The old sergeant was walking across the compound of their FOB when one of the goon squad yelled at him.
“Hey Pappy! Dog’s food arrived. Being unloaded now.”
The old sergeant grunted under his breath and moved on. However he stopped and went to the supply trucks. Sure enough bag after bag of dog food was being unloaded.
It dawned on the old sergeant that he had never fed dog. Gave him water sure but food?
He went out to the perimeter fence and called Dog who came running like some huge bear. And with teeth just as big. “Hey Dog. Got a question for ya. You don’t look like you’ve ever missed a meal and I was just wondering who feeds you?”
Dog growled low in his throat and the sound seemed to reverberate through the camp.
“Well, you don’t have to be a smartass. I was just asking a question. There’s a load of dog food being unloaded so I guess I’ll have the corporal take care of you from now on.”
Dog, never one for hiding his emotions went directly to a pallet of dog food and proceeded to urinate on it.
The old sergeant just shook his head and moved on. He spotted the Padre talking with a couple of the men. He waited until the Padre started to move off and called him over.
“Hey Padre. Got a question for you. Do you know who feeds dog?”
The Padre laughed. “Pappy I thought you did. No one here would even think about it. They like their hands right where they are thank you very much.”
Grimacing the sergeant started to become more and more curious. The Padre was right. No one would dare feed dog for fear of getting their heads bit off. And he had been trained long ago to never accept food from a stranger.
Thanking the Padre the sergeant began a search of their FOB. No one admitted to feeding dog and had no idea where he ate.
He poured a huge bowl of the dog food that had been brought in that day and shoved it over to animal. Dog sniffed, snorted and dropped his chin on a paw bored with the whole idea. Becoming more and more frustrated the sergeant finally decided he would keep an eye on dog.
He had to eat sometime and the sergeant was bound and determined to find out how and where.
Since Dog stayed pretty much in sight during the day, the sergeant decided to do some night duty until he found out what he needed to know.
Night after night Dog lay with one eye open watching the sergeant as if waiting for an opportunity to go on his nightly ventures. The sergeant slept with one eye open too and was determined that Dog was not going to win. He had not seen him eat all week and figured the game had to end sometime soon.
By the latter part of the week Pappy began to feel like a mud-bogged tank---he was getting nowhere and wearing out fast. Yet, Dog was going at full speed, in fact, he had taken down two terrorist strapped with bombs earlier that day. No sleep, no food, how was Dog keeping up?
The next day while out on patrol the skies raged with artillery smoke as the enemy tried to move in closer to their FOB. The Old Sergeant had not seen a day like this one for several weeks. Doc had too many waiting to get bandaged and the Padre had been on his knees too many times calling on God for help.
That night they returned to their compound. It was way into the night before the sergeant kicked off his boots and bent down to pull the bottle of Jack out from under his desk. Tipping his head back to take a full swallow, he suddenly realized Dog was gone. “Why that---!”
The Old Sergeant slammed the bottle down and pulled his boots back on. Nobody gets ahead of the sergeant and for sure Dog wasn’t going to either.
The sergeant raced out the door and fell head first into the sand when his too-tired body refused to work. The ground meeting his face was a rude awakening and he dug his hand into the sand to ward off the pain. And though the night was dark and the moon still shadowed with smoke from the day’s battles, the picture he saw a few feet ahead of him was clear and would forever be embedded into his memory.
“Dog?”
Dog jerked his head and stared eye to eye with the sergeant. The dog’s stance spoke of ownership in control of his prey, but this time Dog had a tender almost sad look about him. He began to drag a small body toward the old sergeant.
Pappy moved slowly forward to meet him. What had Dog done? Up to this time the animal had never harmed the local children. Yet he had the shirt of a little one gripped in his teeth.
“Dog! Down!”
Dog dropped what the sergeant thought to be his prize and then lowered his head and laid it upon the young boy’s back. The sergeant threw caution to the wind and quickly reached down to see if he was too late. He felt a pulse so weak it caused his knees to buckle. “Doc! Doc! Get over here now!”
His hollering drew the attention of a few more of his men and they began to gather around. “Get back all of ya, give the doc some room!”
The old sergeant watched and waited. Dog never moved from the young boy while the doc worked.
“Sarge, come here.” Doc’s voice was strained. “Look----”
The sergeant had been through many things in his life, had even bragged about the time he had pulled his own tooth with his Leatherman in one hand while shooting a carbine from the other.
But now, one pain-filled tear slid down his cheek when he began to realize what had happened. Dog had not harmed the boy, but rather was protecting the one who had been feeding him. In the boy’s hand was a dog biscuit. He had evidently been hurt and Dog was dragging him into safety.
“Doc, will the kid make it?” Pappy asked.
“Yeah Pappy. But Dog got him here just in time. It looks as if he has been starving to death.”
Pappy stared at the kid. “You mean to tell me he starved just so he could have Dog as a friend and feed him?”
“Looks that way Pappy.”
Dog jumped up and returned dragging a bag of dog food trying his best to feed the kid.
“Friendship meant more to him than his own life.” Pappy just watched as the evac came in, and he never said a word when dog got on board with the kid.
A month later the orphanage in Missouri received another child. The note said: “Take good care of this kid. He values friends more than life.”
By:
Steve Newton
Janie Orman
Copyright 2006
Write Pappy at:
DOG FOOD
An Old Sergeant Story
All content property of Steven J. Newton and
The Silver Star Families of America Copyright 2005-2007
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Why don't you toss a coin or two this way to help honor our wounded?
We'll buy some banners and give to 'em--- so they know we ain't forgot what
they did for us.
Thank ya---
Pappy
