So I ran into a former 13F (artillery forward observer) today at a party. Naturally we started telling Army stories. So no shit, there he was, in Iraq, with 2-37 Armor (I think). The unit had picked up a local mutt, as units do, named Trackpad, because, well, armor unit.
He was the unit doggo and when guys came back from patrol they had a fuzzy friend to meet them when they rolled back in. However, this is the US Army, where fun is outlawed, so the order came down to get rid of all the dogs on bases.
So the guys took Trackpad in their vic and drove him to the other side of the city and dropped him off - they weren't gonna shoot him. They're on their way back and bam, ambush. My dude is engaging when all of a sudden he hears a bark from behind him.
He recognizes the bark immediately: it's Trackpad. He turns behind him and sees a dude hefting an RPG about to light him up. Dude opens up and takes down the insurgent, pretty much saving the convoy.
A minute later, this small shape comes running out of the building where the insurgent had been: it's Trackpad. He'd followed the convoy for about six miles, spotted the insurgents, and started barking to alert his old friends. Saved some lives for sure.
Dude obviously grabs Trackpad and puts him in his truck. They roll back to base and literally everyone on the convoy walks into the CO's office and is like, "look. This dog saved our lives. Ain't no way this dog is going anywhere."
The command caved and Trackpad got to stay on base. Dude rotated home eventually, and he found out that Trackpad was later adopted by another soldier and made it home to the good ol US.
Yeah, that happened. This is why I love trading stories.
Yeah, that happened. This is why I love trading stories.
Also, if anyone has a photo of Trackpad I'd love to see it.
Thanks for listening.
Thanks for listening.
