Hi,

I would say my name now but... I have no name although people call me dog no. 1759. I shouldn't be here, I mean I wouldn't be here if it weren't for John. I would still have all four legs and a tail if it weren't for the training.

I am now going to tell you how I lost my leg and my tail. It all started on July 28th 1914, I was picked to go into training for the war. The men who trained me were cruel and hit me if I did anything wrong, apart from one. John was kind, unlike the others, he looked after me even if the other men would whip him he still did what he could to help me.

The men called my training 'defusing tanks' whatever that means, I was taught to crawl under these huge machines and then scrabble up some pipes. Before John came I was starving hungry and weak. "Come on boy!" John always cheered in an up-beat way. In retrospective I should of sacrificed myself, for John, for the war. One day I heard the sergeant whispering about 'field work' I thought that meant going outside for training, how wrong I was...

Dog no. 1759