It all started farther back than   I'd like to remember....
                     I graduated high   school and had a mundane job.  The   country was heavily involved in a faraway place called Vietnam.  My friends and I were all what you would   call, regular kids.  We all loved our   country though it was not generally a topic of discussion…until now.  Several of us were talking and worried about   the draft, the military in general and Vietnam.    We all knew the name of the place, but were hard pressed to locate it on   a map.  My best friend is Vinny   DeGuilio.  Since that time he has come to   be called Vince instead.  We talked   about the draft and decided to join the Air Force instead.    Talk about scared.  To the   recruiter, to Lackland in Texas, then straight to Vietnam. WOW.
                    Vince and I trained in Security Police, then as K-9.  We thought it was better to have a dog, a   German Shepherd, as a partner.  When the   orders came through, while in K-9 school, others were assigned all over the   country, while Vince and I volunteered for Nam.    Smart or stupid?  We knew our   country needed help, so we went.  Wound   up in a place called Phu Cat, on the east coast, in Central Highlands area.  
                    K-9 worked at night here.  A team was assigned an area to guard that was   "outside" the base perimeter fence line.    Let me briefly explain something.    The base, the perimeter guard bunkers and towers, all manned and armed by   nervous, heavily armed young men (kids?), were behind us..  In front of us were Viet Cong along with many   animals, reptiles, snakes and insects that did NOT want us to be there.  If we got into a firefight with the enemy,   they would shoot back of course.  But the   bunkers thought the enemy was shooting at them, so they returned fire.  K-9 was stuck between them both, taking fire   from front and back.  And we volunteered   for this job.
                    We were put out on post after   dark.  Me, my dog Prince and a bucket of   gear including rain poncho, C-rations, slap flares, ammo, etc.  We had to walk our post in a grid layout   looking for the enemy, tunnels, etc.  I   would sit on my bucket a little while, look and listen.  Until this point, I mistakenly thought I knew   what the word "dark" meant.  I was very   wrong.  If there was no moon, the   darkness was almost overwhelming.  You   could not see your dog at the end of a 5 foot leash, hell, you could not see   your hand in front of your face.
                    That   first night, darkness took on a whole new meaning.  "What was I doing here?"  "Am I crazy?"  "I can't do this?"  "How will I make it until morning?"  "Am I going to die here?"  The thoughts run through your mind.  You think of things.  There is a lot of time here to think.  Too much time.  Prince and I got very close.  We talked to each other every night.  He was a good listener.  We learned to trust each other.  We had to.    We were all the other had.  I   depended on him to keep me informed as to who and what was on our post or coming   our way.  He depended on me to do my part   to keep us both alive until dawn.  A K-9   team was just that….a TEAM.  Our lives   depended on each other.  
                    The posting truck made its rounds   dropping off all the K-9 units around the base.    Prince and I got off at our post and did our normal radio check.  As the truck drove off, we turned and walked   into the darkness.  We had been on our   post about 30 minutes, long enough to find a good spot for our bucket, which   would be our home for the evening, then began to walk our post.    I could not believe the darkness.  We all think we know what darkness is, but I   assure you most do not.  I did not, not   until my first night alone on post.  I   always thought darkness was simply lack of light.  It is much more.  The darkness in Vietnam took on an almost   life form of its own.  I could feel the   darkness all around me, touching me, allowing me to pass through it.  There were no stars or moon that night.
                     When the posting truck drove off, it took   whatever light existed in my little world that night.  I could see the trucks lights being absorbed   by the night.  I have never felt more   alone then I did that night.  If I looked   carefully, I could see a faint skyline where the night sky met the earth.  It was faint, but after 20 minutes, my eyes   started to adjust to the darkness.    Watching that skyline was my only way to be somewhat sure where I was   walking, at least I thought it did.    Prince was at the end of a 5 foot leash in front of me. It was so dark   that I could not even see him there, I had to feel through the leash what he was   seeing and smelling.   Prince was a   Sentry Dog, he was trained by the old school where a dog had one handler   only.  He was trained to attack and kill   anyone at all that came within striking distance or anyone I told him to.  We had to trust each other   completely….totally.  Period.
                    We walked the post, first from the downwind   side to give Prince a chance to smell whatever may be out there.  I could feel him checking the air for   intruders.  This was a new post for   us.  I never saw it during daylight.  It was like walking in the jungle with your   eyes closed.  "How did they expect us to   do this?"  "We never trained in the   dark."  "Can we do this?"  "Will we live another night?"  "I'm scared."  "I have to trust Prince, he can do it.  It was so easy to panic.  The endless darkness, tigers, panthers,   cobras, bamboo vipers (Krates), VC, NVA, booby traps, punji sticks and many   other ways for me to get killed.  Panic   would be so easy. Stay calm.  Listen to what Prince tells me through the   leash.  We walked.  I followed exactly behind him.  I did not vary from his path at all.  Over 45 minutes, or was it a lot longer, we   walked like that..  All of a sudden   Prince stopped in his tracks.  I told him   to go.  He would not.  I shook the leash, he was froze.  I touched him with my leg in the darkness and   I could feel him hunker down and back up slightly.  He would not move an inch.  I was stumped as to why.  Even though I had a red lens on my flashlight   to preserve my night vision, the last thing I wanted to do was to turn it on and   send an invitation to every VC in Nam as to where I was.  I had to.    I turned on the light for a second for a quick look.  MY GOD, where was I?  It looked like the Moon's surface.  We had walked on a very jagged piece of land   no more than 18 inches wide and at least 6 to 7 feet high.  In the dark, it looked like 25 feet   high.  It had ended suddenly and that was   why Prince stopped, he had no place to go.    Trust him.  Trust him.  Trust in God, trust your compass and trust   your dog.
                    They say God protects children   and fools.  I was 19, so I guess I did   not qualify as a child, but I was 10,000 miles from home, in the dark, alone   with a dog, protecting people I did not know, who spoke a language I did not   understand, in the middle of at least several thousand people wanting to kill   me…so I guess I do qualify as a fool.    Back we walked.  Now I knew if I   did not follow Prince closely, I would fall off this dike into who knows   what.  The fear factor was raised quite a   bit.  Fight the feel of panic.  Do not panic.  We CAN do this.  The darkness, that dam darkness, does it ever   end?  We cleared the post.  It was free of VC, at least for the   moment.   WAIT…what's that noise?  Prince alerts.  Here we go again.
                    It was approaching 6 AM.  I could see the first hint of light on the   horizon.  We had to be more careful now   not to form a silhouette with the approaching dawn.  It would make an easy target for any VC for   sure.  We ease our way to the pickup   point. Need to be ready for the posting truck as it may slow down, but never   stopped.  We had to throw our gear and   dog into the truck while it was still moving, 3 seconds tops, and it was roaring   off again.  At the kennels, check your   dog, clean your weapon, then try to sleep in the stifling heat so we can do it   all again tonight…..back into the darkness.
                    Joseph Barbarise