Rags Quotes

“In the none-too-bright light he examined his canine recruit. The little fellow was weak from hunger—but game. His coat, normally ragged and shaggy, was tangled and snarled, from foraging—probably futilely through the streets and alleys of Paris. But there was a brave gleam in his eyes, and his tail thumped a sort of cheerful quick-step as he sat and looked Donovan over.”
― Jack Rohan, Rags: The Dog Who Went to War

“A gray-clad giant closed with Donovan, and the sergeant, caught off balance, stumbled and fell, with the enemy on top, clutching the American's throat with one hand and trying to swing a clubbed Mauser pistol with the other. Rags leaped for the hand that held the pistol. As his teeth sank into the man’s wrist the pistol clattered to the ground. The grip on Donovan's throat relaxed. The sergeant shook the man from him, and after a few minutes of desperate fighting the Americans mopped up the nest.”
― Jack Rohan, Rags: The Dog Who Went to War

“A shell splinter cut Rags’s left forepaw. Another caromed off his gas mask, mangling his right ear. A needle-like sliver was imbedded under his right eye. The terrier was dazed for a minute, Then he struggled to his feet. Donovan lay where he had fallen. His gas mask had been shot away; arms and legs were cat by shrapnel. Blood from a gash in his forehead was blinding him. Over all hung the burning tang of gas—thinned somewhat by a northwest breeze, but still strong enough to sear the throats of sergeant and terrier. Between wheezes and coughs Rags pawed the now useless mask from his head. He licked first the sergeant’s outflung hand, then his face. Donovan roused himself. He lengthened the wire that tied the message to the dog’s collar, so Rags could carry the paper in his mouth. It would be lost if the little terrier succumbed before delivering it. The Sergeant started the dog toward the guns. As near-by bursts intensified the gas, Donovan staggered to his feet and urged the dog to a run. The terrier, favoring his wounded paw as much as he could, moved at a limping trot. Donovan, stumbling along behind, saw the concussion of a nearby shell-blast turn the little terrier on his back.”
― Jack Rohan, Rags: The Dog Who Went to War

“Remarkable breed, terriers,” the officer explained to his orderly. “Boss ‘em around and they pay no attention to you. Make them understand there’s a good reason for doing something, and they are almost human.”
― Jack Rohan, Rags: The Dog Who Went to War