Trinity: Military War Dog (64 page)

Ronie Kendig
grew up an Army brat and married a veteran. Her life is never dull in a family with four children and three dogs. She has a degree in psychology, speaks to various groups, is active in the American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW), and mentors new writers. Ronie can be found at
www.roniekendig.com
, on Facebook (
www.facebook.com/rapidfirefiction
), Twitter (@roniekendig), and GoodReads.

What follows is a true account written by an Air Force handler. I hope you find Elgin and Max’s story as inspiring as I did, and that perhaps, we all will realize our military heroes come in many shapes and sizes, especially the four-legged kind.

God bless our troops, veterans, and MWDs, abroad and at home!

Ronie Kendig

“MAX” J
216

During my Air Force years, I had the pleasure of being selected and trained as a Military War Dog (MWD) handler. Over the course of my twelve-year Air Force career, I handled and trained many dogs for law enforcement and force protection. Out of all the dogs I ever worked with, MWD Max will forever be my favorite. Max was a 65-68 lbs Australian shepherd–pit bull mix. He was a beige lean-and-mean machine with a heart of gold and truly loved his handlers and all children. The Department of Defense had trained Max as a Patrol Bomb dog.

The month and year was January 1987. Max and I were assigned a graveyard patrol on Fairchild AFB (Spokane). As part of our duties, we were required to do random common-area building checks in search of illegal explosives and weapons. During the completion of one such common-area search, Max and I began to walk across a parking lot to our patrol car. Suddenly and without warning, both of my feet went flying out from under me and down I went, with a crack, onto the frozen asphalt. My head impacted the ground, and I lost consciousness.

I later awoke to the sound of Max standing across my middle torso and growling at my buddies and fellow patrolmen as they were trying to check on me. Max knew his role was not only as my partner, but also as my protector, and Max knew I was hurt. Max was in no way, shape, or form, going to let further harm come to me.

As soon as I had enough faculties to realize what was occurring, I told Max “Out” (the command to cease aggression) and began to talk with him in a normal tone. Max touched his wet, cold nose to my face and then “permitted” a fellow patrolman to lead him back to our patrol car. As I sat up, I looked across the parking lot and saw Max looking directly at me without so much as a flinch. Fortunately, the injury I sustained that night was a bump to the back of my hat holder (head). Nothing very bad.

By Max’s actions that night, his undying love for and loyalty to me, I knew no harm would ever come to me as long as he was at my side.

MWD Max J216 lived to be thirteen years old. Postdeath the base flag at Fairchild AFB was flown at half-staff. I later received Max’s flag as a gift, and to this day it is proudly displayed in my office in a shadow box inscribed with his name, service number, and dates of service.

God bless you, Max. I miss you, buddy!
Elgin Shaw
U.S. Air Force 1982–94

John Burnam, a Vietnam-era dog handler, formed the John Burnam Monument Foundation (JBMF) to raise an estimated $950,000 needed to build and maintain this long overdue National Monument to honor the heroic U.S. military dog handlers and their incredible working dogs.

Please consider making a donation in honor of the four-legged heroes who have protected their human counterparts and hundreds of thousands of troops throughout history.