A memorial to World War II Marine dogs is dedicated at the University of Tennessee College of Veterinary Medicine. Pictured are (from left): sculptor Susan Bahary; Dr. Maurice Acree, who donated the memorial; UT President Dr. Joe Johnson; Dr. William Putney (Auburn ’43), who provided veterinary care for the dogs; Jan Howard, wife of Dr. Acree; and Dr. Mike Shires, UT veterinary dean.

Dr. William Putney (Class of 1943) served as commanding officer of the 3rd Marine War Dog Platoon and played a key role in establishing a monument on the U. S. Navel Base on Guam. He started his quest in 1989 to find and move the original dog cemetery, which had been jungle-hidden since the late 1940s.

A new cemetery and the “Always Faithful” monument became a reality in 1994 after five years of hard work and seemingly endless red tape. It was this memorial that recently served as a model for a replica at the University of Tennessee College of Veterinary Medicine.

Dr. Putney’s friend, Dr. Maurice Acree, made financial arrangements to place the monument in Knoxville. The retired Nashville physician is a graduate of the UT College of Medicine and is a client of their veterinary college. He served in Korea as a Navy fighter pilot and has an affection for Doberman pinschers, says Dr. Putney.

After graduation from Auburn University’s College of Veterinary Medicine, Dr. Putney was assigned to the Marine Corps’ War Dog Training School. As the commanding officer of the 3rd War Dog Platoon (part of the Marine’s 3rd Division), his men and dogs conducted more than 450 patrols during battles in the Pacific.

Dr. Putney tells of the exceptional dogs in his book entitled Devil Dogs: The Story of the Gallant War Dogs of the United States Marine Corps and their Courageous Handlers in World War II. The following excerpt is taken from the prologue:
 

The “Always Faithful” sculpture represents Kurt, a Doberman who saved the lives of 250 Marines when he alerted them to Japanese soldiers lying in wait on a steamy jungle hillside above the Asan Point beachhead. The Marines were saved, but Kurt and his handler, PFC Alan Jacobson, were critically injured by an exploding enemy mortar shell. Shrapnel had blown off the top of Kurt’s spine, exposing the spinal cord. I tried desperately to save his life. After surgery, I carried him into my foxhole to watch over him.

Throughout the night, as 16-inch shells from offshore battleships whistled overhead, I administered Nembutal intravenously in an attempt to control his convulsions. When the shells hit and exploded, the earth rose and smashed into my face. Kurt was unable to protect himself, so I gathered him in my arms to keep him from slamming down on the ground as the shells burst around us.

At 3 a.m., with machine gun bullets cracking through the bushes overhead, Kurt stopped breathing. Kurt was the first of 25 dogs who died in action on the island of  Guam and were buried in the tiny section of the Marine Cemetery.

This is the story of the dogs who served on Guam, and the young Marines who, by a twist of fate, were assigned to the 2nd and 3rd War Dog platoons. Some had never owned a dog; some were initially afraid of them. Trained as dog handlers, they were expected to scout the treacherous jungle terrain, searching for Japanese soldiers in caves or in the impenetrable thickets.

A handler’s only reliable weapon under these circumstances was his dog’s ears and nose. Those highly developed senses of smell and hearing combined with training allowed the dog to silently alert his handler far in advance of an enemy ambush or attack, or the presence of a deadly mine. This in turn allowed the handler to warn the Marines who followed behind at a safer distance. These handlers and their faithful dogs had one of the most dangerous jobs in World War II.