Trident K9 Warriors: My Tale From the Training Ground to the Battlefield With Elite Navy SEAL Canines

by Michael Ritland

  These early programs in the United States were instrumental in shaping later thinking. Both the leadership within the army and marines realized very quickly that civilian trainers who’d worked with dogs in police or private training environments didn’t have the tactical background to make them effective in combat situations. As a result, drawing handlers from the troops became the preferred option. Another lesson learned was that the fourteen weeks the marines spent in training scout and messenger dogs could be too intensive. Without proper rest and relaxation during training, the dogs’ performance actually degraded rather than improved. The first Devil Dogs served in squads of four canines—three scouts and one messenger dog—along with six men. Platoons were comprised of three squads along with an officer, sixty-five men, and eighteen scout and messenger dogs.10 The first deployments were in the Solomon Islands.

  The army’s Quartermaster Corps prepared 595 dogs for scouting duty to serve in the K9 Corps. Each of their squads consisted of eight dogs (four scouts and four messengers) with eight handlers. Seven units were attached to a corps or division in Europe, and eight in the Pacific. The Forty-second War Dog Platoon played a critical role in the Battle of the Bulge, and then its dogs worked as sentries at supply depots in Belgium. Others served guarding communications lines as well as leading infantry patrols. Similar to what I experienced, many men, after having dogs serve as scouts on patrol, reported that they never wanted to go out without canines and handlers again.

  From the jungle heat and humidity of the Solomon Islands to the frozen tundra of Alaska to the fields and forests of Europe, dogs served throughout World War II. (It should be noted that those Alaskan Search and Rescue operations resulted in one hundred crewmen being returned to safety.) If their efforts were hampered by anything, it was the lack of proper training, most of which was due to the fact that the time frame was so restrictive and that there was a relative lack of prior experience in training dogs for warfare. Sometimes Mother Nature intervened to keep dogs from showing their true effectiveness. Several officers within the army’s chain of command lobbied hard and long for the use of dogs as haulers during the Battle of the Bulge. The wintry conditions made it difficult for man and machine to do the work of moving materiel and supplies. More than two hundred dogs were trained and dispatched to France and Belgium, but their training time delayed arrival, and the warmer weather, which melted the snow, made them less useful than if they had been able to be deployed immediately.

  Similar kinds of shortfalls occurred because dogs were trained by exposing them to small-arms fire but not artillery—again, those lessons of “train like you fight” and expose dogs to every possible environmental stimulus come into play here. Fortunately for someone like me, those mistakes were made and we benefited from them later. While most messenger dogs completed their missions, there are various accounts of dogs being so spooked by the intensity of the sounds of heavy artillery that they didn’t make their appointed rounds. In retrospect, it’s easy to assign blame for those oversights, but an important point to keep in mind is that we in the United States didn’t have extensive experience in using dogs in combat situations. Even those who had, like the British, also made some of the same kinds of mistakes in preparing dogs for warfare operations.

  At the conclusion of the fighting in World War II, the QMC continued to be responsible for the canine programs. Because the conflict had ended, most of the dogs were trained and used for sentry duty. In 1951, the QMC was no longer in charge of the MWDs. That responsibility was transferred to the Military Police Corps. This move also signaled the abandonment of scouting and messenger training. First at Fort Riley in Kansas and later at Fort Carson in Colorado, the dogs were trained to serve as guards almost exclusively—a more valuable use in peacetime. While this was going on, the Korean War had started, with some dogs being transferred from sentry duty to combat operations. The Twenty-sixth Infantry Scout Dog Platoon, which had been training in Kansas, was immediately deployed to Korea and eventually earned a citation for its outstanding work in hundreds of missions. The citation identified the particular strengths of the dogs working on point, noted that casualty figures would have been greater had they not been there, and gave particular praise to the handlers and others who earned numerous awards, including Silver Stars and Bronze Stars for valor and meritorious service. After the cessation of fighting and signing of the peace agreement, many canines served by patrolling the newly established demilitarized zone between the two Koreas.

  By the time the war in Vietnam began, we realized the various purposes dogs could serve in the military. As a result, dogs engaged in four main activities during that conflict: scouting, tracking, water detection, and sentry work. Water detection isn’t what it may sound like. The navy used dogs to detect the presence of human beings in and under the water in order to defend its bases, ships, supplies, and personnel. I should also add that this kind of sentry and detection isn’t any less important or dangerous than combat duty. Every branch of the military is proud of its accomplishments and contributions, human and canine, and members of the air force are no different in this regard. Maybe not as well known as Rin Tin Tin or Stubby, the air force MWD Nemo and his contributions are of particular importance.

  A German shepherd dog, Nemo, was sent to Tan Son Nhut Air Base to work with his handler among the 377th Security Police Squadron. In December of 1966, the base came under Vietcong attack. Two handlers released their dogs to pursue the enemy, and the dogs were killed in action. The dogs’ altering of the presence of the enemy enabled the security forces to kill thirteen guerillas while suffering three casualties among the airmen. Later that same night, Nemo and his handler, Bob Thorneburg, were on patrol near a cemetery adjacent to the air base. They took on enemy fire and both were wounded. Even though Nemo sustained a bullet wound that entered through his right eye and exited his mouth, he continued to pursue the Vietcong, enabling Thorneburg to call in the support of a Quick Reaction Team. Despite his wounds, Nemo crawled back to Thorneburg and covered him with his own body. Though they were still under fire and Thorneburg sustained a second wound, they were extracted from the field. Both eventually recovered.

  Nemo returned to the United States and Lackland Air Force Base, the site of the air force’s dog-training center, where he lived as a mascot and a recruiter for the program, making personal and televised appearances. His presence at the training center served as a reminder of how important the relationship is between a canine and his handler.

  Along with different branches of the military celebrating the exploits of its members, different groups that favor certain breeds also keep alive the memory of their favorites. Combat Tracker Teams (CTTs) also served with distinction in Vietnam, using Labrador retrievers and their especially keen olfactory abilities and their even disposition and adaptability. To be fair, the vast majority of dogs that served in Vietnam were German shepherds. The oppressive heat and humidity of Southeast Asia was one factor that militated against the use of dogs there. The military command was originally highly resistant to the use of dogs there simply due to the weather and the effects it would have on the dogs’ performance. A few trials demonstrated that the dogs were more than capable of adapting, and the German shepherd did this (by losing its undercoat) better than most.

  As has been well documented, Vietnam presented a new challenge to American fighting forces. The guerilla nature of the warfare, the denseness of the jungle, the scattered site villages all contributed to the notion that the Vietcong were especially elusive. In order to combat this, new tactics needed to be employed. Of course, there’s little that is “new” in any war; it becomes a question of adapting and adopting tactics used by others elsewhere. Combat Tracker Teams serve as a good example of this. Adapting training and implementation programs from the British Jungle Warfare School, American military leadership employed Combat Tracking Teams. At first separately, and later together, dog, handler, a team leader, a visual tracker, a radiotelephone operator, and a cover m
an trained to combat the tactics employed by the Vietcong. They had two main purposes: to make contact with the enemy and to detect any recent enemy activity in the area. Learning jungle craft was critical to feeling at home in an environment that was so foreign to these men and dogs.

  The CTT units faced the same issues we do today with our SEAL Team dogs and handlers. They train separately for a while and then the SEAL MWDs and handlers have to integrate themselves into the larger force. Just as is true today, the dogs’ natural advantages and skills made that transition easy. With their innate tracking skills honed by additional training, the CTT Labs quickly made the men realize that while they were called “trackers,” they were essentially following the dogs’ lead. The men went from thinking What the hell is that dog doing here? to Why the hell didn’t we always have these dogs? in a matter of a few hours.

  The contributions of the CCT Labrador retrievers and their handlers didn’t receive a great deal of publicity or acclaim. In fact, the program was phased out entirely in 1970, but the lessons learned and the efforts of the dogs have been kept alive by breed enthusiasts and some participants and supporters of the program.11 In addition to their tracking work, the CCT dogs were also used to locate lost and missing friendlies. Together with a larger force working in advance of the CCT troops, the program was a success. Labrador retrievers also worked with the army as part of a tracker team. The difference between a scout team and tracker team is this: scouts search an area for signs of an enemy’s presence; trackers do the same but also then pursue that enemy aggressively. In all, nearly a dozen army tracker teams worked in support of U.S. troops during the Vietnam War. In addition to pursuing human targets, MWDs in Vietnam did what we train our dogs to do today—to find explosives. That detection work, complicated by the fact that the Vietcong frequently employed series of caves and tunnels, once again showed how dogs’ adaptability to foreign environments and their courage and other attributes could best be used to our advantage.

  Estimates vary, but as many as five thousand dogs and ten thousand handlers served their country from 1964 to 1975. Accurate accounting practices weren’t put in place until 1968, which explains why this is an estimate rather than a certainty.12 The sad reality is that, with few exceptions like Nemo, the vast majority of those dogs didn’t return to the United States. The reality of warfare resulted in handlers having to either set their dogs loose to fend for themselves or turn them over to the South Vietnamese army. Either way, it had to be a horrifically painful decision to leave a valued teammate behind.

  After Vietnam, this cycle continued—of not being certain of the dogs’ effectiveness, learning that they were capable, rushing the training programs, verifying the dogs’ usefulness, and employing them in combat and on patrol, and then essentially dismantling the programs and forgetting much of what was learned. It seemed as if during peacetime, little real thought was given to how much dogs had aided us during the various conflicts. We were slow to adopt the idea of using dogs, made some awkward and ill-advised moves, recovered, and benefited, but never fully developed a sustained program of using our canine companions fully in warfare. Dogs returned to their role as sentries—a valuable one, as I’ve said—but not one that fully utilizes their amazing abilities. Unfortunately, it took another attack on American soil, similar to Pearl Harbor, to resurrect our reliance on dogs in key strategic implementations. September 11, 2001 served as a wake-up call and a rallying cry in many ways.

  New York City was, obviously, one site of the attacks that altered the course of our nation. Everyone has their recollections of where they were that day once the news reached them. For me and for my fellow SEALs, as well as for anyone in the military, we quickly realized that the course of our service lives was going to change. I can’t say that other teams besides Team 6 wouldn’t have begun to use canines if it weren’t for 9/11, but certainly that horrible event triggered a need for heightened security on the civilian side and hastened our preparedness for the eventual conflicts our military engaged in.

  In a city that was unsettled by the attacks, dogs have played a prominent role in returning the lives of its citizens to a more “normal” level of concern. Interestingly, since 2001, New York City’s uniformed police roles have experienced a 17 percent decline in numbers. The number of canine members has doubled. Today, one hundred dogs serve the citizens of New York in either the narcotics, bomb, emergency-response, or transit squads.13 Even for those of us who don’t live in major metropolitan areas, the sight of dogs working at airports and other places is at least familiar as we travel or watch news reports. It may have taken a while for us to get used to the idea that ports of various kinds, from bus stations to major international airports, were patrolled by men with automatic weapons, but we seem to have adjusted fairly easily to the idea of dogs being present in those places.

  The Department of Defense has spent nearly twenty million dollars on explosive detection since 2006. Non-canine detection units have had a 50 percent success rate, but the canine units raise that number by another 30 percent. That’s a huge increase, and it is little wonder then that the Naval Special Warfare brass came to the same conclusion that New York City and other agencies have: dogs are the best detection “tool” available.

  It would take one of my best dogs to “sniff out” the SEALs’ previous history of the use of dogs in warfare. Not much is known about how dogs served in Vietnam, so that program remains shrouded in mystery. Whether that’s intentional or simply an oversight, or part of the SEAL community’s adherence to the “need to know” nature of nearly everything we do, is hard to say. What we do know is this: dogs were used, they were successful in helping operators, and when the war ended, the program was essentially abandoned. That’s a pretty familiar scenario, and there are even those who believe that the same thing should be done with the SEAL program entirely in times of peace.

  The problem with having the program disbanded is also familiar: when you want to start up a program again, you’re basically starting from scratch. In the case of the SEALs’ canine program, the problem was even more acute. No active duty member of the teams had been in Vietnam and worked with dogs during that last use of canines in combat. So when the activity in the two most current theaters, Iraq and Afghanistan, intensified and the call went out for a dog program to be created in 2004, this was another case of demand far outstripping supply. What added to this scenario was the fact that municipalities, other branches of the military, other Special Operations Forces, all came to the same conclusion at roughly the same time.

  Urgency and expediency won out. Everyone was on the lookout for dogs, and the easiest place from which to source them was within the military itself. After all, patrol dogs and detection dogs were still being used in the regular military. So, because something is better than nothing, these dogs were attached to some SEAL Teams and sent downrange. This is no knock on the work that those trainers and handlers did, but, as I’ve pointed out before, there is a substantial difference between a MWD and an SOF dog’s capabilities and requirements. Also, the handlers who were assigned to these teams weren’t up to speed on the kinds of tactical movements that the SEAL Teams employed as a regular part of their repertoire. So, on the one hand, you’ve got a high-speed, very advanced, tactically charged unit that’s trying to shoot, move, and communicate with a guy who has had the responsibilities of a military policeman and hasn’t spent the last five years of his life drilling day in and day out with these more advanced tactics.

  The fit wasn’t the best, and it became clear to everyone involved that a relatively simple equation existed theoretically but was problematic pragmatically: SOF units needed SOF canines. Given that what U.S. Army Rangers do and how they train is different from the SEAL Teams, and that what SEAL Teams do differs from what Green Berets and all the other various special forces do, those who used canines developed their own programs to meet their specific needs. The acquisition, training, and utilization of these dogs has evolved since 9/11, as
we’ve learned more and gained additional experience in the field.

  There’s no unanimity among trainers, breeders, or handlers on all issues, but everyone agrees that as detection tools, dog exceed any machine’s capabilities. Numerous groups have tried to build machines that replicate what a dog does. To this point, for a variety of reasons, the machines haven’t been able to surpass that 80 percent success rate canines provide. In addition, they haven’t been cost-effective enough, or had other problems, so using them to replace dogs entirely in serving in this important capacity is unwise and hasn’t happened.

  As with most things regarding SEAL Teams and any additions to the program, be it technology, tactics, and so on, SEAL Team 6 pioneered the way with their canine program. They created and refined the program, the training procedures, and other elements of working with SOF canines trickled down to the teams on the East and West Coasts. As I was leaving the navy, the canine program was starting to go into a higher gear in and around Coronado. I’d already purchased property and had plans already in place to create the best dog-training facility I could. My connections within the SOF community certainly helped me get my business started, and I’m grateful for that. The truth is, though, that if I weren’t able to provide them with dogs that succeeded downrange, I wouldn’t continue to get contracts to do what I do. I’m also grateful that I can contribute to our ongoing efforts in however indirect a manner as I presently do. I felt that there was a need for someone like me to be out here in civilian life to help meet the need for these highly skilled multi-purpose dogs.

  Those of us who train SOF canines are a very small and very tight-knit community. We assist one another in every way we can. We sometimes trade dogs among ourselves when the need arises. There’s no room for us to let egos or dollars get in the way of succeeding at job one—training dogs that will save our brothers’ lives.