Читать книгу D-day Dogs: Remarkable true stories of heroic dogs - Isabel George, Isabel George - Страница 6

‘What do you think about this fella? He enlisted with the name Brian, but he looks more like a Bing to me.’ Lance Corporal Ken Bailey was a dog lover, and his time with the Royal Army Veterinary Corps had convinced him that military working dogs were more than just fireside companions; they were capable of unstinting devotion to duty and exceptional courage. ‘Well, if you lot agree, we have a new recruit and we’re going to call him Bing.’ Ken looked directly into Bing’s big brown eyes as he said the name. ‘Bing! That’s a name to be proud of, lad, as you start your new life today.’

The War Dog Training School in Potters Bar was a legacy of the First World War, thanks to the persistence of a certain Colonel Ernest Richardson. After a long battle with the War Office this dog lover and career soldier eventually persuaded them to consider the vital role that military-trained dogs could play in the conflict, both on the home front and on the Western front. Richardson’s stubborn refusal to take no for an answer finally paid off and in 1916 he was given the go-ahead to set up the training school. Consequently, the British Army followed the example of the French, Belgians and Germans in adopting canine power to assist the military – dogs could be seen guarding ammunition depots, patrolling with the troops and running messages in the trenches.

Despite the success of the dog army in the Great War, it was again down to Colonel Richardson in 1939 to remind the Government that dogs could be serious weapons in the Second World War too. He was given permission to reopen the War Dog Training School and the public were asked to donate their pets for service. By April 1944 the school was just one of many military bases in the South of England preparing for D-Day. Plans for the invasion had been confirmed two months earlier, and the dogs were now very much part of a massive military deployment.

Bing was one of several Alsatians chosen for training, but of all of them he was the most striking. As the dogs emerged from the block of grim wooden kennels it was obvious that he stood head and shoulders above the rest. After a good brushing, his long, thick coat shone and its treacle and honey-coloured layers beamed through the darker fur. That first night away from home had been tough for some of the dogs. Ken was used to hearing the pining and barking that echoed through the night and into the morning. He didn’t know if Bing had been one of the homesick recruits – it would take a little time to recognise the pitch of his cry – but he did know that his dog was the most handsome of the bunch. Even Bing’s one slightly flopped-over ear didn’t spoil his good looks. ‘You really are a special dog, aren’t you, mate? I bet your owner is missing you. They’re probably wondering what you’re up to, but it’s OK, I’ll look after you. Now, let’s get you that breakfast you were promised.’

The dogs’ first day started the way every day in the Army would start from now on: an early-morning brush and an eye bath would be followed by a hearty breakfast, which included fresh meat, and because that disappeared in just a couple of gulps there was always a treat too – for Bing, at least. Ken had a good friend in the cookhouse who supplied the bones and offcuts that supplemented Bing’s daily rations, and as an experienced military dog trainer, Ken knew that bones could be a comforter while the dogs were in the kennels, especially in the early days when they must have been particularly missing their homes.

After food and fuss, the next essential was a long walk and Bing was not disappointed. Ken wanted to get the full measure of this dog, because he only had two weeks to get him ready for active service. If Bing didn’t have the character and the drive necessary to become a military working dog then he would be going back home to Leicester. Bing’s good looks were not going to make him a war dog. He needed to show Ken that he had something exceptional to offer.

It didn’t take Bing long to get used to his new name. From their first walk together Ken tested his new dog’s recall, and each time Bing ‘answered’ to his name he was rewarded with a bit of broken biscuit (most likely courtesy of Ken’s mate in the cookhouse). Food was a great incentive for Bing – this was a dog that had never refused a treat in his life – and over the two weeks of intensive training, he certainly earned his biscuits. He learned to walk through walls of noise: repeated hails of rapid fire, shells exploding at his feet and shrapnel slicing the air around him. The smell of war was new to him too. The stench of rotten eggs rose out of the smoke on the ground and engulfed Bing as he raised his muzzle to avoid it. ‘Good boy, Bing,’ Ken repeated as his dog continued to find his way through the obstacles to claim his biscuit treat.

Bing passed his initial training with flying colours. Alongside his fellow graduates Monty, Flash and Rob, Bing became a fully qualified patrol dog. But this small team of dogs had made quite an impression on Ken and his fellow handlers, and the men had an idea they wanted to discuss with the paratroopers. Ken recognised something very special in Bing: while Bing thought he was playing a game, Ken saw a dog with a strong streak of determination and a keen need to please. Playing a game of hide and seek was always a favourite at home, so Bing had no trouble with Ken’s ‘military’ version, which included finding guns, ammunition and wooden mines. The smell of explosives became associated with a tasty reward. As long as there was a biscuit at the end of the ‘find’, Bing was a happy dog. The next level of training, however, would be something new to all of them. They were now dogs in search of their ‘wings’.

*

‘What manner of men are those who wear the red beret? … They have jumped from the air and by doing so have conquered fear. They are, in fact, men apart. Every man an Emperor.’

Field Marshal ‘Monty’ Montgomery

There was a new game that Ken was keen for the dogs to play. This time the training ground was set away from the area the dogs had become familiar with over the past two weeks. Dominating a runway was the fuselage of an aircraft. The dogs were encouraged to climb inside and sniff around it as they got used to moving through its body. ‘Now, Bing, lad, this is a new game, but it’s a really good game. I think you’ll like it. Just follow me and we will be fine. And don’t worry, I have plenty of biscuits in my pocket!’

Encouraging a dog to jump out of an aeroplane at several thousand feet was a job that Ken Bailey and his colleagues had to be good at. Ken had developed his own routine from his first jump with the only female ‘para dog’ recruit currently in the team, Ranee. Using a lump of meat weighing two pounds, Ken managed to keep Ranee’s attention the entire time. She sat at his heels as Ken took his place at the head of the queue of men waiting to parachute down. Wearing her own parachute pack, and without hesitating for a second, Ranee followed Ken out of the plane and even wagged her tail as she descended!

Ken later reported that he saw Ranee’s face as she was in the air and although she looked bewildered, she wasn’t showing any signs of panic and looked towards him when she heard her name. Ranee landed ahead of her handler, rolled and then stood up, making no attempt to run away. Ken landed forty feet away but ran immediately to his dog, released her and rewarded her with the chunk of meat. Jump. Land. Eat. That was Ken’s routine, and with every jump the dogs made they appeared to enjoy it more.

The four dogs and their handlers lined up, one behind the other, in the training fuselage. Man and dog huddled close together, the dogs showing their good manners by not squabbling as they sniffed and weaved around their handlers’ legs. Ken moved forward towards one of the open sides and then jumped through and rolled onto the tarmac outside, then encouraged Bing to follow him. Leaping out as ordered, Bing received plenty of fuss and a biscuit for his obedience. ‘Good boy, Bing!’ Ken ran his hands through his dog’s deep coat and looked into his sharp, shiny eyes. ‘That’s the way to do it, boy, and although you have no idea what I’m talking about, you will be doing this all over again, but from several thousand feet in the air!’

As they walked away side by side neither could resist a glance back at the fuselage. Ken had every faith in Bing. ‘I just wish I could tell you more, boy, tell you what’s in store, but it seems it’s one great big secret right now. All I do know is that we both need to do our best and everything else will fall into place. Come on, I’m sure there’s a treat waiting for you back at the camp.’

Bing and his pals were now a very real and important part of the rapidly consolidating plans for D-Day. As trainee para dogs they were destined to be assigned to the vital Airborne Divisions, which would be the first to land on French soil. Flying over the Channel in the belly of a Dakota aircraft, they would parachute into occupied territory with the men and act as scout and patrol, clearing the way and warning of enemy presence on the ground.

There was no doubt in Ken’s mind that the plan would work, but at this stage of the training he had one major concern: in the Dakota there was a huge risk of the dogs being blown from the side openings into the rear tail. He asked for the model of the plane to be reconsidered. It was decided that the Albemarle, with an opening in the floor, would be a better and safer option, and so the dogs resumed training.

‘FIT EQUIPMENT!’

A blast of air burst through the open hatch in the belly of the plane as the man in grey shouted the first order. Ken leant down and fitted the parachute pack to Bing’s harness. Bing stumbled a little, as he hadn’t felt the weight of a packed ’chute before.

‘SOUND OFF FOR EQUIPMENT CHECK!’

Ken, as first in line, responded, ‘One OK. Two OK,’ for himself and Bing. And so it followed down the line of handlers now sitting on the floor until the final response: ‘Eight OK.’

Ken took up position sitting on the edge of the hatch, his feet dangling in the gap. A harsh gust of wind blew him and the others back. Bing took the blast of wind in his face. His ears shot back and his snout wrinkled against the cold air, but he sat firm.

‘HOOK UP!’

Ken lifted the hook from under the flap on Bing’s parachute bag and attached it to the static line wire above his head before clipping his own hook onto the wire. Bing watched his every move. With the hooks connecting the parachute bags to the static line, when man and dog jumped, the bags would be pulled off, releasing the ’chutes underneath.

‘RED ON!’

The glow of the red signal light hovered above their heads, creating a fiery gloom. The men and dogs shifted to hold steady as the aircraft adjusted altitude.

‘GREEN ON … GO!’

Ken launched himself out of the hole. Bing followed.

Down. Down. His legs dangling from under his harness, Bing swayed from side to side as he drifted like a giant leaf towards the ground. He looked for Ken, who was falling directly beneath him. He could see his handler’s lips move, but all he could hear was the rush of the cold air around his head. Ken fixed his eyes on Bing and as his body turned in the air he mouthed comforting and encouraging words: ‘Come on, boy, stay calm, I’m here for you. Not long now and we’ll be together.’ The ground was rising to meet them and Ken had one wish – to see the ’chute open and watch his dog touch down without a scratch.

Pulled upwards as his parachute was released, Bing shot away from Ken, who couldn’t help but raise his arms to gesture some reassurance. ‘I’m here, lad. Don’t worry, I’ll catch you!’ Ken landed firmly on the grassed area as planned, and seconds later Bing sped into a safe landing just a few yards away. Running over, Ken grabbed his large, furry dog and gave him a massive hug. ‘You great big amazing lump of dog! Come here and give your dad a kiss!’ Bing didn’t need to be asked twice to join in the fun, and in no time at all the two were rolling around in the silk and strings of Bing’s ’chute. As Monty, Flash and Rob followed, the celebrations became infectious, even though it meant a lot of detangling for the handlers!