No Buddy Left Behind: Bringing U.S. Troops' Dogs and Cats Safely Home From the Combat Zone

by Terri Crisp; C. J. Hurn

  "Would it be possible for me to speak with this woman? She might know something that will help us. I promise that her identity will remain confidential."

  "I can give you her phone number, but please don't share it with anyone. I sure don't want somebody getting hurt or killed trying to save Charlie."

  That sounded ominous. Animal rescue work is often risky, but in a country reeling from years at war, serious danger was a reality. Were we at SPCA International really prepared for this?

  I called the number that Eddie gave me and left a message describing myself as someone who wanted to help SGT Watson get his dog to Arizona. I assured her that any information we shared would be kept confidential, and I left my number.

  Later, after I finished wrapping up my work for the day, I walked down the hall and knocked on JD's office door.

  "You got a minute? I wanted to give you an update on the soldier and his dog."

  "Great! I was wondering how that was going. Make any progress?"

  "Not really, but I did talk to Eddie this afternoon."

  "Really?" JD picked up his water bottle, took a long sip, and put it down slowly. His mouth did that tight-lipped thing that I had learned was his way of collecting himself when he was concerned about something.

  "Don't worry. I didn't call long distance to Baghdad," I said, laughing. "Eddie is home on leave in Phoenix for two weeks."

  "That's good timing," he said, his mouth relaxing. "So what did you learn?"

  I reviewed everything I had discovered, both positive and negative, and I didn't leave out the dangers we would be facing if we took on the project.

  The woman whom Eddie had mentioned had called me back earlier in the day. Her heart-rending stories made it clear that we needed money, firm commitment, flexibility, a lot of luck, and a strong heart to attempt any rescues out of Iraq. Without having heard her experiences firsthand, I suspected that this project would have been doomed from the start. Forewarned is forearmed, my mother used to say, and in this instance she couldn't have been more correct.

  JD leaned back in his chair and folded his hands on top of his head. "In all honesty, now that we know the odds, do you really think we can help Eddie?"

  "I don't know. But I sure as hell want to continue trying."

  "Then that's what you've got to do. If anyone can make it happen, Terri, it will be you."

  "Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I don't feel worthy of it at the moment."

  JD thought for a moment. "Getting Charlie out of Iraq will be an expensive endeavor, and we'll have to raise funds to cover the costs. Since Eddie is in Phoenix, let's take advantage of that. Why don't you go there and get an interview with him on tape? Eddie will plead Charlie's case much better than anyone else could. We'll put his video on the SPCA International website and give it the best publicity we can."

  "That's a great idea. I'll arrange it right away."

  On November 1, 2007, I sat outside a Phoenix recording studio waiting for Eddie to arrive. A car pulled up, and a young man sporting a buzz cut and Army uniform got out and walked toward me, his back straight and his head held high. He was the first soldier I had ever met who was on active duty and serving in a country at war. I stood and smiled as he approached. A handshake seemed too impersonal, so I gave Eddie a big hug.

  A short while later Eddie sat in front of a plain blue background as the camera zoomed in on his face and shoulders, recording my questions and his poignant answers. Despite his calm demeanor and a soldier's unemotional expression, the camera had no trouble capturing the incredible bond that had formed between this infantryman and a stray Iraqi dog.

  "What will happen to Charlie if you don't get him out of Iraq?" I asked.

  "If Charlie were put back out on the street, no doubt about it, he'd never survive," Eddie said with a faraway look in his eyes as if visualizing the harsh life Charlie would have to face on his own. "This is a dog that has been cared for since he was a tiny pup. He has no idea how to fend for himself. If someone were not there to give him something to eat, he wouldn't know what to do when he got hungry. He's never lived with a pack of dogs, and finding one that would accept him now is unlikely. If Charlie had to depend on himself to survive, there is one thing that'd happen for sure."

  Eddie stopped to clear his throat before proceeding. "Charlie would die if he were left on his own. For a dog that has such an amazing personality and is so devoted to us soldiers, it would be tragic to let his life end like that."

  "Why is it so important to bring Charlie home?"

  Eddie held back for a moment, looked down, and folded his hands in his lap before looking back at me. Letting out a deep sigh, Eddie raised one hand to rub his forehead, as if trying to erase the frown that had suddenly formed. I sensed that he was stalling long enough to compose himself. I will never forget the determination in his eyes when he finally answered my question.

  "The reason it's so important for me to save Charlie is that I made him a promise." Eddie paused. His eyes captivated me with their piercing sincerity. "When you're a soldier, every second of every day you stand beside your buddies while your lives are in constant danger. You know these guys will die for you to save your life. And you're just as ready to die for them. So when we make a promise to each other, we keep that promise, no matter what." Eddie pronounced each word distinctly, emphasizing his point.

  "We take Charlie out on patrols, and more than once he's proven that he'd lay down his own life to protect us. Charlie is one of us. He's more than just an ordinary mutt off the streets of Iraq. That dog has more guts than most people I know, and he deserves to live.

  "In the Army we live by the motto `No buddy gets left behind.' That motto applies to Charlie, too." Eddie's voice broke on the last word. He stopped for a second, swallowed, and looked straight into my eyes. When he next spoke, his voice came through loud and strong.

  "Leaving Charlie in Iraq is not an option. I promised him I'd bring my buddy home."

  The recording studio fell silent. Eddie's response brought everyone and everything to a standstill. Relieving the intensity of the moment, I gently cleared my throat and asked the crew if we could take a five-minute break. Then I reached into my briefcase and pulled out a Kleenex.

  When the recording session was finished, Eddie took me out to lunch. It was a wonderful opportunity to get to know him better. I couldn't help but like this soldier. After he dropped me off at the airport, I couldn't stop thinking about the incredible devotion Eddie had shown to Charlie. At that moment I vowed that I would not stop until the day I could wrap my arms around Charlie's neck and whisper in his ear, "Welcome home!"

  SPCA International put together a five-minute video from our taping session and posted it on the website. Deciding that we needed an official name for the campaign, we considered several until we unanimously agreed on "Operation Baghdad Pups." Striking artwork was added to the web campaign, along with Eddie's story and the video. Almost immediately donations began rolling in.

  On this side of the world, progress was being made, but the actual rescue plan was still missing.

  Charlie on guard duty Eddie Watson

  Charlie runs to meet the returning patrol. Eddie Watson

  fter investigating every lead I could find-a person here, a company there-a possible solution was offered by a veterinarian who lived and practiced in Jordan and needed to remain anonymous. I didn't want to tell Eddie this, but the veterinarian was asking for an enormous amount of money; he'd have to pay people to look the other way in order to make the impossible happen. If this person turned out to be our only option for saving Charlie, SPCA International would just have to raise the funds.

  I decided to e-mail Eddie now that he was back in Iraq to give him an update and to ask for his reaction to the proffered solution. Over the next few weeks our e-mails became Eddie's lifeline as we brainstormed from a great distance and gave each other moral support.

  Hi, Eddie,

  I may have some good news. We can fly
Charlie from Jordan to the U.S. if we can get him across the border. A Jordanian veterinarian is willing to help us with papers and getting him onto a flight. It sounds like a long shot, but we may not have another option. Do you think you can get Charlie to the border, and if you can, what are the risks we need to consider?

  -Terri

  As I hit the "Send" button, I imagined what Eddie might feel at the thought of releasing Charlie into strangers' hands for a long cross-country journey. I doubted they could get Charlie to the Jordanian border without traveling through combat zones. With no other feasible solutions, however, a part of me hoped Eddie would agree to this plan. A few days later his reply came through.

  Terri,

  Regarding Jordan, I believe it's against the law to take dogs from Iraq into neighboring countries due to health concerns. There's a small chance we could get Charlie driven to the border, but I know of a soldier in another unit who went this route, and things couldn't have gone worse. An Iraqi border guard found his dog, dragged him off the truck, and shot him in the head. Then he kicked the body to the side of the road like a piece of trash. Keeping Charlie hidden and quiet could be an issue. If the guards found him, it would be the end of Charlie.

  -Eddie

  This was really disturbing news. Our only valid rescue plan so far could easily turn into a disaster for Charlie. It sounded as if this option was just too risky to try. I honestly didn't know what to say next other than to encourage Eddie to keep asking everyone he met for ideas and helpful contacts while I did the same. All I could do was pray for something to come through. I had to believe it would; I couldn't let Eddie and Charlie down.

  Two days later I heard from Eddie again.

  Terri,

  One of my buddies told me about a new charter airline that flies between Baghdad and Kuwait. I don't know if they transport animals, but it might be worth looking into. They're called "Gryphon Airlines," and they're an American-owned company. I'm about ready to head out on patrol. Do you have time to check this out? I sure hope you can reach them. Charlie does, too. Time is slipping by fast and still no answers.

  -Eddie

  I typed "Gryphon Airlines" into the browser search box, and there it was! When I picked up the phone, I couldn't punch those numbers fast enough. After I explained what I needed, my query was directed to John Wagner, one of the founding partners, whose office was in Colorado. John listened to my abbreviated version of Charlie's story, and I could tell by his questions he was intrigued.

  "We've flown sniffer dogs for the military, so I don't see why we can't fly this soldier's dog," John said. "I have seen firsthand the gutwrenching conditions dogs in Iraq are exposed to. If we can give one of those poor mutts a better life, I say let's give it our best shot."

  I could hardly contain my excitement. "Boy, you don't know what you've just done," I said laughing through my tears. We arranged to meet in Los Angeles the following week to discuss details.

  When we finished the phone conversation, I just sat for a moment. Was this it? Could I dare to hope? The tone of self-assurance in John's voice had made me feel that this guy could do anything. I couldn't wait to share the news with Eddie, and I wrote a quick e-mail.

  Gryphon may be our answer! My boss and I are meeting with one of their representatives next week. The airline flies military contractors for the U.S. Department of Defense, so if all goes according to plan, Charlie will be in safe hands. The flight will leave from Sather Air Force Base on the U.S. military side of Baghdad International Airport (BIAP). All you have to do is get Charlie there. It's beginning to look like you'll get to keep your promise to Charlie.

  -Terri

  The next morning Eddie called me from Iraq.

  "Thank you!" he repeated at least ten times. "After three months of trying everything I could think of to get Charlie home, for the first time I believe it actually might happen." Eddie paused. "There's something I should've told you before," he apologized. "I'm really sorry, but it never came up since we hadn't gotten this far along with a plan."

  "What is it?" I held my breath. Any sentence starting out with "I should've told you" usually means bad news.

  "I can't get Charlie to BIAP."

  "Oh. You can't? Why? Is it too far away?"

  Eddie's reply brought another revelation about the extraordinary difficulties of moving around within Iraq.

  "It's about twenty miles, but I can't borrow a military vehicle or leave the outpost unless I'm on official military business."

  "Isn't there someone local we could hire?"

  "I wish there was, but I just don't know anyone I can trust. All the locals I come in contact with would rather have their teeth yanked out with a pair of pliers than get close to a dog, except maybe to kick it. They're the last people we could count on."

  This is crazy, I thought. We had finally found a way to transport Charlie over six thousand miles, and now I was being told we couldn't achieve a distance of twenty.

  "I'm really sorry," Eddie said again.

  "Hey, it's not your fault. We'll get over this hump, too."

  I hoped I was right. This new dilemma was too much for me to handle right then. I'd go tackle something I could accomplish and check it off my list. I went to the website of the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention to determine the requirements for bringing a foreign dog into the United States. I learned that Charlie would have to be vaccinated at least thirty days prior to depart ing Iraq and would need a health certificate signed by a veterinarian within ten days of departure. I e-mailed this information to Eddie.

  The next week JD and I met with John Wagner of Gryphon Airlines. He turned out to be a fascinating man with high adventure stories from his days in Iraq as a Senior Public Affairs Officer for the military during the early years of the war. John was pleased to announce that his partners were on board for saving Eddie's dog.

  "Hey, we're happy to do whatever we can to support DOD military operations and help the troops. Saving a soldier's dog at the same time is a double hitter."

  John asked us a lot of questions about our specific needs and discussed in more detail what was involved in the transporting of a dog. ... .. . .. . ... . . . . .. .

  "And the plane," I asked. "You're saying that the cargo hold where Charlie will go is pressurized and climate controlled?"

  "There's no cargo hold on the plane we use, so the luggage either goes in a compartment at the back of the plane or is placed right behind the cockpit. Charlie," he smiled, "will travel in the cabin."

  "Just to confirm," I said, trying to grasp that our miracle really was about to happen, "Gryphon is definitely able to fly Charlie from Baghdad to Kuwait."

  "Yes, ma'am, your understanding is correct."

  "What will the cost be?" JD asked.

  "This one is on us."

  Wow. How do you say "thanks" to that?

  After a moment of shocked silence, JD and I expressed our heartfelt gratitude to John and his partners for their unbelievably generous offer. At this point I cringed at the thought of begging one more favor. But it had to be done.

  "There's one more thing, John. It turns out that Eddie can't get Charlie to BIAP. Any chance you know someone who could pick Charlie up and get him to the airport?"

  "As a matter of fact, I do. We've done a lot of work with one of the security companies that operate in Baghdad, and they're a good bunch of guys. I can ask them to help us out."

  "Really? No joking?"

  "No joking," he grinned. "I'll call them tomorrow and get back to you, but I'm sure they'll step up to the plate. They're always ready to go above and beyond for the troops."

  The next morning at work I was giving Matt an account of the meeting with John when my cell phone rang.

  "I've got some good news, Terri." John Wagner's confident voice came through like a stream of sunshine after weeks of rain.

  "I just got off the phone with the head guy of the security group in Baghdad, and he said it's no problem for them to pick up
Charlie since they're not too far from Eddie's location. Gryphon flies between Kuwait and Baghdad three nights a week, so we can get Charlie on whichever flight you pick. All you have to do is let the security team know when and where to pick Charlie up."

  "Wow! That's incredible. You've just made my day. I'll let Eddie know right away. Thank you so much, John. You and your partners are an absolute Godsend."

  When I wrote to Eddie, I realized that he'd probably be asleep. It was the middle of the night in Baghdad, but he'd be checking his e-mails first thing in the morning, eager to see if our plan was finally coming together.

  Great news, Eddie! We've got transport-door to door! SLG (Security and Logistics Group) will pick Charlie up and deliver him to Gryphon Airlines. Now we have to focus on shots and the health certificate. Can you give me an update on that ASAP?

  -Terri

  By now I couldn't help but sit back and feel somewhat proud of what we'd accomplished so far. Despite the setbacks, we were moving forward on a mission that many people had claimed was impossible.

  If I could put my finger on the most powerful tool I've learned to use over the years, I'd put it on trust. Trusting that everything will work out in the end seems to set the right energy in motion, draw ing all the ingredients for a successful outcome toward me. In the few weeks I had been working with Eddie, I noticed that he, too, refused to let setbacks get him down and always focused on the positive outcome.

  After waiting several days to hear of Eddie's progress in getting the health certificate, I finally received another e-mail from him.

  You won't believe what just happened. After all the time I spent searching for a vet, I found out the other day that the Ministry of Agriculture is within spitting distance of our outpost. At first I got really excited until I learned I could go there only on official military business. I can't reveal any details, but I can say an official patrol to the ministry was finally arranged. While there I spoke to one of the veterinarians about Charlie. He agreed to help. So guess what? Charlie is vaccinated! He took the shot like a champ and didn't put up a fight at all. The vet said he'd issue his health certificate just before Charlie's flight. I've got to tell you, after all these months of dead ends I really do believe Charlie is going home.