Private Ray mond Nosaka raced to the base of a live oak tree in the mosquito- and alligator-infested interior of Cat Isla nd, nine miles of fshore from Gulfport, Mississippi, in the Gulf of Mexico. The humidity was stifling, even in December. Nosa ka began to climb the oak, the hockey pads he wore making the ascent even more difficult. He steadied himself on a branch 10 feet off the ground and caug ht his breath. Minutes later, he could hear a pack of dogs crashing through pa lmettos and marsh grass, hunting him.
A German shepherd reached the oak first, followed closely by a boxer and some kind of mutt. As Nosaka looked dow n at the snarling and barking dogs, he found it hard to imagine that they, and the four or five dozen other canines kenneled on the tiny island, had been household pets just a year ea rlier. Like him, they had been volunteered for secret and experimenta l training.
Taking a deep breath, Nosaka fired a pistol into the air and jumped to the ground. In an instant, all three dogs were on him, sinking their teeth into the leather and cotton that covered most of his body.
DURING WORLD WAR II, nearly 20,000 U.S. families donated their canine pets for military service through the Dogs for Defense program, the brainchild of a group of dog-lov ing civilians. The U.S. Army’s Quartermaster Corps trained most as guards, scouts, messengers, and casualty locaters. It wasn’t unprecedented: The German military had been using dogs in tactical capacities since the late 19th centur y and other European forces followed suit in World War I. When the United States entered World War II, its military had fewer than 100 dogs, used primarily to pull sleds in the Arctic. In January 1942, prominent New Jersey canine expert and poodle breeder A rlene Erlanger joined with Professional Handlers’ A ssociation head Len Brumby and reporter Arthur Kilbon to organize what they called Dogs for Defense. They intended to recruit canines
