I was 18 years old when I arrived in Southeast Asia. Just a kid,
full of pride, fearlessness and daring all wrapped up in a U.S. Air
Force Security Police K-9 officer's uniform.
Having been at Ubon Royal Thai Air Force
Base for one week, my in-processing to the base was complete, and it
was time to go to work. As we traveled the five miles to the kennels
I looked at the 20 guys with their "game day" faces on, dressed
in camouflage and armed like soldiers. The berets had been put away.
No more badges or handcuffs, no more blue ascots or spit-shinned boots.
We were no longer security policemen, we were American fighting men--the
Air Forces' infantry.
On arrival at the kennels the crescendo
of dog barking was at its peak. The dogs heard us coming and they knew
it was time to go to work. I had met Hunce, an 85-pound black and tan
German Shepherd just one day before. Our introduction went, well, fairly
okay, I guess.
It only took 45 minuets of sitting on
the concrete kennel floor, outside of his cage, "sweet talking"
to the raised fur and pearly whites of my new companion. His ferociousness
impressed me, scared me and comforted me all the same time. I thought
that when--and if--he accepts me, we would become a great K-9 team.
After more training
with Hunce, I was assigned my first post, called Kilo 2-7, at the southern
end of the base runway. This godforsaken piece of real estate was in
the middle of nowhere. Measuring 100 yards across by 50 yards deep,
as measured from the fence-line to the perimeter road. Behind me were
the 30-foot observation/gun towers and below them, the M60 machine
gun bunkers. I quickly realized I was in front of everyone's
weapons and that thought frightened me.
As
the K-9 truck pulled away I was left standing in total darkness, just
me and my new partner and an eerie silence. This indestructible 18-year-old
felt very vulnerable and scared. We stepped off the perimeter road,
heading for the fence-line. Hunce, as a seasoned veteran of Ubon and
having worked this post many times prior to me, led the way.
Hunce's
experience in working under these Ubon conditions proved itself almost
immediately. As he pulled me toward the fence, he suddenly stopped,
perked his ears, lifted his nose and abruptly changed our direction
of travel. Having just met this dog I was unaware how he would react
to an intruder, but I knew he was trying to tell me something--I just
didn't know what that was. Standing my ground, I turned on my flashlight
and searched the path ahead. Not fifteen feet away lay a coiled King
Cobra snake! Hunce made every effort to keep us away from this thing
and I learned my first lesson from this dog. He's the veteran--I'm
the rookie. Pay attention to the dog!
Completing the sweep of the post,
I decided it was time to sit down and take a break, but Hunce began
pulling on the leash. Now what? Remembering lesson #1, I had just gotten
up to look around when I felt the first bite. Ants! Red fire-breathing
ants were all over my leg. Lesson #2 is to never forget lesson #1.
This being my first night on duty, Hunce
and Kilo 2-7 were making quite an impression on me. Two things became
perfectly clear: (1) I loved this dog, and (2) I hate this place!
As the night wore on, Hunce and I got to know each other a little better.
I realized it was going to be this dog's skill that was going to get
me through the next 364 nights.
That first night's meal included a couple
of hard-boiled eggs. Without giving a thought to sharing anything with
Hunce, I dug in and Hunce lay quietly at my feet while I ate. Feeling
a little guilty, I reasoned that the vets had always told us to keep
our dogs on their prescribed meals. And bedsides, Hunce's breakfast
would be waiting for him as soon as we got off post.
Cracking and peeling the first egg I noticed
that Hunce rose to the sitting position and was watching me--intensely.
Paying no attention to him, I ate the egg and started on the second.
Suddenly, Hunce started to growl.
I put down the egg and got up to scan my surroundings. Hunce dove for
the box and inhaled the egg, shell and all.
I later learned from other handlers that
Hunce had been conditioned to get a hard-boiled egg every night. On
nights when the box lunch did not include them, he became a mean, angry
dog with a history of biting his handlers.
Lesson #3: always come to work with a hard-boiled egg!
As the sun came up and my shift drew to
a close, I came to the conclusion that I could survive this place as
long as I put my faith in my partner and allowed him to do what he has
been trained to do. If the lessons he taught me this first night were
an indication on how the rest of my tour of duty would go, I knew I
was in good hands... make that paws.
(Since his discharge, Williams has been a professional
fire officer and emergency medical technician with a Massachusetts fire
department).
Check out
Williams' Ubon photos!
and Apocalypse!
