In the Line of Fire

by Collins, Ace;

  The first night went well. Sinbad made no noise and slept like a baby. Yet at just past six bells, as the men were assembling on the deck for muster, the dog began to bark. The Chief Boatswain’s Mate had a bit more pull than other seamen, so when Sinbad announced his presence Rother explained the situation. After laying out the facts, he then implied that, because of circumstances, the dog was meant to be on the Campbell. It was as if ordained by Providence. Unimpressed, the captain demanded Sinbad be brought up on deck. As the dog sat at the officer’s feet, the man in charge made a full inspection complete with several deep belly scratches. With the anxious crew looking on, he then stood and announced Sinbad could stay if the dog learned the discipline needed for a life at sea. If that were not accomplished during the week, he would be put off at the first port of call.

  Over the course of the next seven days the sailors took turns hurrying their new mascot through obedience training. He was taught to stay, sit, shake, and speak. Sinbad also learned to recognize when men were on duty and off, as well as being taught what parts of the ship would always be off limits to the pooch. Showing intelligence the men did not expect, the dog quickly mastered the skills needed to be a part of the crew. At the next port of call Sinbad was even allowed to leave with Rother and his friends to visit some local eating establishments, but more important, was also welcomed back on when the leave was over.

  As the ship’s mascot, Sinbad developed some unique habits that fully cemented his standing as a seaman. He preferred the company of regular sailors to officers. In fact, when carried into the captain’s room for visits, he darted out as quickly as his feet hit the floor. He loved navy chow, drank black coffee each morning with his breakfast, and was known to share a drink or two with his comrades when on shore leave. In fact, he became a regular visitor to the bars and saloons at various ports of call. He also had his own hammock. He even learned to drag his bag out for inspections. The dog assembled each morning with the men, stood for roll call, and in time was assigned a duty station.

  During his first year on the Campbell, it was decided that Sinbad was such an important part of the crew he needed to become an official member of the US Coast Guard. The crew filled out enlistment papers signed with a paw print and sent them in to Washington. Seeing this as good publicity, the Coast Guard returned the enlistment document with a request for a service record and a photo. When everything was completed Sinbad was issued a service number and a card that allowed him to visit the Red Cross stations around the globe. His rank was Sea Dog 1st Class.

  Due to his official status and the Coast Guard’s publicity machine, the little pooch was soon featured in both newsreels and magazine stories. Wherever and whenever the Campbell docked, newspaper reporters turned out to snap Sinbad’s picture as well as gain an interview, which in most cases meant a bark from the canine and a few words of praise from a crewman. As his fame grew, Sinbad was given the key to cities, met mayors, and was toasted at bars on both sides of the Atlantic. His favorite port was Londonderry, Ireland, where locals were always ready with biscuits and the Red Cross Station treated him like royalty. It was also Londonderry where Sinbad was given an appreciation banquet at the historic Guild Hall. There, dressed in their finery, men and women who were already fighting World War II united to forget battles and revel in the antics of a sea dog.

  What was displayed at the banquet in Ireland in essence defined Sinbad’s life. He was not heroic in the nature of other war dogs; he was, rather, a member of a crew. Like a misguided teen, he didn’t spin around on command, never saluted officers, and was not any good at taking written messages from one part of the 320-foot-long ship to the other. During rough weather, he didn’t battle the waves that spilled over the deck or athletically balance on the bridge as the vessel rolled; he went below to his bunk. His jobs were simply to offer relief from long hours of boredom, to provide a sense of family to those who were homesick, and generate a few laughs when worn spirits had all but given out. The one thing of real canine value Sinbad was known for was playing with a large metal washer. The crew would roll the washer along the deck and the dog would retrieve it. After that game lost its allure, a seaman would place the washer on Sinbad’s nose and he would toss it up into the air and catch it in his mouth. It was the latter trick that fascinated bar patrons on both sides of the Atlantic and led to the men of the Campbell being treated to rounds of free drinks.

  The first blemish on Sinbad’s record occurred in frigid waters. Just after Denmark had fallen to Nazi Germany in World War II, the Campbell was ordered to sail to Greenland. The Coast Guard cutter’s mission was to make sure the Germans did not set up any type of bases on this Danish-owned piece of land. Fearing occupation by the Nazis, those who lived in this little known and frigid world welcomed the visitors with open arms. Though there was little to see, the Americans did their best to enjoy a region with far more snow and ice than people while counting their blessings that the US was not having to wage war.

  As always, Sinbad was sent ashore with the first landing party. After frequenting a few pubs with his mates, he decided to explore. Because he had been born in one of the world’s largest cities and raised on a ship, the dog was likely not prepared for the rural environment that now beckoned him. In the summer, Greenland’s wide-open spaces were filled with grazing sheep. With few predators, most of these sheep wandered from hillside to valley without supervision. Likely not understanding what these creatures were, Sinbad raced up to meet them causing the flock to run away. This game continued throughout the afternoon with the only breaks coming when the dog returned to town to get something to eat and grab a bit of sleep. Once he was completely refreshed and sporting a full belly, Sinbad then returned to the country and his version of the game of tag.

  Over the course of a week, the most famous dog in the US Coast Guard chased hundreds of sheep and in time the game Sinbad was playing became deadly. The dog literally ran a half dozen sheep so hard they died. Hundreds of others grew so nervous they quit eating. When caught in the act, angry farmers returned the dog to town, and sailors spirited him out of the jail and smuggled him back to the Campbell. This action literally saved the dog’s life. If he’d been detained on shore the farmers of Greenland would have demanded he be put to death. This episode marked one of the first times in US history that Uncle Sam also paid the bill for the death of sheep during “combat.”

  Over the next four months, with only a rotating skeleton crew keeping watch on the Campbell, the men of the ship grew close to the people of Greenland. They learned to enjoy the food, the area’s unique games, and the harsh weather. But as World War II engulfed all of Europe, the cutter was needed as a symbol of American power in other areas. As a gesture of defiance to the Axis powers, in October 1940, the Campbell set sail for Lisbon, Portugal. The large, white ship would spend almost a half year in the old European port as a reminder to Hitler that one wrong move could bring another major player into the war.

  During his stay in the place Christopher Columbus had once lived, Sinbad was again granted shore leave. Over the course of the winter and into the early spring, the dog went along with crewmates on tours of villages, wineries, farms, museums, and castles. He walked along roads that were built by the Romans and entertained hundreds with his washer trick. Yet after an extended tour of Portugal, when a group of American sailors returned to the port of Lisbon, the dog began to mournfully bark. A few seconds later the sailors understood why Sinbad was so upset; the Campbell was no longer in port. As the panicked men raced down the dock, a local sailor caught them and explained a hurricane was headed their way and the cutter had sailed out to sea in an attempt to avoid the storm’s wrath. Meanwhile the city was battening down the hatches and folks along the shore were headed for higher ground. He suggested the Americans run the other way and look for shelter.

  As the seamen headed on foot back toward Lisbon, Sinbad, his eyes fixed on where he knew the Campbell was supposed to be, didn’t move. With his feet planted firmly
on the dock’s wooden planks, again and again he refused to follow when called. Sensing the dog was not going to obey orders, the men picked up a crying Sinbad and carried him back to the city where they discovered businesses closed, doors locked, and the streets deserted. As the winds grew stronger and the rains began, the sailors finally found refuge in a hotel. For hours, with Sinbad hiding under a bed, the hurricane rocked the coast and shook the building to its foundation. While windows broke, doors flew open, and water filled the streets, those in the hotel survived. Once the skies cleared, Sinbad and the men made the long trek back to the docks. The wreckage they observed was horrifying. Some ships had been pushed hundreds of feet up onto the shore and others were resting on the sides in the bay. Silently, worried that the Campbell might have suffered the same fate, the sailors looked toward the sea. As the hours passed the Americans’ spirits dropped. Then as the sun set Sinbad grew excited. He paced back and forth and barked. Suddenly hopeful, the men looked toward the horizon but saw nothing. Finally, while peering through binoculars one of the sailors was able to spot their cutter steaming toward Lisbon. After he shared the news, he looked down at Sinbad. How had the dog known the Campbell was safe and headed back to its assigned port? He couldn’t have seen it, so had he heard the ship or had he sensed it? Though often debated by the crew, no one would ever know how the dog had realized the ship was on its way home.

  From Lisbon the Campbell headed to Sicily and as usual Sinbad was the first to hit the shore when the ship docked, but when it came time to leave the dog wasn’t there. With orders to embark, the cutter headed back to the United States without the mascot. Several hours later men assigned to a navy destroyer discovered Sinbad on the dock. The US Navy brought the dog back to the States where he was reunited with his concerned crew.

  Another time, when leaving a US port, Sinbad again didn’t make it back to the Campbell before the ship left. He was spotted while the vessel was still in the harbor and a launch was sent to pick him up. On that occasion the captain declared the canine AWOL and tossed him in the brig for a couple of days.

  When the Campbell was assigned to sail to Casablanca, the dog once again hit the shore with the first landing party. When the men assigned to watch him ducked into a bar, Sinbad explored the city until finally getting picked up by the city’s dogcatcher. The Campbell was about to depart when the crew heard barking and noted the dog was racing toward the ship being chased by a man with a net. When the city official and the captain met, they shared their stories. It seemed that Sinbad’s chasing cats and begging for food had led to his arrest. Then when the dog heard the ship’s whistle blow he found a way to escape. After being assured the canine sailor would never again be let loose in Casablanca, the dogcatcher allowed the captain to take Sinbad on board.

  On another occasion the dog was roaming in Ireland and, as was now becoming routine, didn’t make it back in time for departure. The Campbell was over a half mile away from the dock when the dog appeared. As Sinbad furiously barked, the crew looked toward the captain. This time he shook his head and forbade a launch being used to pick up the animal. Realizing he was not going to be retrieved, Sinbad jumped into the water and began to swim. As he watched the animal frantically move through the water, the captain cursed, shook his head, and signaled for two of the sailors to go back and get the mascot in a launch. The long swim before he was plucked from the water must have made an impact; this would be the last time Sinbad was late for departure.

  While the missions across the Atlantic were always eventful, after December 7, 1941, they grew to be tense. In the course of just one day the mood changed, as did the routine. The Campbell was even repainted from white to gray and transferred to the US Navy. It was now a noisy den of activity that never shut down. And whenever anyone was on the deck, all eyes were on the water. Gun drills were conducted daily, discipline became more rigid, and shore leave was rare.

  As the US plunged more deeply into war, Sinbad’s role became more important. It was the dog that offered a break from the concerns and the worries of battle. Each time they saw the black, tan, and white mascot, it was almost like getting a letter from home. During the war men actually lined up to spend time with Sinbad and they sometimes drew lots to see who would get to feed him or have him sleep with them in their bunks. His antics provided a valuable source of entertainment and just the act of petting him brought a sense of security.

  As the war dragged on, the Campbell was assigned for convoy escort duty. When cargo and troop ships made their long, slow Atlantic crossing, the Coast Guard cutter was the guard dog. It would sniff out German U-boats and take them on as the convoy moved away to safety. During these battle operations, Sinbad had a custom-made helmet strapped onto his small head and was taken below. There he waited for the hostilities to end so he could return to deck and survey the damage.

  As skirmishes and battles came more often, the crew began to see Sinbad as a good luck charm. While other escort ships had been heavily damaged or sunk, the Campbell was a floating version of Superman; it fought, won, and then steamed away with only minor bruises. On February 22, 1943, as the ship battled the seas in the North Atlantic, that all changed. Through a light drizzle and fog, a German sub somehow snuck into position unnoticed. Before being spotted, the U-boat managed to launch a single torpedo that hit a Norwegian steamer. The ship was headed to the bottom as its crew jumped out into the frigid waters. The Campbell moved into position to rescue survivors only to discover the attack had been a ruse. The U-boat had hit the freighter as a way of getting the cruiser to slow down and move into range. With the sub on the surface, its crew opened fire and the Campbell responded in kind. Turning directly toward the Nazi U-boat, the cutter forced the sub to dive. After dropping depth charges and noting a large oil slick, the Campbell returned to its position guarding the convoy.

  Ever wary and now very much on guard, the Campbell didn’t just stake out a position and hold it. Instead it circled the convoy using every possible means to study the waters for the enemy. As the men focused on their instruments and used field glasses, Sinbad took a position next to one of the main guns. On this night the jovial dog was as quiet and focused as the crew. With his helmet still in place, the dog seemed ready for action.

  It was just after seven when the cutter spied another U-boat periscope. Changing course, the Campbell sped directly at the sea wolf. As the sub dropped into the deep, depth charges were released. One directly hit the German vessel. It appeared the battle had been won, but while the men celebrated, their dog remained tense. When one of the men spotted a second sub, the crew understood what Sinbad had somehow heard or sensed. On this night the German U-boats were operating in a pack.

  The next hour saw the Campbell’s guns blazing as the crew fought a war on the ocean’s surface followed by dropping scores of depth charges. Based on oil slicks the cutter destroyed at least four U-boats in the course of the battle. Yet Sinbad, who was still on the deck, was not in a celebratory mood. His senses proved once more correct as another German sub surfaced and opened fire.

  The Campbell rapidly changed course and headed right toward the enemy vessel. The U-boat was just edging below the surface when the cutter’s crew dropped the depth charges. As huge plumes of water rose skyward, the sub was hit. The damaged U-boat fought toward the surface in an attempt to limp away, but the Nazi captain took the wrong course. As the Campbell’s crew looked for their opponent, the ship surfaced directly in front of the cutter. They were too close to avoid a collision so the captain called out for more speed and a few seconds later the Campbell cut the U-boat in half. As the crew celebrated, Sinbad moved from his spot beside the gun to the port side of the ship. He looked worried and the crew would soon find out why. There was a huge gash in the Campbell’s hull and unless it was quickly patched, the ship would go down.

  Several members of the crew dove into the frigid water to assess and address the damage. Yet even as they worked, the engine room flooded and the cutter went dark. Dea
d in the water, it was now an easy target for any type of enemy vessel. Men held their breath as the work crew fought cold and odds in an attempt to seal the hole. Within an hour they had done so, but by this time the convoy and other escort ships were well out of sight. As they still couldn’t get the engines operational, they were sitting ducks.

  As Sinbad paced from one end of the ship to the other, the Campbell radio operator called for help. A British tug heard the distress call and steamed toward the badly injured American cutter. At the same time, the Burza, a Polish destroyer, received the call and also changed course to meet the ship. As the Coast Guard crew waited for the much needed help, they looked out at the water wondering if there was still one more U-boat under the surface targeting them.

  For a dog that had little regard for officers, Sinbad did a strange thing on this night; he followed along on the heels of the Campbell’s commander. Perhaps the dog’s new loyalty was out of concern, since the man in charge of the cutter was sporting several obvious shrapnel wounds, but more likely it was Sinbad understanding that the crew’s fate depended upon this person’s leadership. It was while looking at the dog that the captain finally and assertively yelled to his men, “Relax, as long as Sinbad is on the Campbell she will not sink.” While this might not have been as memorable as John Paul Jones declaring, “We have not yet begun to fight,” it nevertheless worked its magic. The crew immediately gained an air of confidence.