I'm Lost

As the Assistant Flight Chief, I was in charge of keeping the records for all the dogs.  I scheduled what posts all of the dog teams would patrol each night, the hours they worked, recorded their obedience training, attack training, on-post training and probably other things I can no longer remember. The Air Force was good at keeping records.

Once a week the Flight Chief had a night off and I ran the flight. Each dog had to have on-post alert training twice a year. That meant that I had to run two on-post problems almost every night I ran the flight. It helped the night go by quickly. This also allowed the crazy medic that rode around with me time to chat with the closest tower guard to the post where I was running the post problem.

I liked to run the post problems in the Juliette sector because it had been cleared of brush and was just tall grass. At guard mount, I always informed whoever it was that they were getting a post problem that night. It was my routine to call the dog handler and inform him that I was ready to start the post problem. I did this for three reasons.  The was first totally selfish; I did not want the handler shooting me because he thought I was the enemy. The second reason I called him before walking on his post was so that he would know when I was coming and not mistake his dog's alert for me when it was really the enemy. The third reason I called the handler was so that the dog and handler had a greater chance of success. The purpose of the on-post training was to keep the alerting skills sharp for both the dog and the handler. It is just as important that the handler be in tune with how his dog alerts as it is for the dog to find the intruder. I would check the wind, locate the handler and then set up the post problem for a high rate of success. If a dog did poorly, I would document it and rerun the problem in a different area of the base in a few days.

Now let me explain why I titled this story I'm Lost. On the night in question, I went to the tower closest to the post where I was going to run the post problem to see if I could see the dog handler. I saw him and then called him on the radio and told him that I was ready to start the post problem. His response puzzled me, "I'm not ready. I'm lost."  Really, how lost could he be? His post was 100 to 150 yards long and was 50 feet wide starting at the fence line. The fence line was about 150 feet from the perimeter road. There is a post marker on the perimeter road and a matching one at the fence line. He was dropped off at his post marker, he was supposed to walk to the fence line and then patrol between the marker for his post and the marker for the next post. How do you get lost on a post just covered with tall grass?

I told him to stay where he was. I walked out to him and asked what was happening. He said that after he got off the truck he set down his duffle bag someplace and walked out to the fence line. When he went back to get his duffle, he could not find it. He had been wandering around looking for it and now did not know where he was or even whether he was on his post. He was still between the markers for his post, so I walked him to the perimeter road and found his post marker. I had him start a sweep 50 feet wide and we started working our way towards the fence line. His dog found the duffle bag in a small barren patch of ground next to a rock about halfway between the fence and the perimeter road. A perfect spot to take a break and eat your C-rations, if you could find it again.

I had the handler grab his duffle and we went out to the fence line. We walked his post so that he knew where it started and ended. I told him that we would run the post problem later in the week. This handler and dog was one of the dog teams that were on a low-priority post the night we were attacked. The Kennel Master thought I should have used this handler to sweep the search area for the enemy. (If the last two sentences do not make sense, read the previous story, Red Alert, Part 2.)

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