It was another cold night in Germany and there was this shed behind our lines. Some of the GIs had a fire going on in it, burning anything they could get their hands on. The door had to be closed so as not to emit any light. The smoke was so thick in the shed you could only stay a few minutes. But it was so cold out, there was a line to get in just to warm your hands and feet.
You know I thought it was warm in Hell...
Now along with the trucks, came a German Shepard police dog. He must have been the mascot of the supply company. He was a beautiful animal, but he had a bad habit of biting American G.I.s. I suppose we smelled like outsiders. Lieutenant ordered the Sergeant to take care of the problem. It was sad, but necessary. This beautiful animal was taken to a ditch and shot. I'm glad the Lieutenant didn't ask me to do it. Killing doggies was not in my job description.
Speaking of dogs, at Camp Campbell I once pulled guard duty in a stockade housing naughty GIs. There were towers at the four corners of the jail with dogs patrolling in a runway, circling the structure. Winter nights in Kentucky were quite cold, so at two in the morning they moved the dogs to a warm place, but the 'dogfaces' had to stay in the air-conditioned towers until six in the morning. Brrrrrr!