“What a dog!” the officer exclaimed.
Burnam nodded, still not grasping what all the fuss was about. As the smiling lieutenant rose, the dog handler was enlightened. “I don’t now how he did it, but your dog spotted scores of trip wires. Every time he turned I had my men check the spot Clipper avoided. There were explosives at each location. We marked them so crews could come back to get rid of them. In other words, you and your dog saved my platoon! Who knows how many of us would have died today without that German shepherd. And how many more would have died down the road if those devices had not been spotted.”
Burnam glanced around at the soldiers who were safe but wouldn’t have been without Clipper. As he studied the smiling faces of men whose names he didn’t know, he shook his head. How had his dog smelled the booby traps? Had Clipper heard the singing of the wind on the wires? Had he seen them? The handler would never be sure of the answer, but he was completely convinced the dog had done what no man or machine could.
That night Burnam promised Clipper he would always take care of him. He also assured his partner that he would never forget what the dog had done for him and those who served the United States. Yet on March 14, 1968, that first promise was broken. Burnam’s tour of duty was up, and even a soldier who had earned the Purple Heart, Bronze Star, and Legion of Merit medals didn’t have the pull to keep the dog that, in the man’s mind, had served even more heroically than any soldier in Southeast Asia. Clipper was destined to be given to another handler and another and another and would be worked until he could work no more. Then rather than be retired, Clipper was ticketed to be euthanized. To the US Army the German shepherd was just another piece of equipment.
As the airplane was waiting to take him home, Sergeant John Burnam tried to find a way to say goodbye to the best friend he’d ever known. With tears filling his eyes and words choking in his throat, he whispered how much he loved Clipper. Then with the dog watching, the soldier hurried away. He would never again see the German shepherd or ever find out what eventually happened to the canine hero.
While Burnam could not keep his promise to always take care of Clipper, he spent decades constructing a plan to fully present to the world the value of the dogs that worked as soldiers in Vietnam. He wrote a book, Canine Warrior, telling the often graphic but amazing tales of the dogs of that Southeast Asian war. His book rallied other handlers to step forward and share their stories. Burnam also pushed for legislation to build a monument to the dogs that served in all American wars. On October 28, 2013, The National Monument to US Military Working Dog Teams was dedicated at Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio, Texas. On that day when Burnam was recognized for all his dedication to this cause, tears filled his eyes, not because the monument he had worked decades to build had become a reality, but because he felt he had finally and properly honored the best friend he had ever known. He wasn’t able to fulfill his promise to always take care of Clipper, but he certainly made sure the dog and his service were not forgotten. In that way, Burnam did bring his best friend home from Vietnam.
TWELVE
DUTY
Duty, Honor, Country. Those three hallowed words reverently dictate what you ought to be, what you can be, what you will be.
—Douglas MacArthur
The twenty-first century has seen mind-boggling advances in the technology of warfare. As surveillance tools, drones now have replaced the manned blimps used in World War I and the planes employed in later wars. Drones have also sometimes substituted for soldiers as snipers and planes as bombers. Computers have taken the guesswork out of long-range shelling, and cell phones have superseded walkie-talkies, radio communication, and messenger dogs on the front lines. Yet at a time when mechanical marvels have brought a new age to warfare, canines have actually seen their roles advance rather than diminish. It is the war against terror that has fully shown the real significance and value of military dogs. As their potential has become more fully appreciated, the training of these canine soldiers has also become more intensive, elaborate, and defined. As a part of this new emphasis on military dogs the extraordinary has in many ways become the ordinary and what once required the canine to adapt on the battlefield is now another part of the canine curriculum.
As the roles of dogs have been developed, refined, and even redefined, the number of different breeds used by the military has increased. In that way, the dogs you now see in combat have a great deal more in common with their ancestors who distinguished themselves in World War I than they do with the canines found on the front lines of World War II, Korea, or Vietnam. During those latter wars it was German shepherds and Dobermans that made up the majority of the military canine units. But now, depending upon the nature of the job, there are dogs of all shapes and sizes serving in combat situations. One of the most honored animals of this century is from a line of dogs that few would have even considered worthy of military duties just a generation ago. Buster is therefore an unexpected hero who has made the extraordinary look routine.
Britain’s Ministry of Defence Dog Unit has long been renown in its ability to train canines for combat situations. This intensive and evolving school has become even more important in the twenty-first century. As warfare has shifted from nations battling nations along well-defined fronts to small bands of terrorists striking quickly and then disappearing into the smoke, the skills needed by dogs have also expanded. Dogs no longer serve as just trackers or sentries; canine soldiers are now needed for everything from vehicle search to explosive detection. As they have honed their skills, these “sniffer” dogs have likely saved as many lives as any modern military tool. And one of the most famous and successful of all these explosive detective experts is an English springer spaniel trained by the Defence Dog Unit.
As the name would suggest, the English springer spaniel first appeared in the British Isles. Developed as a specialty tool for hunters, the springer was bred to find and flush game birds. Therefore it is hardly surprising the breed exhibits the perfect combination of smell, sight, and hearing needed for that task. Considered an average-sized dog, rarely do members of the breed reach fifty pounds or stand more than a foot and a half at the shoulders. Springers have drooping floppy ears, a medium coat, and long nose, and by nature are excitable, affectionate, outgoing, and highly energetic. It is their boundless energy and ability to scan the landscape that has made them one of England’s most famous sporting dogs. Those qualities have also led to the breed being the perfect fit to fight a new kind of war.
Long before most nations were confronted by terrorism, the Irish Republican Army (IRA) was honing this new type of warfare. Planting and using explosives to hit government installations and military bases became the IRA’s most effective tool. These acts of terrorism didn’t require a lot of men, were incredibly hard to detect, and were almost impossible to prevent. They also filled the English and Irish civilian population with great fear and placed immense pressure on the UK’s leadership to give in to the group’s demands for complete independence.
As the English military upgraded their equipment and worked on developing new technology to fight terrorism, those at the top also looked beyond the latest weapons to the humble dog. Though a wide variety of breeds were examined, the Defence Dog Unit closely studied and evaluated a dog not normally considered for anything but hunting. As an experiment, several of the English springer spaniels were purchased from breeders and planted into schools alongside German shepherds, Dobermans, and Labrador retrievers. Dog handlers quickly discovered that the English breed’s instinctive ability to hunt and spot birds translated well when it came to finding hidden explosives and weapons. After six months of extensive training, where the dogs learned all the various smells associated with bombs, the spaniels went to work in Ireland. Over the next few years the breed’s unique ability to identify targets before they inflicted damage and caused loss of life helped to significantly reduce the power of the IRA to terrorize the population.
Not long after Americans
were awakened to the power of terrorism with the attack on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, a one-year-old English springer spaniel was sent for a six-month intensive training in hopes that he would graduate a sniffer dog. Upon completing the course, Buster and his handler, Corporal Nick Lyons, were assigned to duty in Bosnia-Herzegovina. This Eastern European region had been a hotbed for ethnic rivalry since the fall of the USSR. And though the war that had required the United Nations to come in and broker peace was now over, terrorism remained a problem. Buster served the Royal Air Force (RAF) well by detecting explosives hidden in packages, vehicles, and buildings. After two tours of duty Buster and Lyons were honored for achieving a perfect record. Yet, during this stretch of duty the pressures of a war had not really fully tested the intelligent canine. So his ability to perform while under fire was an unknown.
With the war in Afghanistan bogged down and British morale on the front lines and at home sinking lower each day, the Taliban was using terrorism to keep forces from the United Nations off-balance. With suicide bombs, road-implanted explosives, snipers, and quick-hitting attacks, the rogues of the desert were creating problems the likes of which the modern military machine could not fully combat. So the RAF turned to a tactic that helped subdue and neutralize the IRA: canine soldiers. Many of the dogs sent to this rugged desert environment did not perform well in the heat. They tired quickly, and as fatigue set in, they often lost focus. This led to explosives not being detected, loss of life, and falling confidence in working dogs from those who had placed their lives in his or her abilities. Like the words found in a classic hit song, what the British canine units needed most was a hero.
Police Flight Sergeant Will Barrow had been working with dogs since entering the RAF just after graduating from high school. Thus it was hardly surprising that Barrow was notified he would soon be assigned to Afghanistan to help reverse this trend of dogs failing to fully identify the explosives used by the Taliban. Before being shipped to Afghanistan, the RAF assigned Barrow to find a dog that was up to saving lives. As Barrow observed and evaluated recent Dog Defence graduates, he called his good friend Nick Lyons and inquired if the handler knew of any canine possessing the extraordinary skills needed in this new kind of war. The conversation that followed would be the first step in saving more than a thousand lives.
Handlers are very possessive of their dogs. Once they find the right partners, they won’t give them up. So Lyons looked upon Buster as more than a piece of military equipment; he saw the springer as a member of the family. Lyons and his “best mate” were then serving on the HMS Caledonia and stationed at the naval base at Rosyth, England. It was such routine work that Buster had grown a bit bored. Just like career military men, the dog needed action. Putting his loyalty to country over his personal feelings, Lyons told Barrow about Buster and suggested the sergeant drive to Rosyth to meet the dog. The six-hour trip proved Lyons was a very good judge of dog potential. Barrow immediately discovered that with the work harness on Buster was diligent, devoted, intelligent, and focused. When the harness was removed, the springer was outgoing and playful. In other words, he was more than just a great field dog; he was a true friend.
As Barrow noted the deep bond forged between Lyons and the springer, he felt as if he was watching Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers dance. They knew each other that well, moved as one, and had complete faith in their combined abilities. So the question became, no matter how good Buster was, did Barrow have the right to break up what seemed like the perfect teaming of dog and handler? And, perhaps even more important, could Barrow forge that same kind of relationship—one that would be essential on the battlefield?
And then there was the breed. In the past Barrow had worked with German shepherds, so adopting the springer as a partner was not as natural as it might have been for other men. Yet as he spent time with Buster, putting the canine through a host of drills and exercises, Barrow came to realize that Lyons’s assessment was spot on. This dog was a remarkable soldier and also an animal blessed with great character. If Buster could perform on the hot Afghan sand as well as he did on the cool grass of his native land, many lives would be saved. Yet even as he made the final assessment that Buster might just be the dog the RAF needed, Barrow felt guilty about separating the two friends. Thankfully it was Lyons who insisted that Buster needed the challenge and that the men in combat had a far greater use for the dog than he did.
In order to forge a bond and enlarge Buster’s skills, Barrow spent the next several months training the dog to be fully prepared for the dynamic needs of their assignment in Afghanistan. This required the two to be together around the clock. As the weeks passed the man often found himself in awe of Buster’s ability to discover weapons hidden in trucks and buildings. More important, the dog also could spot the latest and most dangerous killing machine used by the Taliban: the improvised explosive device.
IEDs were wounding and killing thousands of men in Iraq and Afghanistan. Easy to construct and hide, this new version of the land mine was now the most feared weapon of the war. It blew trucks apart, took tanks out of commission, and, when set off, meant almost sure death for any soldier who accidentally stepped on one. On top of that, IEDs did more than just gum up the war for the military; they were also killing civilians on a daily basis.
In previous wars, metal detectors were the most effective way of locating buried explosives. But the IED often evaded the machine’s detection until the soldier manning the unit had literally stepped on the trigger. Therefore the RAF had turned to dogs to search for the deadly explosive devices. The canines proved much more effective than metal detectors but there were so many IEDs buried in war zones that even the trained canines still missed many of them. Thus, dogs often died simply because they stepped on an explosive they didn’t identify, and in most cases the handler dearly paid for the sniffer’s mistake.
In training, Buster never failed. No matter the type of material used in the IED, he was able to spot the weapon, point to its location, and hold his position until humans verified the existence of the device. Doing this in England was one thing—after all, these IEDs were not going to blow up—but could Buster perform the same job while dodging bullets?
In September 2007, after Barrow was convinced the dog was ready, the team was flown to the warzone. If Buster failed just once it was likely that some of the men around Barrow were going to die. The pressure of knowing this put the weight of the world on the sergeant’s shoulders. Yet even in these new and strange surroundings, even with the noise of distant gunfire, the roar of airplanes, and noise of trucks, Buster was calm and relaxed. It was almost as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
All combat dogs wear a blanket or vest that identifies their unit. As Buster was led from the truck for his first assignment in the hot Afghan sands, Barrow pulled a vest from his backpack and positioned it on the canine’s back. Rather than being a bright shade of red, green, or yellow, Buster’s was black. Barrow had been told that killing a good sniffer dog was more important to terrorists than taking down a dozen men. Thus, the sergeant’s reasoning in choosing the ominous color was to prevent the springer from being an easy target for snipers.
The first night out, Buster was assigned to study a route often used by Taliban rebels. Because IEDs were so unpredictable and it was so easy to hide them in the sand, even a routine daylight patrol was filled with tension. At night nerves were stretched far tighter, but if Buster felt the tension, he didn’t show it. A dozen sets of eyes watched the newest canine jog along the road. Barrow was almost sick with apprehension. This was a far different world than the training field. One wrong step in England meant the dog had failed a test and would not be given a treat. A wrong step here would be fatal.
As the dog padded along on a now-cooling sandy road, he held himself with an almost military bearing. His movement was sharp and crisp, his bobbed tail stood at attention, and his expression relaxed but stern. He was every bit as much a soldier as his human counterparts a
nd at this moment much more exposed. As men huddled in the shadows, a completely focused Buster methodically checked the road. Then, without notice, he stopped and his back legs began to almost dance in place. Barrow fully understood the dog’s body language; he’d found an IED. At that moment Buster was called back and the bomb crew went to work. On his first mission the sniffer had uncovered an IED that would have literally blown a truck in half. Amazingly it was so well buried it likely would not have been spotted by most soldiers in daylight, and at night no man would have known of its placement until it was too late. If this was the only explosive Buster ever discovered, he was already an MVP to a half dozen Brits.
Over the course of the next few weeks Buster found scores of IEDs. For a dog trained for this purpose that was not remarkable. After all, several dogs had identified that many during similar periods. What was amazing was the springer had not missed any. No explosive devices had gone undetected on his watch. Yet in the same area, when Buster was not on duty, metal detectors had not detected a number of IEDs and men had paid with their lives.
The Brits and Danes working alongside Barrow and Buster began to see the dog in almost mythical proportions. They quickly gained so much confidence in the springer they reasoned no IED would be left undiscovered along the road with Buster on duty. Therefore there would be no surprises. This allowed the soldiers to focus on all areas of their jobs.
In the Line of Fire Page 16
