Then, one day, he started throwing himself to ground without any incoming noises at all. For a while, everyone around went "Awwww" and said "Look, he's trying to be human." Then, when the first explosions shook the trench, they quickly realized that dogs hear pretty well. Throughout his mimicking antics, Rags had been employing his Pavlovian powers. He now realized that the high-pitched incoming sounds equal explosions, and knew what to do. And so it came to be that the men of his unit soon found themselves imitating Rags.
They even replaced "Oh shit!" with a sort of yelping sound.
His new status as a lifesaver made Rags a celebrity. He capitalized on his fame by circling all the mess halls he could find, cashing in on his reputation for the finest wartime food available and never once returning to a hall if he felt he hadn't received a warm enough welcome there. His freewheeling antics were only limited after he got into a fight with Theodore Roosevelt Jr.'s cat, the survival of which was likely an achievement in itself.
In July of 1918, Rags was charged with delivering yet another important message. Rags was out in the open when the Germans launched a gas attack, catching him without his doggy gas mask. Undeterred, he took all that the Germans could hit him with, and delivered the message ... then passed away.