When most of us think of war dogs, we probably think of the Bin Laden raid and the role a dog played on that mission. How do you train a dog for such a thing, to detect an IED, and so forth?
So, it’s safe to assume that the dog along for the Osama bin Laden raid was, like the US Navy SEALs he was with, of the best among his canine colleagues. And what that means is the dog was of exceptional pedigree, and, I would assume, he received extensive and exceptional training.
But that doesn’t mean that other Military Working Dogs (MWDs) are just ordinary—they’re exceptional as well. Because though all dogs might be born with superior noses, and the powerful scent ability that comes with it, they’re not all as adept at putting those abilities to use in a combat zone. There’s a lot of training—continuous training—involved and these dogs have to maintain a detection accuracy rate of 90 percent, which is really quite high.
The way they train dogs to track scent is fascinating. And there’s a difference too, between tracing scent on air — the way a Bloodhound would chase down an escaped convict — and the way a bomb-sniffing dog follows scent on the ground (the way an MWD would search for roadside bombs).
These magnificent noses have 220 million scent receptors (ours only have 5 million). Dogs can also pull apart odor in a much more complex way than we can and they imprint those odors—or can be trained to do so. For instance, handlers will often use the example of stew as a comparative example to an IED which are crudely made with various explosive ingredients, that never follow the same recipe. So when we humans with our puny noses smell stew – we might be able to identify the odor of meat and carrots, parsley and tomato. But a dog, if he’s trained properly, can learn to identify all of those ingredients and then give an alert when he smells just one of them. Meaning that he doesn’t need to smell the entirety of the stew (or bomb) to know that it’s stew (a bomb), he just needs to get a whiff of the meat or carrots.
Everytime you say MWD I think of WMD. So you probably get this question all the time, but if I’m a soldier, which breed should I want in the trench with me and why?
It’s an interesting question because not all militaries use the same breeds—and you would think that if one dog breed truly made for the ultimate war dog then we’d all be using the same breed. The U.S. military has, in recent years, employed mainly two breeds for what is known as dual-purpose dogs – dogs who are trained in detection and patrol work. And those breeds are German shepherds and Belgian Malinois. These dogs are known to be very intelligent and very hard, tireless workers—dogs with high prey drives with hardy dispositions. They’re also quite strong and, rather helpfully, offer an intimidating presence. Which is why, even though they can be rather cantankerous, we don’t use dogs like Chihuahuas.
Personally, I think dogs are like people in this way – they’re individuals, each with his or her own personality, strengths and weaknesses. One of the most talented handlers I met told me that a good handler will set the kind of training against the individual dog, that there isn’t a “cookie-cutter way” to train all dogs. So, I think there’s a wonderful case to made for using many different kinds of dogs—why not, mutts? Why not stray dogs? I know the U.S. military actually has good reason for the protocol they have in place, but some of history’s most heroic dogs were strays who befriended an obliging soldier and then proved to be natural war dogs when the occasion called for it.
So let’s step back a second. What’s the history of wartime and canines? Were dogs used in, say, the Peloponnesian War?
Hmm, well, I can’t speak to the Peloponnesian War, specifically, but there’s evidence to suggest that the Romans, the Greeks, and even the Egyptians had dogs at their disposal during battle. But I was surprised to learn the way dogs were used in warfare during the earliest instances. It was often a very brutal and savage application – either to scare, maim, or kill. It was less taking advantage of their intelligence and their natural skillset, but simply for the business of warmongering. For example, Christopher Columbus used dogs in this way.
Fortunately, this trend mostly faded by the time World War I came around and the use of dogs became more dignified. Their job was to carry messages, usually in small tubes attached to their collars, from command to the front because they could navigate the treacherous trench terrain with its many obstacles of bombed-out earth and barbed wire. Having four legs was abundantly useful and their ability to navigate through the dark meant they could travel at speeds more than twice as fast as the best human runners.
I think the intensity of war creates an environment in which the bonds that are forged – be they between humans or humans and canines – are equally intense.
They were also used as Red Cross dogs, or sanitary dogs – they were sent out onto the battlefield and could discern between the dead and the wounded. They’d been trained to pull off a helmet or piece of fabric from the wounded and return to their handlers and then lead them safely back to the wounded, usually under the cover of dark, so they could be rescued without coming under further harm.
How did you first get interested in writing a column, and later a book, about war dogs?
I got pretty lucky, I think. I was working with Tom Ricks, a seasoned war correspondent, on his Foreign Policy blog, Best Defense. I knew that Tom was a dog lover and while doing some photo research I came across this image of a Marine battalion kicking back with their bomb-sniffing dogs in Helmand Province. And I was struck by how different it was from the other photos coming off the wire from Afghanistan –everyone looked happy, even the dogs.
I share the photo with Tom. He loved it and asked me to find more. So I did and in the process discovered what a rich topic this really was, with a long, long history. So I started the weekly column. When the Osama bin Laden mission happened in May 2011, and along with it the news that on that fateful night the elite Navy SEALs team had with them a military dog. By that point I knew exactly why they would have brought a dog, so it seemed natural to pull together an essay explaining it. So I did. When it went viral, well the offer to write a book actually came to me.
Amazing. There’s a scene in the Werner Herzog documentary Happy People about Russian hunters who live on the Siberian taiga with just enough to live on and with their dogs they develop these strong bonds. You write about similar bonds between our men and women in uniform and their canine friends. What is it about war and maybe hardship that brings out this kind of close relationship?
I think the intensity of war creates an environment in which the bonds that are forged – be they between humans or humans and canines – are equally intense. To be confronted with your mortality in such a raw and brutal way or to be exposed with the loss of friends under such a violent circumstances, I think forces the connections people make to be more extreme, if that makes sense. To be so far from home and everything and everyone you know and love, existing in a reality outside your own reality… and if you know and love dogs, just think what the unconditional affection and loyalty of such a big-hearted animal like a dog must bring… how such easy affection must cut through all that other terrible stuff.
It makes me think of two things: The first is something a handler, Ron Aiello, told me. Aiello was a Vietnam veteran who deployed during that war with his dog, Stormy. He said he would’ve come back another person without her. That having her there with him preserved him somehow, it kept him more whole not only in body but in spirit. The second thing that comes to mind is something that I read when doing research for an article about Judy, the only canine POW, who was held with her adopted caretaker Frank Williams of the Royal Air Force during WWII. He said that he survived the treacherous conditions because he knew she needed him. “All I had to do was look at her and into those weary, bloodshot eyes,” he said, “and I would ask myself: ‘What would happen to her if I died?”’
Do troops once they get back home try to reconnect with their furry friends?
Often times they do. Unlike police K9 officers, military handlers don’t work their whole careers with the same dog. (I only know of one case where that happened.) Which I think can be hard – to partner up with one dog, perhaps deploy and form a strong bond, and then when the deployments over, they might get assigned to a different base and a new dog. But the MWD community is pretty tight-knit and it’s usually not too difficult to keep on dogs. And when the dogs are ready to retire, there’s usually a long line of handlers ready to bring them home.
Do dogs suffer PTSD? Do they go back into entering ‘civilian’ dog and kennel life when they get back home?
They definitely do. It’s a little foolish to think that dogs would experience the same wars – the same chaos, the same wounds, the same traumatic events—and not suffer the same ailments that humans do. So, yes, they come back changed. Sometimes it’s slight – where they weren’t scared of loud noises before, maybe the cower at the sound of fireworks or loud bangs. Sometimes dogs who do get PTSD (or CPTSD – Canine PTSD, a thing that veterinarians do treat MWDs for), are able to get trained out of these fears, slowly build back up their confidence and can deploy again and are just fine. Sometimes they’re not. And sometimes some dogs just aren’t meant for war. Dogs who do beautifully in controlled environments who see combat and just aren’t successful.
I remember reading those Dog Whisperer books about ‘alpha dogs’ and ‘pack leaders’ and being scolded for letting our dog sleep in the bed with us. But then I heard that Navy SEALs actually let their dogs sleep in their bunks and that in fact it doesn’t result in dogs thinking they are the pack leader. Is that true?
Ah, so here’s a question that gets at the heart, quite literally, of one of the elements of the MWD community that I found to be the most interesting and the most surprising while reporting this book: Handlers who didn’t believe love was a part of their job.
Now that might seem like a sappy premise –or even naïve in some ways—when examining seriously (or journalistically) this relationship. This is not a cute, fluffy topic and the contribution these dogs make is substantial and significant – they are saving lives, not just warming hearts. But… the idea that a dog does what he does for his handler is motivated solely by being more dominant or tough in training never tracked with me. Yes, of course obedience and a firm hand, repetition and hard work are vital components of training and getting a dog (and a handler) prepared for the job ahead.
But is it really the most important thing? I didn’t think so. It’s not what I witnessed. To me, the handlers that were closer with their dogs, the ones who treated their dogs like partners and used positive reinforcement and patience; those were the ones who looked the sharpest during training. I know there are handlers who will disagree with me. But, ultimately, I do believe that dogs love people and people love dogs. And I think that bond is makes for the most powerful base in this dynamic between handler and dog – stronger than any other element of their training.
[Photo source: Flickr Creative Commons]
War Dogs: Tales of Canine Heroism, History, and Love
by Rebecca Frankel
Palgrave Macmillan Trade, 272 pages, $15.29
Rebecca Frankel has written about war dogs since 2010. Her work has appeared in The Atlantic, National Geographic, and elsewhere. She has been a commentator on ABC World News with Diane Sawyer and MSNBC among others. She is currently a senior editor of special projects at Foreign Policy magazine. A Connecticut native, Frankel lives in Washington, DC.
