In the coldest French winter on record, a fifteen-pound mutt, it’s wiry, unkempt hair grayish in color, searched trashcans for food and sought out coal bins for shelter. On a regular basis the small dog was cursed by shopkeepers and constantly driven away from their businesses. He was certainly chased by dogcatchers and probably kicked by pedestrians. The mongrel rarely felt the touch of a friendly human hand. As winter gave way to spring and the nameless tiny dog avoided the machinery of war clogging the narrow Paris streets, he continued his personal battle to survive. Yet as food became scarcer, the odds of survival grew slimmer with each passing day. By summer the flea-covered mutt was little more than skin and bones.
A year into the war, Private Donovan had impressed his superiors enough to be raised in rank and chosen to represent the US military in a July 14, 1918, Bastille Day parade in Paris. This assignment provided a welcome break from dodging gas and bullets and a chance to finally see the City of Light. When the festivities concluded, Donovan and Sergeant George Hickman opted to stay in Paris for a few more hours. After viewing a few of the sights, they headed to a café. While eating a welcome hot meal and enjoying the live music, they lost track of the hour. By the time they walked out of the café, it was hours past the time they were to report to their units. Compounding the serious problem of being AWOL was that darkness now hid all the city’s landmarks so they had no idea what direction would take them “home.”
While walking through an alley, the soldiers saw what appeared to be a small pile of rags. As they strolled by, it moved. Stopping and leaning in closer, Donovan carefully studied what he quickly discovered was a pitiful gray, white, and taffy colored dog. While it showed no fear, it also didn’t eagerly greet the men. Instead it remained cautious as if reading their body language.
Donovan was still holding a piece of pastry and in an act of compassion offered it to the dog. The mutt quickly gobbled it down and then shifted his focus back to the men as if watching to see if any other treats would follow. With nothing more to share, the American soldiers turned and continued their now anxious search for something that could guide them back to their unit.
The brutality of the Great War made desertion a major problem. The military police regularly patrolled Paris and the surrounding areas to uncover soldiers who’d grown so weary or so frightened they had walked away from their posts. On that long-ago summer night it was an MP who discovered Donovan and Hickman. In an accusing voice he demanded to know why they were in the city. He was not impressed with their explanation and pointed out that other Americans who had marched in the parade had returned to their units hours before. Donovan admitted that while they had stretched their adventure out a bit, neither was a deserter. They were just lost.
The MP cautiously eyed the pair for several moments before noting the ragged dog sitting a few feet behind them. After studying the hapless creature, the military policeman asked Donovan if the mutt could verify their story. It was at that moment the soldiers told their first fib and in the process literally set in course a partnership that would save the lives of hundreds if not thousands of American soldiers.
“Rags is the 7th Field Artillery mascot,” Donovan explained, “and we’re escorting him home.”
“Fine,” the MP answered. “I’m a dog lover myself. And to make sure Rags makes it back to the unit I’ll lead you there.”
In an attempt to keep their escort happy, over the course of the next few miles Donovan and Hickman took turns holding the dog they had just christened Rags. They also no doubt embellished the story of what the mutt meant to the unit. The ploy worked as the canine refugee literally saved the men extra duty and a reduction in rank. It would not be the last time Rags pulled Donovan’s tail out of the fire.
For the next few days the 7th remained well behind front lines so Donovan had plenty of spare time to get to know his new canine friend. Though still not eager to be petted or coddled, the dog recognized Donovan as a meal ticket. Because he continued getting a share of the soldier’s rations, Rags became the American’s shadow. When division headquarters was moved to the front, Rags followed Donovan step for step. As he got his first taste of war, the dog dodged fire while accompanying his human friend stringing new communication lines between the 26th Infantry and the 7th Artillery. When those lines were knocked out by enemy artillery fire, which happened several times, Rags and Donovan then went out to fix them.
After a week of combat action and a number of close calls with death, Donovan had grown to love Rags to the extent that his concern over the dog’s welfare was stealing his focus on his job. Thus, when he had a few hours off, Donovan walked his four-footed companion several miles back to headquarters. Once there, he convinced another soldier to feed and care for the animal, then, after sharing a final treat and rubbing the little dog’s head, he headed back to the front lines.
Over the next couple of days Donovan grieved. He also found that not having Rags with him as he went about his dangerous assignments actually made him more apprehensive. At night, as he counted his blessings for surviving another day at the front, the loneliness was even more profound. Donovan wasn’t the only one wishing the dog was still around. Others in the 7th missed Rags almost as much. Thus, conversations often turned to the mutt and many involved his questionable lineage. Some pointed to the ears and tail and suggested there was some French poodle in the canine’s family tree, while others felt the head was all terrier. Certainly the character Rags had displayed was much more ingrained in the latter rather than the former. A few even suggested they had seen a bit of Scotty in the dog. Yet Donovan and his friends would soon discover that there must have been a bit of homing pigeon in Rags as well. One afternoon, when he was stringing wire in no man’s land, the soldier looked around and saw Rags coming up the hill. It appeared the dog cared much more about the love of a man than the fear of death.
Now realizing Rags had made his choice and would be his for the duration, Donovan opted to educate the dog to perform like a real mascot. This worthy goal proved to be an exercise in futility. Donovan spent hours trying to teach Rags tricks. The dog had no interest in sitting, barking on command, playing dead, or fetching. The fact that he wouldn’t learn put the dog’s position with the unit in peril. Most commanding officers didn’t like dogs on the front and this was doubly true for dogs that appeared as if they were nothing more than moochers. Thus, Rags was walking on thin ice and Donovan had to find a way to prove the dog’s usefulness to the 7th or be ordered to get rid of him. The way he accomplished this was nothing short of a miracle.
Over the next few weeks Donovan began to note the curious mutt’s focus on the act of writing on paper. It was as if he was trying to figure out why this was so important. To capitalize on this interest, Donovan began to jot down meaningless notes, put them into Rags’s mouth and jog back to headquarters. As the dog shadowed the man’s every step, he always followed. Sensing it was time to take it a step further, the soldier wrote a quick note and placed it into the dog’s mouth and pointed toward headquarters. With no other direction, Rags immediately headed off down the road. Within a week Rags had even learned to also bring a note back to Donovan from command.
A few days later, when shellfire took down a communication wire and it was too dangerous to send a human runner back to the artillery headquarters with location information on enemy positions, Donovan wrote a note and gave it to Rags. The dog rushed back to command with the information and American fire was immediately redirected to take out the enemy. From that day forward the 7th Artillery had a messenger that was so small he could move almost unnoticed through enemy fire. Best of all, Rags’s focus was so unwavering that he never failed to complete an assignment. Now he was no longer a mascot; he was a soldier.
During the Battle of Laversine, Donovan was given an assignment too dangerous to have Rags with him. On this day a soldier named Welch was given the important task of watching out for the unit’s messenger. Welch, a man who deeply missed his own dog back in the
States, had for weeks been spoiling Rags with treats. Because of this, Rags treated the soldier with almost as much affection as he did Donovan. Their day together was going well until the Germans redirected their artillery fire. An unexpected wave of shells struck the area where Welch and other members of the 7th were resting. When the first explosion hit, Rags was blown clear and only momentarily dazed, but Welch was badly injured. Rather than running away from danger, as natural instinct demanded, the dog worked his way through a series of tunnels to the incapacitated soldier. When the man didn’t move, Rags went into action. Dodging shells, the dog emerged from the trench and raced back to headquarters. Those who greeted him expected a note so when there was none they ignored him. Yet Rags wouldn’t give up. He continued to badger the men, tugging at pant legs and yipping until two perplexed soldiers followed him back to Welch. A call for medics was immediately sent out, and with the concerned dog watching, the badly injured man’s wounds were treated. The soldier was then transported back to the field hospital.
There is no history about what happened to Welch. With no first name or rank, the man’s fate has been lost to history. Legend has it Rags’s action saved the man’s life, but there is no clear record proving that. What is known is that on that brutal day a dog learned two new skills. The first was being able to identify a wounded man and realize he needed help. The other was understanding who provided that help. The next time a man in the 7th was hit by fire, Rags went directly to a medic. For the remainder of the war the dog would guide dozens of medical crewmen to wounded soldiers.
Rags was not a dog who relished downtime. When Donovan wasn’t busy, the mutt grew bored. During these times he would wander around looking for action. On a hot day in late summer the dog jumped out of a trench and in spite of desperate calls urging him to come back, Rags wandered along the Paris-Soissons road into what was known as no-man’s-land. With enemy shells falling all around and poisonous gas creeping along the ground, the dog discovered a dead American soldier. Remembering the lesson that every piece of paper was important, Rags noted a folded letter in the fallen man’s hand. Pulling it out, he returned the note to Donovan.
A young lieutenant had written this note and given it to the now-dead messenger to take to headquarters. “I have forty-two men, mixed, healthy and wounded. We have advanced to the road but can go no farther. Most of the men are from the 26th Infantry. I am the only officer. Machine guns at our rear, front, right, and left. Send infantry officer to take command. I need machine gun ammunition.”
The lieutenant and his men would have died without Rags sensing a piece of paper was so vital. With the 7th alerted, an artillery barrage was initiated and a rescue unit was sent out. Within an hour the men were saved and Rags was hailed as a hero.
After the Second Battle of the Marne, Donovan was given some time away from the front lines. During those days of rest and relaxation, the soldier made a small gas mask for Rags and finally taught the mutt his first and only trick. When an officer approached, Rags automatically stood on his hind legs and lifted his right front paw over his eyes in a salute. The first man to note the gesture was Major General Charles P. Summerall. The commanding officer of the 1st Division had a reputation of being the most demanding general in Europe and not someone who saw a need for mascot dogs on the front. Yet when he noted Rags saluting, Summerall remarked that perhaps this mutt could teach the whole division something about respect.
With a general’s approval, Rags had the run of the camps and took full advantage of his newfound celebrity. In mess halls he quickly learned a few salutes always led to a reward of food and along the streets those salutes brought him praise and plenty of petting. For almost a week he was treated as if he was the king of the hill, but then he had the misfortune of running into a cat. As expected, Rags snapped at the beast before chasing him through the camp and up a tree. The owner of the feline, Colonel Theodore Roosevelt Jr., was not amused even when Rags saluted as he approached. The dog might have been drummed out of service if not for the fact that Donovan’s leave was over. Hence, a trip back to the front likely saved Rags’s hide.
Once again in the midst of battle, Rags spent most of his days with his muzzle covered by a gas mask. Perhaps this was the reason he grew to depend more upon his ears than his nose. Over the course of that week the dog learned to judge the whistles of incoming artillery shells and somehow sense where they would land. When he realized an explosive was headed his way, he jumped into a trench, fell flat on his belly with legs outstretched, and remained perfectly still. The first time Rags did this the soldiers were confused. The second time they mimicked the dog’s response and scrambled into holes for protection. This skill, for which he had not been trained but was instead adapting due to combat, would lead to Rags saving scores of lives over the course of the rest of the war.
The next thing Rags learned through observation made Donovan’s job much easier. The soldier spent hours checking phone wires to see which were good and which had been broken or cut. Through observation, Rags somehow realized what his master was doing and began to alert Donovan to which lines were broken even before the man could test them. It seemed the dog could hear the vibration of the wires that were transmitting while also noting the ones that were silent. This unique skill, displayed by no other dog during the war, allowed Donovan to work more efficiently and thus get communication lines back into operation much more quickly. In the end, this also meant Rags was actually a part of changing the course of the war.
One of the dog’s most interesting experiences happened when a crew from an observation balloon set down in a meadow where Donovan was working. As the men talked, Rags jumped into the basket and went to sleep. When the sounds of battle suddenly filled the air, the air scouts scrambled back into the balloon and lifted off. They were more than a thousand feet in the air when one of the men noticed the still-sleeping dog.
As the soldiers studied enemy troop movements and identified artillery placements, Rags remained calm. Yet when a German plane emerged from the clouds and began shooting, he began to howl. The men tried to ward off the Fokker with their own guns, but it did little good. On the pilot’s second pass the balloon was shredded by fire. One of the men scooped up Rags and crawled over the edge of the basket. After taking a deep breath and glancing down at the ground, he pushed out into the air. A second later he pulled the cord on his parachute. As the canopy opened, the rapid plunge to earth slowed, but the danger grew even more pronounced. The German plane was still firing at the drifting soldiers and their chutes were also drawing ground fire. With bullets passing on every side and Rags barking each time the Fokker grew close, the air scout somehow held on to the dog and made the trip to the ground unharmed. As the man released the harness, Rags hurried across the meadow and back to where he’d last seen his master. Donovan, who had witnessed the entire episode, urged the dog through a barrage of fire to his side. Reunited, they sought cover.
When the action lessoned, Donovan discovered that the officer in charge of his unit had been killed. Taking command over a handful of tired and scared soldiers, the communication technician led the remaining men to the front where they took part in the battle. This heroic action would pave the way for Donovan to be advanced in rank to sergeant.
In September, with the Germans retreating from St. Michel, the American forces found themselves face-to-face with the enemy. In trenches and on hillsides guns often gave way to hand-to-hand combat. This continued for four days. When Donovan crawled out of trenches to exchange blows with German soldiers, Rags jumped out and chewed at the enemy’s hands or feet. The tag team of dog and man resulted in dozens of Germans being killed or taken prisoner and on each occasion Rags and Donovan escaped with only bruises. Donovan was sure it was the distraction created by the dog that saved his life.
During the final American campaign of the war, at the Meuse-Argonne, Donovan was taken out of a combat role and once more put in charge of keeping the communication lines open between the 26th In
fantry and 7th Field Artillery. The fighting was fierce and lines were often cut. When the phones went down, Donovan scribbled down messages on enemy positions and Rags raced back through fire to take these important communications to headquarters. One of the notes that got through changed the course of the battle.
From C.O. 1st Bn. 26th Infantry, Oct. 2 - 12:30 To Captain Thomas, Intelligence Officer: Have artillery that is firing in small, oblong-shaped woods, directly in front and on right of first objective, lengthen range and pound hell out of the woods. Machine gun nests are located there. Legge, Cdg.
Within minutes of Rags’s arrival, the nests were knocked out and the men advanced. The dog was then sent back with the message for Donovan to get the phone communications lines restored.
A week later, in the Argonne Forest, a heavy fog filled the air. As the 26th Infantry waited for a German attack, the phone lines went down and lethal mustard gas drifted in the air. Donovan, working on finding a line break, failed to get his gas mask before his lungs filled with the poisonous fumes. Struggling to breathe, he hurriedly scribbled his observations of enemy movements, put a gas mask over Rags’s nose and eyes, and gave the mutt the note. He then ordered the dog back to headquarters. Initially Rags was unwilling to leave his badly injured master, but a determined Donovan pushed him out of the trench and into fire. Now running for his life, Rags headed toward the 7th’s command position. Dodging bullets, the dog would alternate running as fast as his short legs could carry him and then dropping onto his belly to wait out artillery fire. The journey, though only a few miles, took hours. Rags was almost to command when a fragment from an exploding shell ripped into his foot, ear, and eye. Now blinded in one eye and likely unable to hear, the dog rolled over and limped forward. A second artillery shell exploded several yards to his left again knocking him off his feet. This time when he rose Rags looked dazed. Witnesses described him as slowly wobbling forward a dozen more feet before falling into a trench. A soldier who had anxiously observed the dog’s flight for life rushed to his side and found the note. As others gathered, Rags’s wounds were treated while Donovan’s message was taken to headquarters.
In the Line of Fire Page 4
