Isabel George

Dog Soldiers: Love, loyalty and sacrifice on the front line


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the list was endless. Sergeant Dodds felt safe working with Sasha, the dog who was earning herself a reputation: ‘If it’s hidden, Sasha will find it.’

      Kenneth already knew Sasha was highly skilled. He had served with Marianne in Northern Ireland and the competitive friends had often verbally sparred over training techniques. Both were passionate about their dogs and there was mutual respect for each other’s skills. It was what they were there to do but the work was intense and achieved in temperatures that could hit a relentless 40–50 degrees during the working day. The soldiers could look forward to going home on R and R, but the dogs were doing it all to be rewarded with a tennis ball, a meal and, if they were out in the desert, a good rest alongside their handler. The dogs were soldiers the same as the handlers – but the rewards were different. It was the ability to maintain the high drive to work and search without wavering in efficiency and success that put Sasha in a class of her own.

      Sasha was holding her own against the heat and the workload. It was the height of summer – the period recognised as the ‘fighting season’ – with just 14 dogs to service regiments operating in seven locations. Everyone was under pressure. IEDs (Improvised Explosive Devices) were now the preferred weapon of the Taliban and just weeks earlier Ken and Diesel had been thrown from an Army Snatch Land Rover. Ken crawled out of the overturned vehicle covered in dust but unhurt; Diesel had injured his paw in the explosion and was taken back to Bastion for treatment and rest.

      While Diesel recuperated, Reece became the dog in Ken’s life, but it wasn’t long before the dynamic duo were back on the front line protecting and saving life and limb.

      Andy’s new role was imminent and Kenneth was writing about going home but he was still waiting for confirmation of the date. Trouble was, with everything that was going on, the chances of it happening were looking increasingly slim. The intensity of the work was starting to show on Diesel and Ken had to report his concerns to his Sergeant Major, Frank Holmes. Diesel was seeking shade, and not just when he was on his downtime. He knew his dog was a tough cookie who had survived IEDs and being thrown from a Snatch, but if he was fading in the heat he would fail to detect. It was time for Diesel to take a rest.

      And that was how Ken Rowe and Sasha came together. Ken needed a good reliable dog, and Andy was heading for a new role of Ops Sergeant, leaving Sasha up for grabs. Matching the right dog with the right handler in the right location wasn’t Ken’s decision but he put in a request for Sasha anyway. Frank Holmes felt it was a good match and Martyn Thompson headed out to FOB Inkerman to deliver Sasha to Ken. Moving the dog was considered easier than moving the man – all they needed was the change of dog for the intense weapons and search work ahead. It wasn’t long before they were considered the best team in the area at the time, and Sasha continued to locate weapons, ammunition and IEDs, giving Ken plenty to call in to his commanding officer.

      By the time Ken’s July leave was confirmed, he and Sasha had been supporting 2 Para for over a month and the pair were very much part of the team. It had been a particularly hazardous operation from the start and it was taking its toll on the troops. The new threat, suicide bombers, had taken the lives of three of their men. Until then small-arms fire and the RPG had been the insurgents’ weapons of choice but the arrival of the IED and the suicide bomber had made the fighting game more sinister and blurred the rules of engagement. It made the job of the dog and the soldier harder, too.

      Ken was happy that Sasha was still providing consistent cover even during operations that could last ten to twelve hours in searing temperatures. She was just as enthusiastic as she had been on her first day, which meant Marianne Hay’s training and the dog’s own determination and intelligence were paying off. The bond that Sasha and Ken had formed in the relatively short time they had been paired was clear for all to see, and the men of 2 Para were relieved to have the dog and handler head their patrols.

      Twenty-four hours before he was due to go on leave, Ken Rowe put a call in to Bastion for a situation report. The handler who was due to replace him was sick. This wasn’t the news he was hoping for and it wasn’t good news for 2 Para either. Ken didn’t like the thought of the patrol going out without the support of a search dog. They were in bandit country and everyone was very much aware of the value of having a dog on the ground. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t leave them. He lobbied his unit to allow him to stay until the changeover could take place. Then he could go on his R and R with some peace of mind.

      His request to stay on was granted.

      Throughout that fatal day the patrol had been shadowed by a group of insurgents. Sasha was already known to them; they were aware of the ‘yellow dog’ and her ability to locate their deadly weapons. She must have foiled hundreds of their plots and discovered tons of explosives and ammunition and it was no secret that having a bomb dog on duty reassured the troops.

      The patrol was just three kilometres from FOB Inkerman when the enemy struck from three angles. As Ken and Sasha made for the roadside ditch, Sasha was blown off her feet – she had been targeted by RPG direct fire – and separated from Ken. Eyewitnesses reported that the brave dog rose out of the dust, shook herself down and ran towards her handler. Ken gathered her in to take cover with the others behind a low wall but a second RPG found them both. Man and dog fell together.

      The exchange was fast and furious, with visibility restricted by the gun smoke, dust and debris kicked up by the enemy RPGs. In the kind of silence that creeps in when the battle subsides came the cry:

      ‘Man down! Man down!’

      The medic was already rushing to where Ken lay on the ground. A stretcher appeared alongside and the bearers lifted Ken swiftly and cleanly into it with Sasha’s body at his side. It was a race against time to get them both to an area of safety before the team was spotted and picked off by an opportunist sniper.

      Out of the chaos a Land Rover screeched to a halt. It was out of sight but just hearing the urgency of the engine was a comfort of a kind as the stretcher was hurried in its direction. ‘Come on, lift! Let’s go, go go!’

      The Land Rover took off in a cloud of dust in the direction of FOB Inkerman, with everyone on board hoping they were still dealing with a casualty and nothing worse. The vehicle was jolting from side to side trying to cope with the scattered rocks which littered the dramatic rough terrain. Everyone was holding very tight onto their precious cargo.

      Suddenly the vehicle lurched and Sasha slipped from the stretcher. The loud gasp from the back alerted the driver to a problem but it was too risky to stop and Ken had to remain their priority. It was clear he needed urgent medical attention. They already feared when they loaded her onto the stretcher that it was too late for poor Sasha.

      The enemy was still out there and no doubt watching every move. They would have seen Sasha’s limp and lifeless body lying stranded and out of reach. The men could not risk more casualties: they had no choice but to leave her.

      Frank Holmes and Martyn Thompson waited at the hospital in Bastion for the helicopter bringing Ken in from Inkerman. They knew what they had to do when it arrived, but right at that moment, as Frank says, it was the constant stream of casualties that added to the fear and trepidation:

      ‘The Paras had had another bad time of it and, from what I can remember, there seemed to be a whole lot of casualties pouring off the choppers. It must have been a hell of a day and I admit it was quite unnerving sitting there wondering what devastation we still had to go through.’

      Frank heard another Chinook arrive and hoped it would be the one they were waiting for and for this part of the proceedings to be over.

      Frank and Martyn went in to ID the body. They confirmed that it was Lance Corporal Kenneth Michael Rowe RAVC.

      ‘As I looked at Ken lying there, I know it sounds odd, but a part of me was relieved that I could honestly tell his mother, when I called her in the next few hours, that he looked as if he was sleeping. As for the rest of it – I could not possibly explain.’

      The Union Flag was lowered to half mast at Bastion. Sadly this was something that was happening more often during the summer of Op Herrick 8, but for the men and women of the RAVC’s dog soldiers it was something they hoped they would never