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This book is dedicated to the brotherhood, and the loyal hounds that help keep them safe.
CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Author’s Note
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Endnotes
Photo Insert
About the Author
Copyright
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to thank the following people, for without them this book would not
have been possible.
My parents, George and Sandy—Thank you for putting up with me as a kid
and instilling the values and foundation that forged me into the man I am today.
The SEAL Teams—Enlisting at eighteen, I grew up in the teams. There could
not have been a finer collection of warriors to be around to set the example of
how to live your life. The entire country owes you an infinite debt of gratitude
for the violence you bestow on our enemies.
Marc Resnick, his assistant Kate Canfield, and everyone at St. Martin’s Press
—Thank you for your professionalism and pride in what you do. It’s been a
pleasure working with you.
Gary Brozek—Thank you for the countless hours of hard work you have put
into this project, bringing my words to life in a way that couldn’t make me
prouder.
Brandon Webb—The brotherhood continues to prove that it takes care of its
own, and your friendship and advice are certainly no exception. Thank you for
everything, brother.
Wayne Dodge—Brother, there are no words to give ample thanks for what
you have done for me, in more ways than one. Your friendship will be forever
appreciated.
The warriors (both men and dogs) at MPC-1—You guys are the reason I do
what I do, and I could not be prouder of the job you guys have done and
continue to do.
Special thanks to:
The Allon Family
Happy
Fro
BC
Mike Mike
Wimbo
DK
Shrek
Del
Echy
Dusty
CP
SA
Cinnamon Bear
Johnny D
Mrs. Toad
Mike Suttle
Darryl Richey
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Since earliest recorded history, dating back to the time when humans first battled
over territory or property using rocks and sticks, one other weapon has been used
—canines. Whether it was the Ephesians doing battle, the Athenians fending off
the advancing Persians at the Battle of Marathon, or the Spanish Conquistadors
using Mastiffs against Native Americans, to more modern examples, we have
utilized the dogs of war. Not only have they been utilized, they’ve been
memorialized for their heroic loyalty and service. This book is my attempt to
bring attention and praise to one segment of the military working dog
community of warriors. At a time when an operator sitting in a room thousands
of miles from a battlefield can direct a drone attack, when billions of dollars are
spent developing high-tech weaponry, the one constant in war remains our use of
canines. That speaks to their effectiveness as well as their heart, and proves the
truth of their being Man’s Best Friend.
INTRODUCTION
The tense silence was broken only by the sound of the MH-60’s rotors and
blades beating like a quickened pulse. Along with the sixteen other members of a
West Coast–based SEAL Team, the multi-purpose K9 Duco sat vigilant and
eager. Duco and his handler, Seth, had been assigned to a forward operating base
(FOB) in northeastern Afghanistan, close to the Pakistani border in the
mountainous region of the Hindu Kush. The area is well known as a porous zone
where Taliban terrorists and their leaders travel from training grounds in
Pakistan into Afghanistan. A few hours earlier Seth had attended a pre-mission
briefing. The Operations Order commanded them to neutralize a high-value
target in a nearby village, some fifty kilometers (thirty-one miles) away. The
target, as the intelligence report had indicated, was a leading Taliban munitions
expert, one of the head trainers who instructed cell leaders and their underlings
in the deadly craft of improvised explosive device (IED) making.
With the communications check complete, Duco sat tucked between Seth’s
knees, his chest rising and falling at a slightly agitated rate as he reacted to the
others’ heightened sense of anticipation. The copilot radioed that they were
several clicks from the landing zone (LZ). In their briefing, they’d learned that
they’d have to fast-rope in; no LZ large enough or flat enough to accommodate
three helos was in range. Seth stood and commanded Duco to do the same. Seth
turned his back and waited. The platoon chief stepped forward and squatted in
front of Duco before wrapping his arms around the dog’s rear end and chest.
Duco remained alert but impassive while he was being strapped into the harness
on Seth’s back.
Seth felt a thwack on his shoulder, a signal that he and Duco were good to go.
Seth spent the next few moments making his way to the end of the line, checking
the cams on his descenders, before stepping out of the MH-60’s bay into the
darkness. The only sound was the rush of wind past his ears and the high-pitched
whirring sound of the rope snaking through the device. After unhooking the line,
Seth waited for another team member to release Duco. He grabbed the dog’s
lead, double-checked the harness, and proceeded to the head of the formation.
Behind him, the other men moved out of their defensive perimeter positions to
follow Seth and Duco, all of them careful to maintain their spacing discipline.
The SEAL Team members were all on comms, but Duco didn’t need anyone to
tell him what to do. All his years of training and experience, coupled with years
of genetic fine tuning and his honed instincts, had been held at bay on the flight
in and were now released.
Steadily moving at a pace between a lope and a trot, with his broad snout
alternately to the ground and lifted above his shoulder to pick up any target odor,
Duco worked along a snakelike path. He’d been trained to detect explosives and
was at the head of the line sniffing out the possible locations of IEDs or
munitions caches. His nose flaring and recessing like a beating heart, Duco led
the platoon on into the night.
Even though it was pitch-dark, Seth and the others trusted that Duco’s keen
senses wouldn’t fail him or them. They all may not have known that a dog’s
extraordinary exteroception, its ability to detect stimuli from the environment
(including light, sound, chemical agents [taste and smell], heat, cold, and
pressure), made the team members’ night-vision goggles seem like tissue-roll
binoculars by comparison, but they trusted Duco based on past experience. More
than anything the bond of trust that existed between canine and soldier was once
again being tested and ultimately proven worthy.
After several clicks maneuvering along a dirt road, Seth noticed something
change in Duco’s demeanor. The handler had anticipated seeing Duco signal that
he’d detected the odor of explosives. Normally, if Duco had smelled explosives,
he would have signaled detection by flagging his tail, hoisting it straight up and
making it quiver from side to side, nearly like a rattlesnake alerting others to its
presence. Along with that, he would become more intense, his movements more
rapid, as he zeroed in on the exact location, his body acting as a kind of needle
on a scale indicating that the concentration of molecules he was picking up was
on the increase.
What Seth saw instead was Duco’s body go rigid, assuming the posture of a
show dog—head lifted, front shoulders at attention and stretched forward, his
hips similarly straining forward. Seth also felt that strain on the leash and heard
Duco emit a low whiny whimper.
Duco was letting the rest of the team know that they weren’t alone.
Seth immediately called out, “Hey, Duco.” The dog looked at him briefly and
then resumed his intense staring into the darkness. Seth let the rest of the men
know that he was releasing Duco. They knew there was only one reason for that:
Duco had detected the presence of other humans. They immediately fell out and
assumed an antiambush formation, finding cover behind rocks and trees. Seth
waited a moment, touched Duco on the flank and felt the tautness of his muscles,
