Episode 23

Validation was coming to a close. A decision was made by our Brigade to give the handlers that were showing promise more time to train instead of sending their dogs home. This took some pressure off the handlers, but also created an argumentative situation between the trainers, who were giving an honest assessment of the dog teams and forwarding that information up the chain of command, and SFC Shemp that was trying to torpedo the program at any opportunity. He would tell us that we were looking good and he just needed to see some consistency before he would validate us and release us to our units, while behind our backs, as well as unbeknownst to the trainers, he was sending negative reports to our Commanders.

I would report to my First Sergeant over the phone saying I was looking good and about to push forward to my unit, and he was informing me that in a meeting, he was told it was going to be at least another 2 weeks, and that SFC Shemp wasn't convinced that I would be moving on with a dog at all. This was all news to me, and my trainers. Luchian was getting very upset, and started taking matters into his own hands, contacting our Brigade Commander and Provost Marshal, who is the guy in charge of all the Military Police and Working Dog teams. The argument reached the Pentagon, where the Sergeant Major that had certified our dog teams in Arizona was having to sort through the reports, good and bad, and make a decision about what course of action our program was going to take.

In the midst of all the controversy, we were still training twice a day, with SFC Shemp coming out occasionally to set up a venue and watch us run. We had heard from our trainers what was going on, so we were very reluctant to engage in conversation, or spend any time around SFC Shemp. Our anger and frustration gave us something to concentrate on, taking the focus from being worried about what this guy was going to think, and turning it into wanting to prove him wrong. We didn't care what he thought of us anymore. We had worked with his MP dog teams enough to know that we put all of them to shame, and if he wanted to play dirty, we would just shove it in his face. He couldn't continue to fail us if we were perfect. We wouldn't give him the choice.

Gary and Luchian had set up 2 night-time training venues at a construction site on the other side of the FOB; a building search, followed by a route clear. We were to search a concrete block barracks building that was about half completed. All the walls and the second floor were in, but there was still construction materials and equipment laying around. The center of the building was open, so Luchian could see into the courtyard below from his post on the second floor, and observe the teams working while not being in the picture. The dogs learn that anytime the trainers are around they will soon be finding bombs, so the trainers wanted to see how we would work without that additional cue for the dog.

Fama and I approached the building, checking out the perimeter and learning as much about the interior of the building as possible before we began the interior search. The building consisted of 16 rooms on the ground floor, 8 down each side, with an open courtyard in the middle. The courtyard was being used as a storage area for pallets of concrete blocks, bags of cement, and piles of sand for making mortar. The rooms all contained small piles of materials, tools and clothing the workers had left for convenience. There were a lot of productive areas to search, and a plan was in order to minimize the chance of us missing something.

I decided we would work down the left side of the building, searching all the rooms, then cover the courtyard in the center, making sure to hit all the piles and pallets, and then complete the search with the rooms on the right side of the building. I had Fama sit and unhooked her leash, looping it around my shoulders and fastening it behind my back (as all the cool guy handlers do). She was more than ready to go, vibrating in anticipation. I smiled at the sight, blew her a quick smooch, and put her to work. She searched the doorway leading into the building and then proceeded inside.

I directed her into the first room on the left, waiting at the door while she did her search of the room. She quickly made a counter-clockwise circle of the room, checking up in the window on her way by, and came back to the doorway, at which time I stepped back and sent her into the next room. She did another quick but thorough search and exited the room in front of me, naturally heading in the same direction we had been moving. I was just getting ready to direct Fama through the next doorway when there was a loud crash just behind me, accompanied by a violent jerking under my feet. My heart lept into my throat, I peed a little, jumped 2 feet in the air, and turned around to see what the hell happened. Luchian, ever the prankster, had dropped a concrete block on a piece of plywood that was covering up a hole on the ground, while I was standing on it. The resulting noise was deafening. After taking a second to inventory all my important parts, I looked up to the second floor where Luchian was wearing his best Dennis The Menace grin.

"Hey buddy, where's your dog?"

Oh yeah, my dog.

I looked into the room she was about to enter before I pissed on myself, and she wasn't there. I checked the next room, and when Fama was not there, I called her name. There was no response. I was thinking Just great. Luchian scared the crap out of my dog, and she is half a mile away now, waiting for the attack to be over. Good luck getting her into a building any time soon. In my mind, the training venue was over. I just needed to find my dog. I kept calling "Fama, come here mama" and working my way through the building, checking in the rooms on the other side of the courtyard. I was afraid at what I might find; Fama, cowering in a corner or hiding behind a pile of lumber.

I stepped into the third room, and there she was, indicating on a hide, anxiously awaiting her ball. Relief washed over me and turned to giddiness. I stepped back out of the room and called her again, to see if she would break her sit and come to daddy. She never moved. All I could hear was the swishing of her tail increase when she heard her name. Luchian gave me a double thumbs-up and a big, proud smile. I tossed her ball, banking it off a wall to where she was sitting, and started the party.

Luchian couldn't wait to tell the story. "I had this concrete block in my hands, just waiting for the perfect time to drop it, when you crossed that plywood. I figured it would make a hell of a racket, so I waited until Fama went into that room, and then dropped it. What I didn't plan on was her catching odor at the doorway, so when I dropped the block, she was turning around to head across the courtyard after that hide. You missed it because you freaked out like a pansy, and turned around to talk to me. All the while, your dog worked her way to the room on the other side of the building and sat on the hide."

Eat your heart out SFC Shemp.

After Luchian and I regaled each other with instant replays of the event, with me taking a beating for being a big pussy, Fama and I headed over to the route clear to find Gary and share the story. I knew he would get a good laugh out of it. Such merriment was not in the plans. SFC Shemp was standing next to Gary, with his arms crossed like Darth Vader deciding who he was going to choke to death with The Force, obviously arguing about something. Alex and Bruno were standing out on the venue, 25 yards from SFC Shemp's truck, which was parked right next to the road we were to clear. I returned to Fama's crate and put her up until it was our turn to run the venue.

Half an hour later, Alex returned with Bruno, looking concerned. At least Bruno had a ball in his mouth, so they had apparently found something. Alex didn't have that talkative look on his face, so I got Fama out and headed up to the venue, where Gary was waiting for us.

"Just do the route clear, and pay your dog for anything she finds," were his only instructions. His lack of banter struck me as odd, as Gary was never short of a smart word or silly comment to help the handlers be at ease while working. I skipped the story about Luchian and the concrete block, and put Fama to work off leash, searching the road and surrounding area as we headed towards the truck parked along side of the route. SFC Shemp had taken up position, standing in the bed of the truck, his arms still crossed, watching through critical eyes. As soon as Fama got downwind of the truck, her head snapped around in a beautiful change of behavior, and she started working the truck, with SFC Shemp in the back. When she got to the lowered tailgate, she jumped in the back of the truck and laid right at SFC Shemp's feet, indicating on a black duffel bag. He didn't respond in any way, so I walked to the back of the truck and tossed her ball, hoping that by some act of the Gods that he would get bit in the nuts in the process. No such luck.

Fama hopped from the bed of the truck and happily returned to me so we could finish the route clear. After we were finished with the venue, I inquired about the situation with Alex and Bruno that had taken place earlier. SFC Shemp had showed up at the training venue of his own accord, which was fine, but then insisted on parking his truck, which contained a bag of explosives, along side of the training venue. This normally wouldn't be a problem, but he had parked in close proximity to another hide which was already placed in the ground before he showed up, and then refused to move his truck. When Bruno had responded to the big bag full of explosives in the back of the truck, and subsequently missed the buried hide, which was giving off much less odor, he called it a miss on the dog, at which time Gary verbally impaled SFC Shemp with a spear.

SFC Shemp dug in his heals, and refused to move his truck, so Gary dug up the training aid and continued the training venue, with the SFC pouting in the back of his truck, standing on the hide, which created a situation that our dogs had never trained for, which resulted in several of the handlers pulling their dogs away from the truck because they thought that their dogs just wanted to play with the guy in the back. SFC Shemp counted those occurrences as handler misses, going against the dog teams in their quest for validation. I approached him after the training venue was complete and tried to speak with him about the unfair treatment of our dog teams. He just got in his truck and drove away.

This episode took a while because I wanted to accurately portray SFC Shemp (not his real name) and the conflict we had with him, and make that emotion understandable to people who had never met the guy. It's hard for me to speak ill of someone and I had to find it in myself to tell it how it really happened.

As a favor, will you describe SFC Shemp in a quick sentence or two, as you see him. That will help me in seeing if I got it right or not. I may need to add some more detail. It's hard to tell, because I already know the guy.

Thanks for participating

sound like so many trainers in the horse world. If someone has very good results with a different training it is just not right.

Episode 24

It worked it's way down through the grapevine that the Sergeant Major was not happy with SFC Shemp, and had given him quite the dressing down over the telephone during a conference call. Gary came to us shortly after and let us know that Larry, John and Scott had all passed and were to get their bags packed. They were flying out in 24 hours to the real world, as bona fide dog handlers. This was great news for them, and the rest of us as there was now a visible light at the end of the tunnel.

We put our noses to the grindstone, working every day at being the best we could be. We trained every morning, and every evening, sometimes without a break in between venues, working through the night and into the early desert sun. The trainers would have us walk for hours, gobbling up miles, before coming to a venue and then going right to work, followed by another walk to a separate venue. We had to be ready to hit the mountains with our dogs, and be able to work after we got where we were going. Fama and I spent our mornings and afternoons in the gym, running side by side on treadmills.

Adam, my good friend and fellow handler, had begun going to the gym at the same time as Fama and I. His dog, Midnight, had taken well to running on the treadmill. Cycling is a passion for Adam, with him riding for up to a hundred miles around the island of Oahu on any given Saturday while not deployed. To say he is an elite athlete, with an intimate knowledge of the importance of physical training, is an understatement. Every day, we would exercise together with our dogs in the gym.

We were doing our normal workout, with Adam and Midnight running on treadmills next to Fama and I. We had been running for half an hour and we were in the zone, all 4 of us, when through the music in our earbuds, we heard a commotion. Then came the smell.

Midnight had relieved himself right on the track of the treadmill, which was moving at 7 miles per hour, effectively turning it into a manure spreader. It wasn't even a nice firm log. The poo was flung all over the floor, which was covered in corrugated rubber mats with holes in them, and quickly covered the belt on the treadmill as Midnight continued to run, further spreading poo by flinging it from his feet onto every piece of equipment in the surrounding area. The treadmills were located right in front of a swamp cooler, so the fan was blowing Eau de Midnight through the whole gym. People were gagging and retching as they scrambled for the door.

Adam quickly apologized and began cleaning up the mess. He went through a whole roll of paper towels trying to get all the poo out of the floor mats. Fama and I just ran on in ignorance, hoping that he would learn to break his dog before going to the gym.

After our run, Fama and I would regularly go to an empty tent located next to our living quarters, that was an open area to work in, and thankfully in the shade. We would work on off leash obedience commands, including having her stay in a down position while I left the tent. I would walk out the door in one end, take my time circling around to the other end, and come in the door, rewarding her if she had stayed in the down position. As she got better at this exercise, I would take an increasingly longer time to make it to the other end of the tent, sometimes doing a full loop and coming in the door through which I had left.

Fama was in a down stay, which was her fourth of the day, and I was taking my sweet time getting back into the tent to reward her. I had just passed the door on the opposite end of the tent, deciding to make a full lap, when there was a commotion in the tent. Footsteps thundered on the plywood floor. A man was screaming in a way that men don't normally scream, but Fama was oddly quiet. I ran down the outside of the tent to the far end, turning the corner just in time to see the door fly open and 2 soldiers, we will call them Bill and Ted, come barreling out into the sunshine, with a towel flying ahead through the air. Bill was obviously frightened, breathing rapidly and clutching his chest for comfort and dropping his toiletries bag, while Ted was laughing and poking fun at his friend. I looked in the door of the tent and Fama was still laying in her down stay, cocking her head side to side, trying to figure out what all the fuss was about.

Ted explained that they had entered the tent, thinking to take a short cut to the latrine to take a shower. They were talking to one another and had failed to see the 70 pound German Shepherd laying in the middle of the floor. Bill, who was deathly afraid of dogs, walked right up on Fama as she was laying down. When he finally noticed her laying there, she looked up and bared her teeth at him, as he was inside her stranger bubble and wanted him to go somewhere else, at which time Bill let out a scream and fell down twice trying to get to the door. At Ted's request, I went back in the tent and retrieved Bill's flip flops, suggesting that they go around the tent from now on as I handed them back.

 Quote: David Winners

This episode took a while because I wanted to accurately portray SFC Shemp (not his real name) and the conflict we had with him, and make that emotion understandable to people who had never met the guy. It's hard for me to speak ill of someone and I had to find it in myself to tell it how it really happened.

As a favor, will you describe SFC Shemp in a quick sentence or two, as you see him. That will help me in seeing if I got it right or not. I may need to add some more detail. It's hard to tell, because I already know the guy.

Thanks for participating

Besides the fact that he's an arrogant jerk I'd say that he was out to make a power play for personal glory/personal argenda. You guys didn't fit in with his personal clique so he decided to throw his weight around to try and discredit you instead.

I'd say SFC Shemp is,as mara said, an arrogant jerk. I'd also say he must be very insecure about his position and his MP handlers' abilities or he would not feel the need to sabatoge (sp)another program. A secure person would want another to succeed.

Btw, I'm starting to sense a future movie deal, David.

SFC Shemp is teed off because his brothers, FSG Larry and CWO-II Mo, got stateside assignments. He's the kind of guy who, rather than learn from having his beloved MPs getting handed their asses, feels like his ego is taking incoming.
Does the visual I'm getting of his physical appearance match his character name?


P.S. The first 25 LBers in line at the book-signing should get an added bonus, say a slobbered tennis ball.

I saw your update last night but waited till this morning to savor it with fresh eyes. Episode 23 was great! Go Fama!!

I'm kind of with two opinions on the guy. Certainly bully and asshole come to mind. The fact that any details, in the reports on your development. were being disclosed upward without your knowledge is a big "no, no" in government here. There should be no surprises where critique and feedback on performance are concerned.

A boss, leader, teacher should (must) have the skills to tell you straight to your face where he/she feels you need more work and what challenges you may be facing. No room for hidden agendas, open and accountable, and safeguards in place to keep it that way. Which leads me to my next opinion of this guy being a coward.

I would think that any high functioning unit (or combination of units) on such an important mission would take great issue with this kind of sabotage within their own group. WOW.

And then there's the fact this guy was getting away with this.

Did his hidden agenda include pissing you off so much that it sparked that drive in you guys to become the best?

Sorry, a little more than one sentence but you asked.

Okay, onto episode 24.

ETA: Poor Midnight and Good Fama. I know that uncomfortable, bubble grin well.

Edited by CJ Barrett (05/06/2012 10:29 AM)
Edit reason: read next episode

Hilareous!!! Both stories were.

Several times when I bike Logan (with him running beside me no pulling) we'll be going along and suddenly without warning, I am jerked around to a halt because he has decided to unload. (This after I offer him a chance, after our warmup) Now at least I know there is another.

Shemp = to some guy who is teaching a martial arts class and doesn't want his kid to get beat by a kid in the class. He clearly doesn't get the mental/spiritual concepts even though he pretends to teach it.

 Quote: Duane Hull

SFC Shemp is teed off because his brothers, FSG Larry and CWO-II Mo, got stateside assignments. He's the kind of guy who, rather than learn from having his beloved MPs getting handed their asses, feels like his ego is taking incoming.
Does the visual I'm getting of his physical appearance match his character name?


P.S. The first 25 LBers in line at the book-signing should get an added bonus, say a slobbered tennis ball.

LOL @ Duane. Shemp is a very physically fit guy, but he's also pretty insecure.

I'll pass out the slobbered up tennis balls, but you know where you have to put them