It wasn’t meant to be this way. The recruitment posters didn’t say anything about living in trenches overrun with rats, being knee deep in water, slowly dying, in pain from wounds too terrible to even look at. As he feels himself getting weaker with no hope of rescue, his thoughts drift back to family and friends, the loved ones he has left behind. As he accepts his fate and knowing that no medic is likely to reach him, he makes peace with his God and closes his eyes.
A faint rustling sound brings him back to consciousness, and out of the darkness emerges salvation, but it comes in an unlikely form. There, silhouetted against the blackness, is THE DOG. He is carrying panniers with a red cross emblazoned on the side, and his presence means that the soldier is no longer alone. The wounded man reaches out to THE DOG, strokes his fur, the animal accepts this without flinching, the soldier then examines the contents of the panniers and finds dressings for his wounds and water. Exhausted by this exertion, the man lies down and offers no resistance as THE DOG tears off a piece of his uniform with its teeth and silently disappears. An hour later, the man is astounded to see his rescuer return alongside human medics, complete with a stretcher. Knowing that moving the injured man will cause great pain and being aware that the mission must be completed in total silence, the wounded soldier is given an army issue belt on which to bite down so he makes no sound that will alert the enemy nearby. The stretcher bearers take the soldier silently to their medical station, where he is treated. He will survive and return to his family.
THE DOG disappears, his task complete. He then heads out into the night again as he searches for more wounded troops. It doesn’t take long, as his keen hearing directs him towards the soft moaning coming from close by.
This soldier lies in a bomb crater, he is partially submerged, he is wet, cold and feels very tired. He isn’t any soldier, his armband shows his status, he is a medic, but the skills that have saved so many lives will not save his own. Glancing down, he sees his own catastrophic injuries; no surgeon in the world knows how to repair the damage that his body has suffered. Like his fellow soldier, the medics’ thoughts turn to home, the family he will never see again, knowing that they would get the dreaded knock on the door as a uniformed lad on a red bike delivers the telegram that the relatives of dead troops receive. As he stares up at the sky, the realisation hits him that he will die. What a way to go, alone in a hole in a foreign land, not even sure why he is there.
As his tentative grip on life slowly starts to dissipate, there is a sound, the medic is too sick to even look, to even move a muscle, it is agony, but as he raises his eyes, he sees, standing there on the edge of the crater, is THE DOG. The Mercy canine slowly slides down the side of the crater and lies down next to the stricken man
As he reaches the injured soldier, THE DOG knows that for this mortally wounded soldier, the end is nigh. The inevitable will occur soon; there is no hope. He will succumb to his wounds, but as THE DOG has been trained to do, he will wait, and as the soldier finally passes, he will feel the animal’s soft fur, feel the warmth of the canine’s body and feel the animal’s gentle breath in his face. He will not die alone.
During 1914-1918, in a conflict described as the war to end all wars, there were some 10,000 Mercy Dogs. They were used by all sides, trained to ignore the enemy combatants, and they would venture out into the darkness every night. Their mission is to find their own wounded soldiers, to bring them emergency medical packs and water to drink and sometimes a small amount of alcohol. To return with a piece of clothing and lead medics to the casualty. If the patient was close to death, the mercy dog stayed by their side so that they would not die alone.
They are credited with saving thousands of lives on both sides, but the dogs paid a high price as the casualty rate among the Mercy Dogs was horrendous. Seven thousand lost their lives in a conflict which to this day most people have no understanding.
The Mercy Dogs were also known as Casualty dogs, Ambulance dogs and Red Cross dogs.
In the UK, this Sunday, known as Remembrance Sunday, we pay homage to those who gave their lives so we might be free.
Let us also remember the dogs and other animals that also served and made the ultimate sacrifice; they didn’t ask for medals, they just turned up, did the job and reminded us what commitment and loyalty are all about.
“To the forlorn and despairing wounded soldier the coming of the Red Cross dog is that of a messenger of hope.”
Oliver Hyde
With subtitle or not?