One Dog at a Time Read Online Free PDF Page A

Plymouth.
    ‘Check it out and get them back inside and be diplomatic!’
    ‘No problems Boss – on my way.’
    I ran back over to my grot to get rigged up as even a quick stroll outside required full body armour and equipment. I couldn’t go out single-handed, so along with Hutch I grabbed Dave, another one of our more experienced corporals.
    Dave had earned the right to be a section corporal after completing his Junior Command Course prior to us deploying to Afghanistan. It was a job he relished. He loved nothing more than getting on with the job of being a Royal Marine and then partying afterwards with the ladies, or so he liked to boast anyway – most of the lads would testify that Dave’s chatting-up techniques left a lot to be desired. From talking to him in the sangars, I knew Dave had grown up with dogs and, like me, had a soft spot for them.
    We geared up as I hurriedly explained the situation and made our way around to the west gate. With my headset now attached to my left ear I could hear the hill watchkeeper talking urgently to the main building watchkeeper.
    ‘0 this is Hill. The lads say that the ANP are getting quite nasty with that dog. What do you want us to do? Over.’
    ‘Hill this is 0. Wait out and keep an eye on 20C who is making his way out there. Over.’ As troop sergeant 20C – pronounced ‘Two Zero Charlie’ – was my call sign.
    ‘0 this is Hill. Roger. Hope he gives them a good kicking. Out.’
    I told Hutch and Dave that we had the hill playing over-watch but we still covered each other religiously as we headed out of the compound. Hutch knelt to provide semi-cover behind a mud wall at the corner of the alleyway that led from the gate as Dave and I ran across the small patch of open ground to the front. Dave then went to ground to adopt a good fire position while Hutch caught up and we both moved on to the next piece of cover.
    Even though we were two streets away we could hear the sounds of a very angry dog barking.
    I didn’t really have a plan.
    The ANP had been tasked by the Karzai Government to bring stability back into Afghanistan, but the truth was they were poorly paid and not very well trained. They weren’t very popular with the locals either. For their protection the ANP shared our compound, which infuriated the local people – we had had complaints that at times the ANP had threatened them for money and food, allegedly, but we had no way of proving it.
    As we made our way forward, I knew I had to remain professional; after all we were here to save the people of Afghanistan, not the dog population. I had to play it cool. I couldn’t create an incident between us and the ANP, who were supposedly on our side. But there was no way I was going to tolerate animal cruelty. Especially not while I had a big gun.
    We moved patrol-like along the edges of the alleys lined with mud walls until we broke out into a clearing. Hutch took up a position covering the scenario in front of us.
    As I continued forwards Dave walked by my side. This again was something we’d learned in Afghan training, an all-important part of the politics in this part of the world. Having a leader walking side by side with a bodyguard conveyed confidence; it was a small show of strength.
    Twenty feet away, in the middle of the open ground, was a white pickup truck. Sitting on top of it was the ANP commander, dressed in his long flowing olive-green robes. His second in command was standing in the back of the truck bed with an RPG launcher balanced on one shoulder. As I moved into the open ground, their eyes followed me unemotionally.
    I soon saw what had been causing the commotion. On the open ground in front of them both, two of the commander’s young sidekicks were pulling on opposite sides of the biggest dog that I had ever seen. The white-and-grey-haired giant was at least four feet high and had a head the size of a grizzly bear, with teeth to match. Its lips were curled up in one of those ‘get near me