John Robert Mallernee


On a moonless night, with a bayonet clenched between his drooling fangs, Ringo, the G.I. dogface, wearing his G.I. dog tags, crept on his belly through the slimy mud, squirming through the concertina razor wire, as machine gun tracers cracked overhead, and artillery exploded nearby.

Ringo had camouflaged himself by covering his white fur with black shoe polish, and he was determined to make it to his objective, the enemy kennel, where there was kibble and beef bones for the successful war dog.

Barking orders, Ringo led the small team of elite border collies in Dog Company, 1st Battalion, 501st Airborne Infantry, 101st Airborne Division, as they carefully flanked the enemy positions.

Ringo was slightly wounded when an enemy sniper shot away part of one ear, but he just growled and ignored the pain, pressing onward.

Ringo and the other border collie G.I. dogfaces had spent many, many months living like dogs, training for this moment.

They were highly disciplined, and disdained showy hot dog tactics.

Savagely, they rushed forward, shocking and overwhelming their enemy, and exultantly howled with the success of victory!

Alas, due to the effects of the cruelty of war, Ringo and the elite border collies had degenerated into mere beasts, acting like animals, and indulging in cannibalism as they ate hush puppies and hot dogs with relish.