“Everybody in the SEAL Teams starts out with a level of trust in you because they know the kind of training you’ve done. Still, you have to earn your credibility. The other guys seemed to get just how impressive that find was. They were thinking that if he could hit on that small a quantity of explosives, then something like an IED or a larger weapons cache was going to be even easier for him.”
SEAL Team 5 engaged in a number of firefights against the Taliban on that deployment and covered a large operational sector within the province. Even though the men and Odin weren’t actively engaged in clearing operations the entire time they were away from the FOB, those three-to-four-hour rides on rutted tracks that wouldn’t fit any of your definitions of roads all added to the fatiguing nature of the job they were doing. Like all the other handlers, Curt had to be vigilant about Odin’s condition.
“You start to wonder if your dog is going to break down—not in the mental sense necessarily, but physically also. This was his first tour of duty, this was my first time with him, all of this was new, and so we became hyperaware. You have to be. I would give him rests, and I’d also make sure that he stayed hydrated at all time. On the mental side, we’d go for long periods where he wouldn’t make any hits, and that’s hard on him. He wants that reward; he wants to succeed. To keep his spirits up, to keep him as motivated as could be, I’d frequently ‘plant’ objects for him to find. That way I was keeping that reward in the front of his mind all the time.”
Toward the end of a particularly exhausting operation, one that saw Odin and Curt going out daily for eight-to-twelve-hour stretches of time, Odin and Curt proved their value to the unit. Not to diminish the important work that all the SEAL Team members do, but in clearing these compounds, some of the men took up security positions. They had to remain vigilant, but they weren’t on the move like Curt and Odin and the EOD man and the point man were. As the sun angled lower one evening, after a day spent in fields, searching wells, and going in and out of buildings, a call came over the radio. Another suspicious area needed to be searched, another walled compound seemingly no different from any of the other hundreds they’d gone through. Once Curt and Odin entered the compound, they realized this one was different. Along the far wall, opposite the small roofed structure where livestock was being kept, sat a group of a dozen or more Suleimankhel Pashtun civilians.
Gaunt behind their beards, their large eyes shadowed between their kufi caps and their concave cheeks, they sat in the dust. The stained and tattered shalwar kameez they wore fluttered in the breeze. Curt took note of them and then asked his teammates to clear the structure of the animals—a smelly assortment of goats and a few sheep, indifferent to the soldiers’ orders to disperse and reluctant to approach Odin, whose agitation and desire were evident in his barking and straining at his leash. Curt led Odin to a relatively safe distance, still within the walls, and waited.
“Even though the animals were finally led out, their stench was still there. The sound of the buzzing flies was nearly loud enough to make our conversation difficult. Odin searched and made a solid find—blasting caps and a large quantity of other IED-making materials. The EOD guy took them all out of there; it took a few trips, while Odin and I stood by. At that point, it would have been easy to just be a spectator. Odin had done his job. I’d played tug with him to reward him, and a couple of other guys came by to pet him and things. I figured, though, that if there was that much explosive shit there, then maybe there were other things around. I led Odin on a search around the perimeter. About a minute into that search, Odin got a whiff of something, and he started tugging me, and he was going straight toward those seated detainees. I was thinking maybe he was interested in them. But he stopped just short of them. In front of where the prisoners were was a sea buckthorn bush. Those are nasty sons of bitches with, as the name says, sharp, sharp thorns and plenty of them. Odin indicated on that and sat down looking at the shrub.”
Curt got the attention of the EOD guy. He’d first cautiously looked at the bush for himself, but its heavy concentration of leaves and thorns made it nearly impenetrable. Curt noted that the Afghanis who were being held started to get restless. As Curt put it, “They started to look like somebody had put a turd in their punch bowl.”
Eventually, they found two fully loaded AK-47s right under the bush, just outside of the arm’s reach of the suspected Taliban members. All they had to do was time their quick scramble, and the operation could have turned into a very, very bad incident. It was obvious that the guns had been placed there as part of some larger plan. How much Odin’s presence and the Afghanis’ reluctance to mess with him played in how that threat was neutralized isn’t clear. What is obvious was that Odin’s ability to detect those weapons overcame the enemy’s intentions.
“That was my proudest moment working with Odin. In my mind, he saved a lot of our lives that day.”
When the operation was concluded and they returned to the FOB, Curt did what he usually did. He went to the chow hall—little more than a small room with a few tables—and had Odin lie down along a far wall. “Odin is like most dogs. He loves to eat, but I was also careful to keep his weight down. He got his meals and a few treats. The one thing I was insistent on with the guys was that they not give him any shitty junk food to eat. At the FOB we had a ‘theater,’ another small room with a TV, where we could watch movies. There were some chairs and a couch, and Odin always hung out with us in there. I never had to muzzle him, because he was so friendly. After that great find, I knew I had to be even more vigilant to make sure the guys didn’t get lax and give him anything that would be bad for him in the long run. They were that grateful for what he’d done, but still…”
Curt rewarded Odin as he always did after a meal, and Odin stayed at his “post.” He brought him a couple of bites of meat, in this case chicken. Later that night Odin did his usual thing. While the movie was on, he climbed onto the couch with a couple of the team members to get as comfortable as possible. He slept for a bit, woke up, walked around the room looking for attention—not that he needed to ask for it.
“If it weren’t for the fact that we were in FOB in Afghanistan, you could almost imagine yourself back at home in a rec room or basement or whatever, hanging out with your buddies watching a movie. Your dog would be doing his best to mooch a treat, but he’d settled for a few ear and belly scratches. He’d get blamed for a few odors that were worse than those in that livestock pen, but that was just boys being boys.”
Curt’s efforts to keep Odin as socialized as possible paid off in a few ways. He began those efforts early in training, and when Odin and Curt were first deployed, Odin couldn’t fly in the cargo hold of a commercial flight taking them overseas. Odin got to fly coach, and he sat at Curt’s feet the whole time, very content. This was a new experience for him, and when he was calm Curt rewarded him. A few passengers came up to greet the dog, and Curt let them. Another time, Curt and Odin had been redeployed to another FOB. This one was larger and had an army exchange store. Curt brought Odin in, and before he could stop the woman behind the counter, she stepped around it and gave Odin a big hug and complimented him on his looks.
“I told her she was very lucky that Odin was such a sweetheart, because a lot of these MWDs aren’t so nice. She could have gotten seriously hurt. He didn’t know her, and that’s usually not a good way to introduce yourself to any dog. I told her that next time she saw a dog she should ask first.”
Odin was only deployed that one time. A change in trainers and protocols meant that in the eyes of those newly in charge, he wasn’t as well suited for the tasks as they would like. Curt would have loved to have kept Odin as a pet, but the navy donated him to the San Diego County sheriff ’s office, where he is still at work. “It would be easy to be bitter or selfish. I still miss Odin, but knowing that he’s still working, doing what he was bred to do and wants to do, I had to put his needs ahead of mine.”
That statement exemplifies anyone who does service for their
country. The pride in Curt’s voice is obvious when he tells me one final story about Odin. “In one of his first patrols, he was with the sheriff on a call. A perpetrator was holed up in an attic. From what I was told, he was a big guy, a former college football player or something. They sent Odin in there and he apprehended the guy. Odin got his bite, something all these dogs just love, and it was good to know that because of him, some officer didn’t have to go crawling into what could potentially be a very dangerous situation.”
Curt is on the verge of retirement. He plans to work as a civilian in dog training. “One of the things I really like about dogs is that they’re honest. They don’t ever try to deceive you, really. I laugh about this now, and I’m really very grateful those recruiters told me that I would have an easy time making the SEAL Teams. One of the guys out of that office somehow remembered my name and tracked me down a while ago. He told me that of all the guys he showed that video to, of all the guys that he signed up, I was the only one to actually get through BUD/S. Imagine that. I always finish what I start, eventually. It would be nice to finish up with Odin, but he’s still got plenty of work left to do. I don’t want him to have an ADD thing going on like I did.”
In my mind, if that’s what ADD does to you, then we’d be a lot better off if more of us had Curt’s version of it.
12
Fallujah. Ask anyone who has been downrange and gotten near that city in Al Anbar Province and they’ll probably use a lot of other words that start with F in telling you about it. From the brutal killing and mutilation of four Blackwater contractors in March of 2004, to Operation Vigilant Resolve in April of 2004, to Operation Phantom Fury/Operation AL FAJR in November of 2004, and beyond, the combat operations in and around this population center, known as the City of Mosques, came to symbolize some of the frustrations of engaging in this kind of counterinsurgency. The bloodiest battle of the Iraq War, Operation Fury/Operation AL FAJR was also the first one fought primarily against insurgents and not against Iraqi troops loyal to their deposed leader.
In many ways, “insurgency” and “IED” have become synonymous with one another. Outmanned, outsupplied, and outgutted, the insurgents relied on these inexpensive but very deadly explosives to inflict both physical and mental damage on Coalition Forces. A report produced by the Center for Strategic and International Studies demonstrates how the use and detection of IEDs in Iraq evolved. In the early months of the conflict, from June of 2003 to October of 2003, there were a total of 719 IED incidents reported. Thirty-seven members of the Coalition Forces (not counting pro-Coalition/Iraqi Security Forces) were killed in action, and another 670 were wounded in action during that four-month period. According to the CSIS data, only two IEDs were found and cleared in that same period. In November of 2003 alone, 503 incidents were reported with 259 IEDs being found and cleared. We were learning, but unfortunately so was the enemy. By October of 2005, the number of IED-related KIAs rose to 52 that month, with another 405 Wounded in Action (WIA) as a result of the 1,683 incidents reported.
Throughout the period of November of 2005 to March of 2008, the number of IED incidents rose to a high of 2,612 in February of 2007 and gradually fell after that, declining to 1,175 incidents in March of 2008. A similar trend in the number of found and cleared exists in that period, with the success rate early in that time frame hovering around the 50 percent mark and increasing to a high of 69 percent by January of 2008. As I stated earlier, there are a lot of factors to consider in this increase in efficiency in finding and clearing IEDs, but I’m convinced that the use of canines contributed to this positive trend, as did our vigilance in focusing on turning the tide against our enemy’s insidious tactic.
For that roughly eight-year period, 2,182 Coalition Forces were killed in action and 18,347 wounded in action, for a total of 20,547 Coalition casualties due to IEDs. To put this in better perspective, those 2,182 deaths as a result of IEDs represent 60 percent of the total Coalition Forces listed as KIAs.1
I realize that numbers can start to blur in our minds and that it’s sometimes easy to forget that each of those numbers represents a human life lost or damaged in some way. For those lives lost, the pain and suffering have ended. One of the legacies of Operation Iraqi Freedom and the enemies’ use of IEDs against us is the number and types of wounds those explosives caused. Probably the most visible representation of the effects of those devices are the number of amputees who lost a limb or limbs as a result of their encounter with an IED. According to the September 28, 2010, report “U.S. Military Casualty Statistics: Operation New Dawn, Operation Iraqi Freedom, and Operation Enduring Freedom” issued by the Congressional Research Service, 1,621 service personnel underwent amputation due to injuries sustained in Iraq and Afghanistan.2 As has been widely reported, the battle against terrorists and insurgents and their use of IEDs has resulted in a number of specific kinds of injuries. Lower-leg and traumatic-brain injuries are among the most frequently cited as being a part of this type of warfare.
The Center for Disease Control produced a bulletin for physicians, Explosions and Blast Injuries: A Primer for Clinicians, which outlines many of the main points to be made about explosive detonations. As a SEAL Team member, I was brought up to speed on much of the information included in this report, only from a different perspective: how to use those devices. The CDC operates from the other end of the spectrum: how to recognize and treat injuries those blasts/explosives produce.
Essentially blasts/explosives can be broken down into two main categories: high-order explosives (HE) and low-order explosives (LE). An HE is markedly different from an LE in one regard—HEs produce what’s called supersonic overpressurization shock wave. TNT, C-4, Semtex, dynamite, and nitroglycerin are all examples of HEs that produce that kind of powerful shock wave. An LE does not produce an overpressurization shock wave; it is a subsonic explosion. Terrorists use whatever they get their hands on to manufacture both types. What makes an IED an IED isn’t necessarily a matter of whether it’s an HE or an LE, but the fact that these devices are generally made in small quantities (compared to how many the military would manufacture). IEDs are composed of materials being used for something other than their intended purpose. Manufactured explosive devices, those produced by or for the military, are HE-based.
Depending upon the type of explosives being used, your distance from the blast’s center, and the environment you are in, the effects of the explosion on your body will vary. The CDC breaks down these effects into four quadrants. The first, or primary mechanism, includes injuries like “blast lung” or pulmonary barotrauma. As you can probably figure out, this injury affects the lungs but also any other part of the body that is gas-filled—the middle ear, and the gastrointestinal tract among them. When the pressure outside the body and inside the body are substantially different, which is what happens when an HE creates that overpressurization wave, damage occurs to those areas. In fact, that is the leading cause of death from HE explosions among those who survive the initial blast. The wave can also cause ear injury, perforation and hemorrhage in the bowel, and lacerations of the organs. These blast waves—and keep in mind that all that I’ve described above is a result of coming in contact with the wave produced by an HE explosion and not from any other physical object—can also cause concussions. When those waves are released in a confined space, like a room or a small building, they don’t dissipate as quickly, and those explosions and their concussive effects, especially inside something as small as a vehicle, are particularly deadly.
Another effect of an explosion, ballistic penetrations (shrapnel, as it is commonly referred to) is the CDC’s secondary mechanism. These can affect any part of the body. Because of the type of armor that our troops are geared up in, the lower limbs, hands, and other exposed areas are most vulnerable to this kind of damage. The tertiary, or third, mechanism results from the wind the blast produces, which can hurtle a body through the air, producing fractures and traumatic amputation. The last category is a kind of cat
chall of any other injuries, including burns, crush injuries, all the way to things like asthma, high blood pressure, and angina.
Obviously, because many of the IEDs are planted in the ground and the blast originates there and its force dissipates as it spreads, the lower extremities are most vulnerable. In a December 8, 2011 interview with Rachel Martin of National Public Radio, Lieutenant General Michael Barbero, the director of the Joint IED Defeat Organization (JIEDDO), expressed what most troops on the ground already knew. He talked about how we were essentially in a race with the enemy. As our ability to detect what started out as crude devices improved, so did the level of complexity of devices they created, in particular their ability to detonate them. The Joint IED Defeat Organization was created in 2006, and at the time of his interview, his department’s budget was $2.8 billion. He went on to compare IEDs in the twenty-first century to artillery in the twentieth century, making the claim that both caused the most casualties in conflicts occurring in each time frame.
While the government has spent billions of dollars on armor plating vehicles, robotics, and surveillance equipment, Lt. Gen. Barbero pointed out that the most effective weapon against them is a vigilant soldier. Though he didn’t state this, I will: evidence suggests that dogs are an even more effective tool in detecting explosives. I think the following story offers further evidence to support that point.
Trident K9 Warriors: My Tale From the Training Ground to the Battlefield With Elite Navy SEAL Canines Page 21