A baboon who excelled in his sentinel duties, dogs targeted by snipers and the silent, deadly killers on the Balkan front – there was no monkey around for the animals ensnared in the First World War

Thousands of animals died in the Great War, but they also served as morale boosters for tired and half-broken men: not only the faithful dogs and horses, but also goats, pigs and even a baboon. Corporal Jackie, who served with the 3rd South African Infantry, excelled in his guard duty.

In Nicholas Milton’s excellent new history, he recalls his own grandfather’s admiration for the “dogs with medical packs and red crosses on their backs” who brought aid to soldiers wounded at Gallipoli. The dogs were often targeted by snipers.

Yet one small, overlooked creature arguably had a greater impact than any other. The mosquito was murderous on the Balkan front. “A significant portion of the deaths in Salonika died of malaria,” Milton says. The sick were returned to England, where there was a treatment camp on the Isle of Sheppey. The local population soon also contracted malaria, but the Ministry of Health denied any responsibility.

Then there were the rats. ‘Every time you wake up [they] fighting and squealing all over you,” Lt. Alfred Johnson recalled. “The other day someone took a flying leap in my face…” Those who were already exhausted and suffering from shell shock were able to drop the rats over the edge.

But it’s the dogs that tell us the best stories. My favorite here is Fritz, who survived when a German trawler was sunk by HMS Falmouth in 1914, floating on a plank of wood. The sailors called him Old Bill and he survived the Battle of Jutland in 1916, although he suffered three shrapnel wounds. He was rescued again when the Falmouth finally sank off Flamborough Head, and spent a happy retirement at Plymouth Barracks, where he was honored with a full naval funeral on his death.

Dogs’ keen hearing made them invaluable warning systems, as they took cover when they heard shells coming in. One dog even quickly cleared himself a ditch and lay down as flat as possible, in wise imitation of his human companions.

And then there were the noble, indestructible horses. Of the approximately one million horses that went to war for Britain, almost half died.

A major survivor was Warrior, belonging to Major General John Seely. He learned to gallop in a ‘swerve or zigzag when he heard the pinging sound of bullets’, and got Seely safely through the last major cavalry charge from Moreuil Wood in 1918.

They returned to the Isle of Wight on Christmas Day and then spent many happy days riding around Mottistone Down. In 1938 they took a ride there on the occasion of the centenary, after they had reached the age of 100 together. It must have felt far away from Ypres.

Warrior died in 1941, aged 32.