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by
Paul B. Morgan
Author, K-9 Soldiers, Vietnam and After
and The Parrot's Beak
"You made your bed and now you have to lie in
it!" Those were the consoling words from my dear mother in a letter
when I complained to her that joining the US Army had been a big mistake
on my part. I joined for Fun, Travel and Adventure but found I was
bored to death after the excitement of basic and advanced infantry
training at Fort Benning, Georgia, HOME OF THE INFANTRY, Airborne,
Ranger and Pathfinder Training.
Then I met a dog named Bear at the Infantry School's dog committee. He
was a nasty old cuss, a veteran of the Korean War. He ran like a deer,
crashed into his targets like a football tackle and got you very dirty
very quickly. I was awaiting jump school orders when I met him. It was one
of my boring duties to clean out the dog cages each day, watering and
feeding these War Dogs, America's Forgotten Heroes.
My boredom suddenly disappeared as we worked together in K-9
demonstrations, where I would handle him on patrol one day and be a target
for a take down the next.
I felt stupid for volunteering for military duty for most of the guys in
my platoon were draftees with two year hitches. I faced three years
active duty and thought I had been duped by the recruiters with that Fun,
Travel and Adventure propaganda. Somehow Bear changed all that!
I don't know what is was about that dog I liked, but going to work every
day as a dog handler seemed like a lot of fun. And it was
adventurous too for you never quite knew what Bear was going to do to you
on the job. I learned all about scouting and patrolling, being a point
man, out in front on a patrol. Bear would drag me through brush, down into
ravines, across chest deep freezing water and all that  fun stuff. He
turned me into a lean, mean fighting machine. Jump school and ranger
school were tough courses but after running with the Bear I was ready for
any physical challenge. (Photo of the author by U.S. Army,
1969 / K-9
Soldiers)
Dogs can hear 200 times better than any human and they can detect movement
very quickly. They can hear trip wires blowing in the wind, smell the bad
guys hundreds of yards away and if you follow their signals, you'll
survive in combat. My sergeant told me long ago, "Teams survive,
individuals dont't!" I survived two years in Vietnam thanks to war
dogs.
I was glad I had taken all that tough training when I was a young soldier.
It paid off many years later, not only in Vietnam, but also in New York
City. My endurance was gone, my lean, mean fighting machine of a body was
gone, but the positive attitude and the confidence you gain after working
as a dog handler and the leadership skills you develop walking out front
were still in place when September 11th, 2001 came along.
My camouflage battle dress uniform was in the closet so I put it on and
headed for ground zero with my golden retriever, Cody Bear. Mayor Guiliani
had warned the public, "Uniforms Only! No Gawkers Allowed!" I
called my Marine buddy, Hal Wilson, who had been with the 9th Marines in
Vietnam while I was in-country with an airborne unit in 1969-1970.
"Hal, get your BDU's and dog and meet me at the train! Let's
Roll!" "Aye, Aye, Skipper!" he responded.
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The next morning we were on the way into the "pile", riding the
train into Penn Station with our dogs, Cody and Sue. We had to walk it
from there two miles down to ground zero past one roadblock after another.
There must have been hundreds of people on the street, perhaps thousands,
but the silence was deafening, no cars, no trucks, just people pressing
against police barricades, trying to get closer to the columns of black
smoke at the south end of Manhattan.
In camouflage battle dress we passed each roadblock, directed by NYPD
officers to West Street and Ground Zero. On the way in, a news reporter
stopped Hal and me asking, "Give me three reasons why are you doing
this?" Hal had that angry look and that thousand meter stare combat
veterans display after too much time on the line. I told the reporter,
"Duty, Honor, Country!" and he left us alone.
What we did at ground zero, finding the remains of three fire fighters,
seemed like a routine mission for us. We had done this before searching
for wounded and missing soldiers left behind in a fire fight, recovering
dead pilots from the charred hulks of their downed aircraft in Vietnam.
Our WTC experience was published in dogsinthenews.com in a September 24th
posting, Letter from a World Trade Center Rescuer and His Dog.
To be honest with you, we're embarrassed by all the thank you notes and
emails we have received.
I had made a career out of K-9 work in the US Army and afterwards in a K-9
Security business. I wrote about it in two books, K-9 Soldiers, Vietnam
and After and The Parrot's Beak, stories about the
unconditional love war dogs provide in combat, bringing that touch of home
to the battlefield.
So why would anybody like a job like this? I can only answer, Duty, Honor
and Country.
Paul B. Morgan
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Editor's Note: This piece is a
guest article written by a man who caught our attention last
September with
"Letter from a World Trade Center Rescuer and his Dog".
As we enter a new age of war where,
more than ever, canines are used to secure the home front and the
battlefield, it's good to be reminded of those thousands of
four-footed
soldiers who never got the honor they deserved. Paul B.
Morgan and Cody Bear are currently on tour doing just that. As
he told me yesterday:
"I only wish the War Dogs got the credit for the work they did in
World War II, Korea and Vietnam. They saved countless thousands of
lives and got the needle when the wars were over."
Don't
miss seeing Paul & Cody in person at the 2002
Mardi Paws Parade outside New Orleans on
Feb. 11, 2002. You may also contact them directly to
share your support, thoughts & questions at:
Paul B. Morgan
Major, US Army (ret)
K9Soldiers@aol.com
§§§
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