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  IN THE LINE OF FIRE

  More Abingdon Press Books by Ace Collins

  Nonfiction

  Man’s Best Hero

  Service Tails

  Music for Your Heart

  Fiction

  The Fruitcake Murders

  Hollywood Lost

  The Color of Justice

  The Cutting Edge

  Darkness Before Dawn

  The Christmas Star

  IN THE LINE OF FIRE

  DARING STORIES OF MAN’S BEST HERO

  ACE COLLINS

  IN THE LINE OF FIRE

  DARING STORIES OF MAN’S BEST HERO

  Copyright © 2018 by Ace Collins

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, except as may be expressly permitted by the 1976 Copyright Act or in writing from the publisher. Requests for permission can be addressed to Permissions, The United Methodist Publishing House, 2222 Rosa L. Parks Blvd, Nashville, TN 37228, or emailed to [email protected].

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been requested.

  978-1-5018-4186-6

  18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26—10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  Dedicated to Master Sergeant J. C. Burnam, whose service

  beside an amazing dog on the battlefields of Vietnam inspired

  four decades of work leading to the creation of The National

  Military Dog Monument.

  CONTENTS

  Introduction

  1. Unexpected Heroism

  2. No Limits

  3. Loyalty

  4. Adoption

  5. Second Chance

  6. Resistance

  7. Flight

  8. Bond

  9. Value

  10. Honor and Courage

  11. Friendship

  12. Duty

  13. Sacrifice

  INTRODUCTION

  There have been dogs on battlefields for thousands of years, but the first modern canine to be recognized as a full military partner by those with whom she served was a Civil War terrier. For four years this small bundle of fur and fire witnessed the horrors of war in some of the most remembered battles in history, and like the nation it changed her. In fact, from mascot to messenger to scout to sentry to sniffer, being in the line of fire dramatically transformed all the canines profiled in this book. It was that transformation that is the foundation for each of these remarkable and inspiring stories.

  World War I, then called the Great War, was the first large-scale military operation to employ dogs as soldiers. In the war to end all wars a small mutt proved his courage on the battlefield and taught the world a lesson in loyalty that spanned two continents. In the most pivotal battle of World War I, a collie-greyhound mix gave everything he had to save France and in the process perhaps change the course of the entire war. There is also the all-but-forgotten story of an American soldier who rescued a puppy on a French battlefield. That simple act of compassion impacted the world of entertainment and changed the way dogs were trained in World War II.

  Perhaps the book’s most unlikely hero served with Canadians during the early days of World War II, while the most unusual and unexpected profile found in these pages is an Asian-born English Pointer that became the world’s only official canine prisoner of war. Then there is the German shepherd born between French and German lines that flew on bombing runs with the United Kingdom’s Royal Air Force.

  Dogs were all but dismissed by the military when the Korean conflict broke out but a German shepherd that joined a legendary American unit would not only save hundreds of lives but also make such a huge impact that his service inspired an episode of the famed television series M*A*S*H. That canine hero also helped develop training methods used to educate thousands of dogs that served in Vietnam. While the canine heroes in that war performed gallantly and saved thousands of lives, they also suffered an unimaginable fate that still haunts many military veterans who once called these dogs partners. One of the canines profiled in these pages escaped that destiny while another did not.

  The final two featured dogs, a springer spaniel and a German shepherd mix, have proved that canines are even more important in the technological age than they were a hundred years ago. Thousands of recent combat vets can attest that perfection is not just a military goal but, as seen in the service records of these two dogs, can actually become a reality.

  From the Civil War to today the dogs featured in the pages of In the Line of Fire share a common thread: each exceeded expectations while adapting to unexpected situations. In doing so they proved the unimagined potential of God’s most noble and loyal creation. These stories also seem to demonstrate that if mankind were more like man’s best friend, there would be no need for military dogs as there likely would be no wars. But as long as men and women stand in the line of fire, surely a dog will be there too.

  ONE

  UNEXPECTED HEROISM

  Heroism is endurance for one moment more.

  —George F. Kennan

  While dogs in our modern world fill many roles, a majority are still just pets and therefore their duties and responsibilities pale in comparison to what was expected by dog owners 170 years ago. In the middle of the nineteenth century, for those living outside cities, canines were indispensable. In reality, the dog was perhaps the most important family tool. It was not as much a pet as it was a sentry, hunter, herder, and defender. During an era when almost every rural family saw a dog as essential, it is interesting that canines served no official purpose in the military. It would take more than seven decades before dog training became a part of the military. Yet that didn’t keep a feisty terrier out of one of the bloodiest battles in the American Civil War or prevent her from being recognized and saluted by the nation’s most revered leader. To fully grasp the unlikely dynamics that brought this story to life, one first has to understand history as it unfolded.

  By 1860, in the then not-so-United States, trouble had been brewing for more than a decade. But the event that set the stage for the breaking of a union was the election of Abraham Lincoln as president. In November the tall man from Illinois won the popular and electoral vote over a trio of competitors: John C. Breckinridge, John Bell, and Stephen Douglas. With Lincoln readying to take over the nation’s highest office, those pushing for an end to slavery finally felt as if they had a strong and willing leader in power. Yet it was the fear that Lincoln would act quickly to emancipate the slaves that also created an environment where many in the South vowed to walk away from a nation that refused to recognize individual states’ rights to determine whether one man could legally own another. While the newly elected president pushed for an understanding between the two factions, many in the media and in government deemed the nation already irrevocably broken. So in early 1861, even though few could fathom the deadly consequences that soon would drench American soil in blood, a clock was ticking, driven by moral choices that seemed to be anchored in stone. Soon that clock would hit the zero hour and when it did the country would blow up.

  On February 8, 1861, a full month before Lincoln was sworn in, the slave-holding states officially left the union and announced the formation of the Confederate States of America. Not unexpectedly the government of the United States did not recognize this new governing body. Yet war didn’t break out immediately. Over the next few months, as the nation teetered on the brink of armed conflict, somehow, amid the fiery rhetoric, cooler heads prevailed. Thus many in the new president’s administration actually believed the seceding states could b
e wooed back into the union without a single shot being fired. But those hopes were finally and forever dashed on April 12, 1861, when Confederate forces attacked Fort Sumter in South Carolina. For the next four years it would be brother against brother and father against son as more men died in combat than during any other American conflict.

  A few weeks after the shots were fired at Fort Sumter, an unlikely hero was born. No one could have predicted that, more than a century and a half later, a brindle bull terrier would rank as one of the most remembered and cherished symbols of heroism and loyalty during the darkest period in American history. How this untrained canine came to symbolize the sacrifice and horror of war is one of the most unusual and dramatic stories of the Civil War. Yet even more amazing is the way this dog became a role model and inspiration for one of the country’s most honored and revered regiments.

  With the nation at war, the call went out for volunteers to engage the southern rebels. In communities across the Ohio Valley and up the Eastern Seaboard, tens of thousands signed up to wear union blue. With city bands playing patriotic songs, countless children waving flags, and city leaders making political speeches harkening back to the founding fathers’ faith in a complete union of states and solidarity of the American people, the lure to join the military quickly built into fever pitch. These new soldiers had never experienced war. Most had not even been born when the War of 1812 ended. What they knew of battle was a product of books, plays, and family stories dipped in large doses of patriotism and glory and void of death and suffering. Thus, on the surface, war sounded like the greatest adventure known to man. In a very real sense, officers and newly enlisted men alike both saw the war as little more than a parade action.

  In this climate, Colonel Thomas Gallagher, Lieutenant Colonel James Porter, and Major Samuel Jackson were directed to create the 11th Pennsylvania Regiment and within days more than a thousand men from throughout the commonwealth jumped at the chance to teach the Rebs a lesson. These passionate volunteers signed to serve just three months. Why? Because that was how long most predicted it would take until the South was tamed and peace was restored to the nation. With an easy victory seemingly ensured, on April 26, 1861, when the men of the 11th left West Chester and headed for Camp Curtin, Harrisburg, for training and organization, the mood was upbeat. Mothers weren’t worried about losing sons and few of the men were concerned about dying in battle. In order to fully frame this upbeat and casual mood, a local citizen marched forward soon after the unit’s creation with a five-week-old pit bull terrier puppy and presented it to Captain William Terry. This small helpless terrier seemed more a burden than a gift, but the captain readily accepted it figuring the dog would offer his men a diversion during training. The new recruits barked out possible names for their tiny mascot. Finally, after much discussion, the terrier was christened in honor of a beautiful local woman and the unit’s colonel, Phaon Jarrett. Thus the tiger-striped pup, barely large enough to fit into a man’s hand, became Sallie Ann Jarrett. At that moment of celebration no one could have predicted the horrific price of the war or that the dog’s name would still be remembered and honored almost two centuries later.

  By modern military standards, the training experienced by the men of the 11th might seem lax. On some days there was as much kidding around as there was teaching and drilling. Thus, there was plenty of time to spoil the growing pup. Using treats and kindness, many of the young soldiers attempted to win the favor of Miss Sallie. In fact, there seemed to be a competition to gain the undying loyalty of the unit’s mascot. In those moments war seemed a million miles away and the men were more boys at summer camp than soldiers preparing to engage in a life-and-death struggle. Even when the regiment was assigned to the Army of the Shenandoah and shipped to Maryland, few sensed the horror that lay just over the horizon.

  The 11th initially drew guard duty at Annapolis. A few weeks later they were moved to protect railroad lines in Manassas Junction. Both of these assignments gave the soldiers plenty of time to play with Sallie, and the growing pup was quickly trained to march in step when the men were on parade. With her ears pricked and eyes alert, she also was the first one up and in line for inspection when the bugler sounded reveille. Thanks in part to the mascot’s antics and their relatively placid duty assignment, most of the men of the 11th still felt at ease. Yet, when the regiment was informed their enlistments had been extended from three months to three years, some began to fully grasp this was not a walk in the park; there was a growing chance they might actually face enemy fire.

  As the sounds of war drew closer, as the men of the 11th observed the bodies of others coming back from battle, Sallie began to take on a role much greater than that of mascot and playmate. On long nights when gunfire and cannon blasts could be heard in the distance, the growing puppy became a living security blanket. As they slept on the ground, as tears of uncertainty filled their eyes, soldiers took turns holding this warm, breathing reminder of home and family. When they saw the terrier they were reminded of all they were missing. Thus, Sallie came to represent not only their own dogs waiting in Pennsylvania but also their families. In many of the letters the men of the 11th wrote, it was the terrier’s exploits that drove the narratives. In the midst of war Sallie was delivering the love and devotion that mothers and wives could no longer give and the companionship and security once reserved for fathers.

  By July, the letters home went beyond just highlighting Sallie’s tricks; they began to describe her personality. Those communications spelled out that the dog was affectionate and laid back. She also had no favorites, treating each member of the regiment with the same unbridled enthusiasm and now growled whenever anyone said “Rebel.” She had also developed a nightly routine. She would visit each tent before heading to the officer’s headquarters to bed down for the night.

  One of the dog’s most amazing qualities was witnessed during mess. She would not beg for food nor would she steal it, but she also made sure only those from the 11th got into the chow line. She would chase away any visitors who dared ask for grub. When the cooks or servers walked away from the mess tent, she allowed no one to get near the food stores. Somehow with no training she had become a sentry.

  The fact that Sallie would not steal anything, even meat when she was hungry, became a teaching tool for officers. The dog was constantly singled out as an example of the honesty needed in order for the regiment to become a cohesive unit where each man could trust the other in and out of combat. Perhaps in part because of Sallie’s example, the 11th became known for its character. Men could leave valuables in their tents and they would still be there when they returned. No one even cheated in poker. Officers from other units actually visited the regiment to uncover what kind of discipline was being employed to create this type of environment. They were mystified when the 11th’s commander simply pointed to the bull terrier.

  As the country prepared for its eighty-fifth birthday, the 11th was finally ordered to pack up and march to a combat zone. On July 2, 1861, after crossing the Potomac, the Army of the Potomac began to close in on General Thomas Jackson’s Confederate Volunteers outside of Martinsburg, Virginia. As the lines were drawn and men checked and rechecked their weapons, the rural Virginia woods were calm. Birds sang, squirrels played in the trees, and a light breeze eased some of the summer heat, but for the first time Sallie was anything but subdued. She sensed something was about to happen and was nervous, wary, and anxious. While time slowed to a crawl and soldiers said silent prayers, Sallie raced from man to man, offering each a gentle nudge before moving to the next. When the order to advance was finally given, the terrier joined the flag corps and resolutely marched toward the Confederate forces. A few minutes later the placid calm was suddenly broken. As cannons fired and men yelled, peace gave way to terror. With no warning the troops were knocked to the ground by balls of lead and battle cries were all but drowned out by screams. Smoke soon brought haze as thick as a spring fog and in the man-made cloud the Grim Reaper was dilig
ently seeking new victims.

  As the battle continued and as the dog and the men tasted real war for the first time, Sallie stayed at her post beside the Stars and Stripes, watching anxiously as the soldiers she’d come to know and love were locked in a combat she couldn’t have understood. The supposedly colorblind dog did somehow grasp something that would become even more evident throughout the remainder of her time with the 11th: those in gray were the enemy and whenever one of the Confederate soldiers drew close, the normally quiet terrier barked and growled. Sallie didn’t stop until the invader was either pushed back or taken down.

  After a few hours, the 11th’s first battle was over as Jackson’s forces were driven into a retreat. The now blood-drenched soil around Hoke’s Run was claimed by the Union. On that summer afternoon ten of the men from Pennsylvania were wounded. As the doctors treated the injuries, Sallie went from soldier to soldier providing comfort and assurance. There was also one from the unit who died that day and the terrier spent extra time at his side. She urged him to get up and she likely couldn’t fathom why he no longer responded to her voice. Yet as they took the dead man away for burial, the dog, along with those around her, seemed, for the first time, to understand the full price of war.

  As many of the unseasoned men of the 11th would later reveal in letters home, it was Sallie’s sense of duty and the fact that the eardrum-bursting noise of the battle had not driven her from her post that gave them the courage to keep fighting. Never once did the puppy flinch or take a step backward. Even with bullets sailing all around her, she remained steady. When the men around her moved forward, so did she. There were even times when she would dig a lead ball out of the dirt beside her, pick it up, and defiantly spit it out. Those who experienced their first taste of battle that July day would proclaim in letters home that it was Sallie that was the example of what each member of the regiment should strive to become.