The Small Dog With a Big Personality (3 page)

His life on the streets had made Rat greedy with food. If it was offered, Rat would eat it. What many of the men failed to appreciate was that Fielding took care of Rat. He fed and watered him and made sure the dog had no need to beg. But Rat couldn’t help begging and the men wanted to share their chips and chocolate, their suet pudding and sweets and everything else that passed for food. It was probably how he acquired a liking for his favourite Army ‘grub’, the NAAFI’s special steak pies. Unsurprisingly, someone was always clearing up after one of Rat’s eating binges. ‘He could be quite revolting,’ recalls Major Woodrow. ‘There were times when it seemed he was sick all the time and it was not one of his most endearing qualities. At Christmas when the fridge was full of goodies Rat just sat at the fridge door waiting for treats and, of course, he was never disappointed.’

The soldiers’ time off duty could never be spent off the base. It was too dangerous. It was impossible for the men to walk into shops or pubs in a social capacity. It simply couldn’t work that way. It was not because the locals generally wanted to be unfriendly; it was, on the
whole, because they were afraid to be seen as anything else. A British soldier in Northern Ireland was just that, both on and off duty.

Everything the soldiers needed for their four or five months’ tour of duty lay within the confines of the high steel and concrete walls of the base, fortified to keep those inside safe and the Opposition outside. Entertainment was in short supply and the men couldn’t go out, so the company of a dog took on a special significance. It was Rat’s bold cheekiness that warmed the hearts of the soldiers. His playfulness and eager expression lifted spirits and a few minutes watching Rat running around with his plastic toy duck and a few rounds of hide-the-sock were welcome entertainment. Having him there to sit with, talk to and just watch waddling around the barracks was invaluable. Many of the soldiers said that he made a kind of home where there was no other sign of home.

Thanks to Sergeant Fielding’s care, Rat was now always well presented for duty, and a shampooed Rat was far more welcome in the dormitory than the dirty version the soldiers had first met. Sergeant Fielding
remembers that his charge was never really that muddy, even for a dog whose stomach was so close to the ground. He somehow managed to skip over the worst of it, which was just as well because he was never keen on a bath. There was another plus point about the baths; the end result showed that Rat was really a very handsome dog. He wasn’t a dull, matt brown colour at all but every shade of warm copper and rust. And underneath he was not a mucky cream but brilliant white with white socks to match. It didn’t matter that after one patrol he was ready for the bath again! At least everyone could see he was cared for.

He lived the best of a dog’s life and had the run of the base, but his territory was essentially the room Fielding and Regan shared and the rooms opposite that, which happened to be the Officers’ Mess and the Operations Room. He was regularly found in this area of the base but if it was very cold, no one needed to look further than any of the gas fires on the camp. He loved the heat and would stay and soak it up until someone moved him along with their foot. But if they did that they were almost assured a lap companion for
as long as they were prepared to keep still or put up with him rolling over for his tummy to be tickled.

He may have been a dog of very mixed ancestry but he had found a family now and they were proud to have him around.

Rat wasn’t the only dog on the base. A black Labrador called Fleabus liked to hang around with Rat. Their favourite places included the helipad and lying together on Fielding’s bunk. Another dog, Nutter, joined the team but he was more of a free agent and didn’t get so close to the soldiers except when there was food around. Scruffy, a little white mongrel never made it into the base. For some reason, Rat kept Scruffy at tail’s length as far as his inner circle was concerned. And so it happened that Rat built up his human and canine friends inside and outside the huge steel gates. But with all the dogs around it was Rat who attracted the most attention and affection. What did this small misshapen terrier have that the others did not?

To those who served alongside him it was simply that he was an ‘everyman’ dog. He was the ordinary soldier’s
dog. The kind of dog any of them could have had at home. He always met everyone with a smile and bright eyes and was always eager to join in. But the one thing that set Rat apart from the other dogs was his keenness to join the men on patrols. This made him one of them. It made him a soldier and one that faced all the dangers they faced. They admired his spirit as much as his intelligence and in all of that he was a huge boost to the troops’ morale.

‘It was quite a common sight to see Sergeant Fielding lean down and grab Rat in one hand and put him inside his jacket before heading out on duty,’ recalls Major Woodrow.

Rat was intelligent and quick to learn anything Fielding or the others tried to teach him. Sometimes he worked situations out for himself and because he was almost always on patrol with Fielding or someone else he picked up some soldiers’ behaviour. The men patrolled the streets and the countryside of South Armagh. The houses, streets and cars held their own menacing secrets and there was potentially a sniper in every window. The lush grass and thick hedges of the countryside presented a different fear of hidden mines and booby-trap bombs. Seeing the dog skipping confidently down the roads or through the country lanes was strangely comforting for the men. To see a dog looking so happy out walking, head held high and eyes bright with anticipation was as near to normal as anything could be. It was hard to admit the reality that each man, and the dog too, risked their life with every step they took.

Rat soon learnt that if the patrol came to a halt he should do the same. Dropping onto his belly, Rat would remain motionless until the order was given to move off. In the countryside he was aware of the need
to be overly alert and acted only on the orders issued by the patrol commander. If the men stopped to eat, Rat would remain close by, watching out for them like a sentry on duty. If he wasn’t being carried by Fielding or someone from another patrol then he would be waiting by the gates to the base in the hope that he could hitch a piece of the action with someone. He didn’t like being left behind. But there were times when an operation demanded the utmost stealth and for that a dog could be unpredictable and therefore dangerous company. On one occasion during a night patrol Rat and Fleabus appeared uninvited. It was unusual to see Fleabus out of the camp and although Rat had some sense of the correct behaviour, Fleabus was quite a different matter. He was a big dog and therefore a danger in an area where mines were a possibility. Rat was light enough to skip over the ground but Fleabus could have not only jeopardized the exercise but endangered lives too. He had a habit of getting in the way around the cramped accommodation in the base and now he was in the way again.

Patrols and exercises in the field were part of everyday life for the soldiers stationed in Armagh. One night the men were making their way to a deserted farmhouse in the countryside outside Crosssmaglen where they were to spend the night. They left under the cover of darkness and as they approached the location a rustling noise in the undergrowth prompted the patrol to hit the ground. As the noise got louder the men raised their weapons and prepared to face the Opposition. However, out of the darkness appeared Rat and Fleabus. Rat wagged his tail and nuzzled the patrol commander, Sergeant Knight, in the hope of a pat on the head. Knight feared that the inexperienced Fleabus would bark a greeting. Furious with the dogs and fearful the operation would be discovered and men’s lives lost, Knight decided to cancel the patrol, but before he could give the order he noticed Rat sniffing all over the ground ahead of them. He knew that if there were an ambush ahead the dogs would sniff it out and possibly bark a warning, so, until then, it could be assumed it was safe to move on towards the farmhouse. As they moved forward Rat and Fleabus worked the ground
ahead and then ran back to the patrol. Each time they returned it proved the way ahead was clear of mines and the Opposition. With the dogs checking over such a wide area, Sergeant Knight was confident in moving forward to the target. When the men arrived safely the dogs took it upon themselves to leave and were not seen again until the patrol returned the next morning. Rat and Fleabus were waiting at the gates to greet them.

Rat never minded moving anywhere on four feet. His jaunty, skipping trot was part of his charm but it was not unusual to see his foxy tail and springy back legs disappear into the back of a Scarrycan. The Saracen armoured vehicle was the only car-like transport the Army used in Crossmaglen. Nothing else could be considered safe. Claustrophobic and lacking comfort, the Scarrycan was essential on patrols and one was always somewhere watching and waiting and protecting. For Rat, the sight of a Scarrycan meant one thing: a free ride. As long as there was a driver and a tea urn inside there was always room for a little dog to curl up on the other seat.

But Rat’s real love was helicopters. If he couldn’t leap into one the men would put him in an Army bag and he would be lifted aboard and let out so he could take up his position under the back seat. The danger time was jumping out. When transferring Army personnel into strategic positions the helicopter would hover to allow the men to jump out. Landing would leave it vulnerable. Rat was quick to learn the drill and as soon as he felt the helicopter go into a decent he would move forward to jump out. Three feet or thirty feet from the ground, it didn’t matter; Rat was ready to go. Everyone and everything, including the domestic waste, went in and out of the Army base by helicopter. Despite being a large and obvious target for the Opposition, helicopters were still the best and the safest way to travel.

Sergeant Fielding was the first to take Rat into the air, just to see how he would get on. He knew Rat was fascinated by helicopters because he had watched how the dog reacted just watching them fly in and out of the base. He wouldn’t run in and cause a problem but his fur would visibly bristle and his ears would prick up as soon as he heard a helicopter approach. And of course
he heard that before any human being. Everyone could tell that Rat was curious about the helicopter but how would he like flying? Fielding knew there was only one way to find out so he gathered Rat in his arms and stepped into the helicopter. After a few moments of uncertainty Rat settled on Fielding’s lap for the rest of the journey. He was never to give up his rides in the Scarrycan but helicopters became his new favourite way to travel.

Major Woodrow decided a daily aerial reconnaissance was a necessary addition to the regular foot patrols. After all, a helicopter could ‘patrol’ an area that would take days on foot, and considering the British Army had 300 miles along the border to survey and protect, helicopters were to prove invaluable. Fielding was pleased that Rat enjoyed riding in the air as much as travelling in the armoured vehicles as he really didn’t want to leave the dog behind. He felt safer having Rat alongside him and many of the men felt the same too. Where there was a need to run both a foot patrol and a helicopter, Rat would follow Fielding. It went without saying.

One misty morning in January 1979 Major Woodrow was leading a helicopter patrol of the border as Fielding took a foot patrol over the same ground. Rat was at his heels. The dog had already lost half his tail in the firebomb attack but it had not put him off joining his friends. Easy to spot from the helicopter, a car and an open truck carrying a mortar base plate attracted the major’s attention and he ordered a closer look. As the helicopter descended, the men in the vehicles opened fire. Receiving a radioed message from the helicopter, Fielding and the rest of the foot patrol commandeered two passing cars and raced to the scene to help their colleagues. The helicopter had been hit but the pilot had managed to keep it in the air. Rat ran out of the cars with his colleagues, baring his teeth at the gunmen. The suspects, outnumbered, reversed their vehicles and escaped south over the border. No one was hurt that day but 10 days later they were not so lucky. Once again a helicopter patrol commanded by Major Woodrow spotted a lorry and a van acting suspiciously and went in to take a look. It was a trap. Automatic rifles and machine guns battered
the helicopter. The pilot was hit in the face with shrapnel and Major Woodrow sustained a number of gunshot wounds to his legs and was airlifted to Musgrave hospital in Belfast but not before he handed over to the new regiment on site. The soldiers managed to contain the damage but the helicopter was crippled by shots to the rotor blades as it made its way back to base.

The Army never underestimated the Opposition. To those who were posted to Northern Ireland this was real soldiering. This was what all their training was about and a test of their ability to contain the activities of that formidable and unpredictable organization.

As the men of the Grenadiers prepared to follow their company commander out of the base Rat sensed something was wrong. Fielding recalls how the dog glued himself to his heels, almost afraid that the soldier would make a move without him. Rat was amongst heroes and with men who had not only served with him, they had saved his life. Keith Regan, who had saved Rat’s life after the petrol-bomb attack, received the BEM for his service in Crossmaglen. Kevin Kinton had been injured several times during his tour of duty and for him the friendship of the little brown dog was something that helped keep him grounded: the dog was a touchstone for kindness amidst the hostility. For Fielding, the parting was particularly painful. Man and dog had become inseparable. At one point Fielding made plans to take Rat home to England, but that proved to be impossible as the battalion was to transfer to Germany soon after.