When asked: "Give me three reasons why you went in there", he replied: "Duty, Honor, Country!"
My buddy, Hal Wilson, and I went into the "pile" at the World Trade Center with our search dogs, Cody and Sue, at 11 AM on Wednesday, September 12th, 2001. You wouldn't believe the teamwork and the silence with hundreds of firefighters stumbling through the mess.
Hal was a US Marine in Vietnam while I served with the airborne. I never thought a paratrooper and a marine would get along so well together. In our camouflage battle dress we were the first military personnel on site since the airports, the tunnels and many other roads to New York City were closed.
On the way in through the rubble we walked past deserted restaurants with white and checkered table cloths, fully stacked bars, wine on tables and menus in hallways which had survived the blast. Then the realization hit us head on as we entered a court yard and we saw the "pile" of debris several stories high.
We linked up with four state police K-9 teams which were the dirtiest, filthiest men and dogs we had ever seen. They were covered with gray dust and mud. All of the troopers had that thousand meter stare which all combat veterans have after they have been on the line too long.
The troopers and their dirty dogs were being pulled out as Hal and I were deployed with Cody and Sue on to the "pile" stacked several stories high with fire rigs, police cars, twisted I beams, shards of glass, aluminum, wood and chunks of metal and concrete sticking out of the ground. The metal rods I stumbled through reminded me of punji stakes in Vietnam.
The fire lieutenant in charge led Hal and I and our dogs to a fire rig which has been a hose truck. It was gray, completely burned out...no seats, dash, steering wheel...nothing. "Get down there, please, and tell me if you can detect anybody in there!" the officer requested. Cody and I climbed down ten feet and I called into the truck, "If you can hear me, say ONE, if you can hear me, say TWO, if you can hear me, say THREE!" There was no response. Then I repeated myself and said, "If you can hear me, but can't talk, bang the wall with your foot ONCE...TWICE...THREE TIMES!" Still no response. Cody, my golden retriever, began scratching and I told the fire fighters above me, "We have a body down here!"
They pulled Cody and me out of the pit and began cutting the truck open with an electric saw. Several minutes later I heard the fire fighters below call out, "Body Bag!"
As an orange plastic roll was passed down the line into the pit next to the burned out rig, another officer asked me, "How good is your dog?" We were standing on a hose line and Cody was scratching again. I didn't have to answer the officer when Cody's paws suddenly were covered with blood. "Body Bag!" was heard again and another roll of orange plastic was passed down the line.
The remains of the first fire fighter were carefully lifted to the surface in a basket and eight of his brothers carried the remains to the morgue truck. Soon the second fire fighter's remains Cody had discovered were placed into another body bag and we were asked to step aside as another crew removed them.
Another officer grabbed my arm and directed me to a concrete slab which had been a wall the day before. Under the slab was another fire rig. "Can you get down there and tell us if...." He didn't have to finish the request. A hole had been punched into the wall of debris below the slab. "What's down there?" somebody asked.
Cody and I climbed down into this pit and I stuck my nose into the hole, smelling gas. Then Cody passed by me digging into the debris under the slab. We smelled burnt flesh again and I signalled the officer behind me. "Body Bag!" was heard again.
I couldn't believe Cody had discovered three sets of remains in thirty minutes. It was more than I had ever expected from that dog.
As I tried to get out from under the slab and clear the way for another crew to remove remains, I found myself in a great deal of trouble. I was wedged into a pit and couldn't move. It was like being under a staircase in a dark basement and there was no way to get out.
Cody was still in front of me however and in a dash for his safety, gasping for air, he jumped over my left shoulder and turned me around. I crawled toward the light and was lifted to the surface by a squad of fire fighters which began to dismantle the slab under which we were trapped.
I was exhausted this time so Cody and I returned to the top of the "pile" watching a body bag with remains being removed from the scene every twenty minutes or so.
Soon a wind picked up and we began dodging shrapnel flying off buildings about the pile. I thought I had seen it all in two years of Vietnam combat. I hadn't!
I couldn't find my helmet which was buried in my back pack under three days of rations I had loaded for Cody. "Helmets!" was the order so I stumbled away to the relative safety of another structure....one which collapsed later in the day.....where two nurses gave us water and another provided us a cup of orange juice.
Then I got rattled, starting to look for my partner, Hal, and his dog. He was right behind me...and so was Sue..."Hey Marine...let's get the hell out of here!" I shouted. "Yes, sir!" he responded and we followed a crew of fire fighters carrying remains from the "pile" through the building with the bar and restaurants out to the morgue truck.
We were exhausted and hurting. Cody was sneezing and coughing so we headed for the Suffolk County SPCA van. But before we left the scene, Hal procured a metal tray from a garbage pile and we gave our dogs all the water we had.....and as we did.....a squad of fire fighters behind us poured out all their water into the tray for the dogs. Nobody said a word.
After the dogs were checked out by volunteer vets and vet techs at the Suffolk County SPCA, had their noses and eyes washed, paws cleaned and received shots, we were ordered to rest for an hour at Stuyvesant High School. We followed orders.
About 4 PM we started home, walking towards Penn Station on 34th Street. Sue was close to heat exhaustion and Cody was having a hard time breathing. Then we spotted a Franciscan priest who blessed the animals, Hal and me. We felt better and started on our way again. Cody stopped in his tracks on 23rd Street and 6th Avenue, unable to walk any longer.
We watered both dogs, taking a break on a sidewalk, leaning against an office building. Passersby said "Thanks!" and after a few minutes we were on our way again.
When we arrived at Penn Station, twenty minutes before our train was due to depart for Long Island, more people said, "Thanks!", providing us food, water and a couple of beers. On the train ride home Cody slept under my feet with his back to the a/c.
Thanks New Yorkers for giving us the chance to help!
Paul Morgan and Cody Hal Wilson and Sue
The Pile
