Charles R. "Chuck" Dowling

Thirteen Men: A Sergeant, three corporals and nine privates. The squad has three fire teams, each headed by one of those corporals. In each fire team is an automatic rifleman and two other Marines. Between them all, they create an enormous amount of death dealing destruction. They comprise the most powerful small combat unit of all time.

And in the mountains of North Korea in the fall of 1950, the thirteen men of the First Squad, of the First Platoon, of “D” (Dog) Company, of the Second Battalion, Seventh Marine Regiment becomes the best of the best. After fighting for two weeks against overwhelming odds and in below zero temperatures, they become so admired by their peers and feared by their opponents that they go into U.S. Marine legend as the “The Mad Dogs.”

The Mad Dogs tells us their story, a heartwarming tale of an unusual brotherhood, enormous bravery, uncommon loyalty and incredible skill.

The Mad Dogs is a heroic and moving story. It is the tale of a superb Marine rifle squad who earn their fierce honorific by fighting stubbornly, and with great skill, against an overwhelming enemy and sub-zero temperatures. Although they win the battles, they don’t all come home. It is a patriotic story, filled with honor, courage and esprit de corps. Readers will feel glad to be an American.

In the opening chapter, which takes place in the present, we hear the words of an old Marine Gunnery Sergeant. He then takes us back to 1950 where we begin to meet this eclectic group of warriors who bond together and form this marvelous squad. We know the “Gunny” was one of “The Mad Dogs”, but we don’t know which one.

As the story unfolds, unique friendships emerge. There is a cowboy and an Indian, a black corporal and a white southerner, a reserve lieutenant and a veteran sergeant, a young Texas Chicano and a French Canadian veteran and two rival gang members from New York City, and more. We also meet girl friends and long suffering wives, and we look in on one American family in particular as they suffer along with their Marine.

We experience the squad’s formation and development as they proceed through their training and preparation. We also travel with them to Tijuana for a hilarious episode with the local police on their last night home and then move to Korea with them where they perform their heroic deeds. The squad members become our friends. We care about what happens to them and marvel at their accomplishments.

The story closes back in the present, where we find out which member of the squad was the Gunny, and also the names of “The Mad Dogs” who didn’t come back.

It is an action book. It has plenty of drama, fighting and winning. It is a moving story. It is not a trite story. There will be few that will read this story and not be moved. The narrative flows well. Each chapter invites you to read the next chapter. It will be a page-turner. The book reads quickly

Because it is at once a war story, a love story, a story of bonding, a fictional history and it has humor and pathos, it doesn’t easily fit a particular genre. It’s unique. It’s for ALL readers.

IT’S A RIPPING GOOD YARN.

Second place winner Florida Writers 2004 novel contest for military fiction.

Read the first chapter

“As a professor of writing and a retired Marine Corps officer, I took a special delight in reading Chuck Dowling’s manuscript: The Mad Dogs. The plot and the action reminded me of stories I heard about Korea from the gunnery sergeants I had while I was a young infantry officer serving in the Far East during the post Korean War era. It honors Korean War heroes in a delightful manor. Chuck Dowling’s command of the realities of war and the terminology of the era is phenomenal.”

Robert W. Larson, Ph.D. and Major
U.S. Marine Corps (Ret)

“Thanks for letting me read your second novel. I enjoyed it immensely…. Your description of the ‘3-day war’ in November (Ch 18) is very vivid and the breakdown of Captain Meeker quite emotional. A very moving section…You’ve got a good story here and your combat action narratives are as good as I have read.”

William Russell author of three Korean War
books, The Face of the Enemy, Stalemate
and Standoff, and Ten days at Whitehorse.

“When will the movie be coming out…? You have written one of the best books I have ever read! I read an average of 3 to 4 books a week. You…know that I am familiar with W.E.B. Griffin among many authors, so that when I say you have written an excellent novel you know I am not kidding around. You captured the era exactly as it was in those days…You have created a Korean version of From Here to Eternity.”

Tom Bunyon, veteran and avid
reader. Port Charlotte, Florida.

“The Mad Dogs takes us into action with the First Squad, of the First Platoon, of “D” (Dog) Company, Second Battalion, Seventh Marine Regiment. Within, we find a compelling tale of the brotherhood, bravery, loyalty and incredible dedication of this superb Marine rifle squad who earned their reputation as fierce combatants by fighting stubbornly, and with great skill, against an inexorable enemy and unforgiving cold. We watch the squad’s formation and development, their training and preparation. We share their exploits, their joy and sorrow. We know as we plant our first steps on Korean soil that some of them will not be returning home alive, but still we cannot resist a more intimate look behind the scenes at this elite fighting unit as we realize their hopes, their dreams, and understand their determination to live and die with honor.

Once again, Chuck Dowling shows himself to be a master storyteller, his characters well defined and uncannily familiar, his knowledge and descriptions of military tactics and combat vivid and realistic, his conversational style providing fast and easy reading. The Mad Dogs is a must read for anyone who wants to know the men who fight to keep this country free.”

Tracey Hessler, Book Reviewer

Comments from other Book Reviewers:

“Good beginning; fascinating story; great closure.”

“I cared about the characters. I wanted them all to survive, although deep in my heart I knew that some would not.”

“The Mad Dogs are real. I can picture them as if I personally knew them.”

“It brought back frightening memories; especially the cold and the dirt.”

“Can I picture the setting? The author did this so well I felt like I was there.
It appeared as if the author fictionalized a real event.”

“Well done. Very intriguing.”

“Good character development.”

Call me “Gunny.” Most people still do.

Gunny is short for Gunnery Sergeant. A Gunnery Sergeant used to command some guns on the old sailing ships, which is where the title comes from. It was a pretty important job, but he wasn’t in the Navy. He was a Marine. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m also a former Marine.

I got a picture here that shows what a Gunnery Sergeant looks like. I know you can’t see it, but it’s a picture of me in my dress blues, white hat, white gloves and all. The red and gold chevrons on the sleeve are made up of three stripes on the top and two “rockers” underneath. There’s a little space between with crossed rifles in it. That’s Gunnery Sergeant’s stripes. A number of years ago, the official name for the rank was Technical Sergeant. God only knows who thought that up, but even back then the troops still called Technical Sergeants, Gunny. Go figure.

You have to be pretty good to be a Gunny. And you have to have gone through a lot … you know, paid your dues. The rank defines the quintessential Marine. That’s a fancy word that describes the perfect specimen.

The Gunny has the experience, the guts, the know-how, the maturity and all, but he’s still able to fit in with the troops. They know that once upon a time, he was like them. He’s the big brother and the father figure. He’s the “ Man.” He’s also the guy who has to kick ass sometimes to get things done.

In any event, I don’t want to make this too confusing, but my last rank before I was retired was not Gunnery Sergeant. I was a Sergeant Major. Now that’s two steps up from a Gunny and that’s as high as it gets without being an officer. A Sergeant Major wears three stripes up and three rockers down with a star in the middle.

So even though I got promoted, I’m still more proud to be called Gunny.

Ahh … did I just use the word proud? … I sure did, didn’t I?

Well, I was proud that I was once a Gunny. And I was proud that I got to be a Sergeant Major. But most of all, I’m proud I was a Marine.

It’s funny about Marines. We got a thing all our own. The people in the other branches of the military, the Army, Navy, Air Force, Coast Guard and so on, they have pride too, but not like Marines. The Sailor is usually proud of his ship. The Soldier is proud of his unit. The paratroopers got real pride in their unit. The Rangers are proud to be rangers. The Airmen likes his aircraft. But the Marine is proud he is a Marine.

Where do we get this pride? Well we’re different.

One thing that makes us different is the reason we join. Most of us become Marines because we want to fight. We want to be tested. We want to be part of the best. We didn’t enlist to learn a skill or to get our education paid for.

Some say we’re cocky, or even arrogant. I guess they’re right. If you got it -- flaunt it -- was always my motto. When things get tough, you need to have a tough mindset. You’re first reaction has to be to get the job done, even when it looks impossible. It’s one of the hallmarks of Marines.

Also, we all know our history, when and where we were founded and all. In the Marine’s Hymn, we sing about the halls of Monteczuma and the shores of Tripoli. We actually know where those places are and why they’re in the song. How many Sailors or Soldiers know all that stuff about their songs? We know all about our famous battles too, Belleau Wood in World War One, the Pacific battles, like Guadalcanal and Iwo Jima in World War Two, Inchon and Chosin in Korea, Hue and Khe Sahn in Vietnam and more. Tradition is a big part of our makeup.

We remember boot camp, where we first became Marines. We remember buddies we went on liberty with. And we remember buddies who died. Old Marines, new Marines, they’re all the same. We’re a “Band of Brothers.” By the way, we were the first to use those words.

We also have our own words, like Gunny for instance. No one else uses Gunny. We greet each other with “Semper Fi”, short for Semper Fidelis, which means Always Faithful. We don’t wear jackets; we wear blouses. We wear trousers, not pants, (only women wear pants). We don’t wear fatigues; we wear utilities or dungarees. We don’t drink from water fountains; we drink from scuttlebutts. We climb ladders not stairs. We put pictures on bulkheads not walls. We go on liberty, we don’t get a “pas.s” The floor is the deck. Information is “the word” or “poop” or “skinny” or even “scuttlebutt”, like the drinking fountain.

And our enemies remember us too. The Germans called us “Teufelhunden” in WW 1. It means Devil Dog. The North Korean feared the “Yellowlegs,” We wore sort of yellow colored puttees in Korea. Some units ran when they saw the Yellowlegs coming. An Army general told us “The safest place in Korea is behind a Marine platoon.”

We remember all this for years and years. Once a Marine, always a Marine. There are no ex- Marines, only former Marines. The motto of the former Marines is “Not as lean, not as mean, but still a Marine.”

But I digress… I’m sure I told you more than you want to know.

When I first met Brendan, I couldn’t get over how much he looked like his grandfather. They’re both a couple of inches over six feet and about a hundred and seventy or eighty pounds. Kind of a long, lean build. They both had wavy brown hair and blue-green eyes, although, now that I think about it Brian’s hair – he’s the grandfather -- might have been a little lighter. More like a dirty blonde. Their nose and mouth though …and the way they walked … all the same.

I had known Brendan’s father too, but not as well as his grandfather. He looked more like his mother. He was killed in Viet Nam, shortly after I got to work with him. We were in a tough spot and he was killed coming to the rescue of some of his men. From the little I saw, I could tell he was a fine officer, just like his father. They gave him a Navy Cross for that. That’s the second highest award, next to the Medal of Honor. He had been born while his father, that’s Brendan’s grandfather, was in Korea. Funny thing is, Brendan was born while his father was in Viet Nam. Their full names were Brian Alloyisius Manning. The troops called Brian Senior, BAM. Brian Junior was called BAM BAM. I suppose we could call Brendan BAM BAM BAM, but maybe that’s going a little too far. I called him “Trips” for Triple BAM.

Brendan was visiting me at my place here in the Keys. He was a newspaper journalist --a good one too according to his grandmother -- and was trying to do a story about the Marines during the early days of the Korean War. It was a dramatic time in the history of the Corps and he knew his grandfather had won a Medal of Honor for his part in the fighting around Chosin. He also knew that I was there when it happened, so they both, that’s Brendan and Darlene, his grandmother, figured I would be a good source of information.

My place in the Keys? That’s the Florida Keys. Let me tell you a little about that before we continue. It’s a full service Marina. We sell boats and we rent them. We also fix and them and service them. We rent slips and provide boating supplies. I take people fishing. We do the whole thing. I bought it shortly after I retired from The Marine Corps. The old guy who owned it before me had built up a pretty good business and I slid right into it with no problem. We got seven employees. He hung around awhile before he died to show me the ropes. He was a good guy.

It’s been a good business. With my retirement pay and what I make here, we live pretty good. Belle, my sweet little southern Belle, and I fixed up a real nice set of rooms for ourselves over the store. We got lots of room and we have a great view. We really enjoy being in sunny Florida. By the way, its called “Gunny’s”

Like I said before, I had been a Gunny for a few years when I was working my way up so I was proud to name it that way. Besides “Sergeant-Major’s” just doesn’t sound right for a business. Brendan teased me for using a Gunnery Sergeant’s chevrons as a logo for the Marina, but it seems to work. People remember it.

Well the day Brendan got here, we walked around the property a little and then he and Belle and I had a real nice lunch. Belle made some grouper salad sandwiches that were out of this world. To make the sandwiches, Belle kind of shreds the fish up and then mixes it with some chopped up celery, onions, mayo and mustard and some spices, and then she puts in on a thick slab of something called seven grain bread. Brendan really liked it too. He said, coming from Boston, he liked to eat fish. We also had a couple of beers. There’s a local beer here called Gator Beer. I told Brendan it was made from swamp water from the Everglades. I think he bought that at first, cause he only sipped at it, then he caught on that I was just pulling his leg.

After lunch, Belle left to do some shopping for dinner. She was going to get some fresh red snapper if she could. I had to laugh at her with Brendan. My wife, even in her sixties, is still a good-looking woman. Let me tell you, she’s all that I can handle. She’s still got a good figure and doesn’t look half her age. Now Brendan -- the lad is a refined, polite, good-looking boy – he kept calling her Ma’am -- and Belle just ate it up. She took an instant liking to him, even flirted a little. And she was intent on doing anything to please him. Hence the red snapper.

After she left, Brendan and I settled into a couple of the big sofas we have in the living room with our beers. From this point atop the store, we have a neat view of the Marina and the little cuts through the mangroves out to the deeper water.

In any event, when we sat down he was all business. He took out his tape recorder and placed it on the table. He stacked up some legal pads and cassettes next to it, along with a couple of pens. He told me he was going to let the recorder run continually, just shutting if off when he needed new tapes or batteries. I guess that’s how writers do things.

Before we began in earnest though, he had a couple of questions about one of the pictures on the wall in the guest bedroom he was using. I had kinda forgot they were back there. There’s a number of photos there that I brought back from Korea. I don’t remember who took them, but some have his grandfather in them. Others show some of the guys I served with. One was a group shot. It holds the place of honor on that wall. The guys in that picture were a special bunch. I don’t think anyone else has a picture of us all together like that. I go in there sometimes and just look at it and … remember. Sometimes I get tears in my eyes. Before, I talked about being proud to be a Marine; well I’m even more proud that I was part of that unique group.

Brendan was able to pick out his grandfather in a couple of the pictures, but his questions concerned a Gunnery Sergeant who was with his grandfather in one of the shots. I had to think for a moment, then I remembered. That was Gunny Caer. Sergeant Caer was one of the finest Marines I had ever met. He was the quintessential Gunnery Sergeant, if I can use the word again. He was a Gunny while I was still a Pfc. Brendan nodded his head. He had heard of Sergeant Caer, now he had a face.

Next he explained about how he had done a great deal of research on the times, the histories, the political atmosphere and all, but he needed information on the personalities and how we handled things and so on. I remember him saying that the Korean War is not the average American’s favorite War. Hardly … I agreed. Fittingly, it is often called The Forgotten War.

Those who do remember, recall that it was called a “Police Action” and it had left negative images. They remembered American troops being routed by Chinese ‘hordes’. They remembered American prisoners being taken from the battlefield and then brainwashed into disparaging their country. They remembered the stalemate years as two armies faced each other across a ripped and devastated ‘no mans land’. They recalled the seemingly endless peace talks where Chinese Generals hurled insults at UN Generals and UN Generals returned the ‘favor’. It was an ugly time.

But, like many noble endeavors, especially in war, along with the bad times, there are gallant times, successful times, and even awe-inspiring times. There were heroic efforts.

There were the battles around Pusan, where the UN forces, spearheaded by the Marines, stopped the North Koreans for the first time. There was the surprise invasion behind enemy lines at Inchon, the battles for Seoul and especially the almost unbelievable feat of beating a Chinese Army that outnumbered the Marines by ten to one, during two weeks of mountain fighting in arctic winds and sub-zero temperatures. That’s the Korean War that he wanted to write about.

That two weeks of fighting in the mountains against ten to one odds and in sub-zero temperatures, that’s the part that makes me shudder. But that’s also the part I was most proud of and I remember most. I was there.

He also had another question. It was the one his grandmother had told him to ask.

He wanted to know about the “Mad Dogs.”

Well how do I answer that? That was the special bunch in the photo I was talking about. Finally I looked at him and at his recorder. Then I said, “If that’s what you need to know then I guess we should start with the people…”

Definition: A U.S. Marine Rifle Squad circa 1950