In the invasion of Guam in 1944, Marine Capt. William W. Putney led a patrol to root out some entrenched Japanese.
"I took a squad of men and two BARs [Browning Automatic Rifles] and a flamethrower--and three dogs," the retiree recalls by phone from California. "We got to the area, and I gave the signal to be extremely careful.
"A shot rang out from the distance, and the dog right in front of me--name of Cappy, a Doberman--I saw him fly into the air. I could see the hole in his chest, he was dead.
"If it hadn't been for Cappy right in front of me, I would have been the target."
The dog's handler, a Marine named Terrell, "picked the body up and held it in his arms with blood all over his face--he was crying, just rocking back and forth.
"He'd lost his buddy."
Today, Cappy is buried on Guam with 28 other dogs who gave their lives for the liberation of the island and who were credited with saving hundreds of American soldiers. A life-size bronze sculpture of a Doberman, provided by veterans, guards the cemetery. In a sense, it's a far-reaching symbol. From the sands of Iwo Jima to the frozen wastes of Korea, from the steaming jungles of Vietnam's Annamite Cordillera to the deserts of the Persian Gulf, thousands of valiant American dogs of war have covered themselves with glory.