so much more. Here are just three of their stories. There are many, many more.
Captain was one of the members of the Croix-Rouge française (France’s Red Cross) who, in WW1, would crawl over the trenches to find wounded men, even in the dark or the foulest fog. He would then return to friendly lines and lead medics and others to bring these men back to safety. He is credited with hundreds of lives saved, with over 30 in just one night.
The American, Chips, during the fight for North Africa during WW2, attacked a German pillbox that was delivering withering machine gun fire at the American troops. Chips dove straight through the pillbox opening, assaulting and capturing all four of the men within. Later that same day he alerted his teammates to the approach of a German infantry squad, allowing them to capture ten more of the enemy. All in a day’s work.
In Vietnam, “Satan” had more acute senses than any of his teammates in the entire 173rd Airborne Brigade. He located a sniper in a tree without seeing him, found more than one VC tunnel complex, and always walked point because he was the very best at finding the thin monofilament trip wires that set off the booby traps.
These heroes are with us still. In Iraq, Afghanistan, and elsewhere today. Not one of them was a soldier in unform, but they saved tens of thousands of such soldiers. Those above, and so many more, were and are military working dogs. It is no exaggeration to say there might well be 10,000 more names on The Wall (the Vietnam Veterans Memorial) if not for these brave comrades who fought and died alongside other veterans, wanting only the approval and affection of their handlers and those they came to know.
Humans have some five or six million olfactory receptors. This allows us the ability to detect certain substances in dilutions of less than one part in several billion parts of air. Imagine how much more attuned is a dog which, depending on the breed, has at least 200 million such receptors and often many more. They can be trained to bark or not bark, to listen for a verbal command or to follow a hand gesture. They will go anywhere and do any task that is asked of them.
In Vietnam, they were scout dogs walking point to find and silently alert when finding booby traps, land mines, underground complexes, caches of weapons, and even the scent of the enemy. Others were sentry dogs, defending aircraft, supply depots, defensive perimeters, and other facilities. These dogs and their handlers were the trip wires guarding American base camps 24/7. Still others were tunnel dogs, specialists in sniffing out the location of tunnels and mines. Others were the experts among all breeds for tracking the enemy’s scent or blood trails. There were even riverine patrol dogs trained to sniff out the breath scent of enemies underwater breathing through reeds or snorkels.
These veterans did not receive hazardous duty pay. They did not receive jump pay. They received no official recognition or commendation, and no pay at all except for the gratitude of every Vietnam veteran who came home alive thanks to them.
How did we reward these stalwart citizens, these paragons who never complained, these troopers that were always ready for the fight?
In Vietnam, we left them behind.
They were considered, in the words of someone far in the rear, “expendable equipment.” Expendable equipment: like ammunition, paint, fuel, cleaning materials, and spare parts. All those and more were left behind in our hurry to leave. As were more than 4,500 working dogs. They were judged just too much trouble to save.
Most Vietnamese had little use for dogs. Worse, they were so hated by the enemy it is likely they would have been shot on sight or tortured, then shot. Even fading into the jungle, the jungle itself would devour them.
It took 25 years, the unceasing outcry from concerned citizens and the efforts of veteran dog handlers, including one paired with “Robby,” until finally “Robby’s Law,” was enacted in 2000. It required that all military working dogs suitable for adoption be available for placement after their service. It was too late to save Robby.
Together we served. Together we sometimes died. They were our friends, our teammates, our confessors who would listen to things we would not say to our teammates. Sometimes, they were just there for a friendly pet that became a healing touch for the soldiers around them, as well.
Is someone who saved your life worth creating a little space for under your cargo seat when you come back to The World? Veterans resoundingly say “yes.” Veterans are also cognizant of the resentment it may cause among those anxious to escape when we leave. They see space aboard a crowded aircraft for a dog while they wait on the tarmac.
We can do both. We have not always done so, as recently as Afghanistan, where our working dogs were evacuated. Our hasty retreat, however, left many Afghans who aided our efforts still on the tarmac. While our government fails to act, there are a number of non-profit, non-government organizations still getting our Afghan teammates out, one family at a time.
Veterans are deeply torn when they see any member of the team left behind. “We got our boys out” is what the politicians say as they move on to the next fundraiser. “It is not enough” is what veterans say back. PTSD is not only from combat itself. Too often it is the pain we see among the common people we have gone to aid or because we abandoned those who trusted us. All those who shared our chow, slept on the ground beside us, or took a bullet for us need to be rescued.
No veteran is expendable.
© Joseph L. Shaefer, 2022
In all humility, thank you. I just write about what I believe are things that count and need to be said.
Joe, this is beautifully said. Thank you for your candor and your deep soul. Erin