The Dream Lives On

Odds Were Against War Emblem's Existence

In March 1971, thoroughbred racing was preparing for a coronation. A magnificent colt named Hoist the Flag was blazing toward the Kentucky Derby, conjuring up images of his grandsire, Triple Crown winner War Admiral. "I don't think he'll ever get beat," raved his jockey, Jean Cruguet, "unless he falls down." As Hoist the Flag scorched through workouts at Belmont Park, onlookers watched with giddy anticipation. Everyone expected to see the colt back at the same track a few weeks later, capturing the Belmont Stakes to complete the Triple Crown sweep.

Then, horror. On March 31, as Hoist the Flag skimmed through a workout, he took an awkward step, hammering his full weight down on his right hind leg in a twisting motion. Without warning, his leg bones exploded. With Cruguet frantically pulling him up, Hoist the Flag hopped to a halt. The veterinarians' report was grim: The colt was mortally injured. When Hoist the Flag's impending euthanasia was announced, the shock reverberated throughout Belmont. At the last moment, two surgeons stepped in to make a desperate attempt to save the colt. So began an extraordinary series of events that has resonated across three decades, radically altering the history of racing. It is a story that may come to a remarkable and fitting conclusion this Saturday, as War Emblem tries for the Triple Crown.

Hoist the Flag's injury was catastrophic. His cannon bone, running from ankle to knee, had split vertically, and a four-inch long section had snapped off and slid out of place. Below it, the colt's long pastern bone, running from ankle to hoof, was utterly shattered.

In 1971, the standard treatment for a leg fracture was to apply a plaster cast. But a cast couldn't address so severe an injury. Because Hoist the Flag's bones were painfully fragmented and unstable, the colt was sure to lean heavily onto his opposite hind leg, leaving it highly prone to laminitis, an excruciating, often fatal hoof disease. Getting him to lie down throughout convalescence wasn't an option; because of their immense weight, horses suffer from impeded breathing and circulation when recumbent, so they can't stay down long. And efforts to get horses to tolerate suspension from slings had been disappointing. In the opinion of the attending veterinarians, Hoist the Flag was doomed.

Two surgeons disagreed. One was the late Jacques Jenny, DMV, a legendary innovator in veterinary orthopedics. The other was William Reed, DVM, who would later become famous for trying to save Ruffian. Examining the horse after the decision to euthanize had been made, Jenny and Reed brainstormed and came up with a new option: Using untried surgical techniques, there was a slim chance that they could save the colt. The owner asked them to try. It was, at best, a shot at the moon. "It was risky," remembers Reed. "Everything had to fall into place."

At Reed's equine hospital across the street from Belmont, Hoist the Flag was anesthetized and Jenny and Reed set to work. To repair the split cannon bone, they got creative. In Switzerland at that time, surgeons were treating the broken legs of skiers with a revolutionary technique called compression, in which bones were reconstructed, then reinforced with screws and plates. In skiers, compression stabilized bones, promoted rapid healing, and by preventing bone fragments from rubbing together, eliminated pain. Compression worked in 150-pound skiers; it was virtually untested in 1,100-pound horses. But it was Hoist the Flag's only hope. Jenny and Reed pieced the horse's cannon bone together, covered it with a metal plate, secured it with screws and hoped for the best.

Treating the pulverized long pastern called for additional innovation. After cleaning out the myriad bone fragments that were too crushed to save, Jenny and Reed used wire to weave the remaining pieces into place. They had to remove so much bone that there wasn't enough left to bear weight, so they tried another new technique, grafting bone from other areas of the horse's body directly onto the fracture. Hoist the Flag, his leg bound in a newly developed fiberglass cast, was slid into a recovery stall. The surgeons waited.

Hoist the Flag awoke. Soon after, he struggled to his feet. The leg held, and he stood without pain. He was soon walking comfortably.

Jenny and Reed had done the impossible. Hoist the Flag survived. He would become an exceptional sire, bequeathing his talent to generations of offspring. The story wasn't over. One morning in 1986, 15 years after Hoist the Flag walked out of Reed's hospital, a 2-year-old filly named Personal Ensign limped in. Fresh off a smashing victory in her first race, she had fractured the long pastern of her left hind leg in a workout, splitting the bone straight through. A glance at her pedigree revealed a striking coincidence: The filly was Hoist the Flag's granddaughter.

Had she been injured in her grandsire's day, Personal Ensign would never have raced again. But thanks to the pioneering work done on Hoist the Flag and other landmark cases, Dr. Reed and Larry Bramlage, DVM, were able to repair the injury with five compression screws. Personal Ensign not only returned to racing, she went on a rampage, becoming one of only two horses in the 20th century to retire unbeaten after a full career. She ran 12 of her 13 races on the repaired limb and retired dollar sound.

On the strength of her brilliant record, Personal Ensign won the chance to be bred to racing's greatest sire, Mr. Prospector. The result was a talented racehorse named Our Emblem, who went to stud in 1997. In 1999, his son, lithe and black, was born. In keeping with the family tradition of flag-themed names, they called him War Emblem.

This Saturday, from a box above the Belmont finish line, Dr. Reed will watch War Emblem, grandson of Personal Ensign, great-great grandson of Hoist the Flag, hunt for the Belmont Stakes and the Triple Crown, the prize his mighty forebear was seeking when he was injured on this same track. Thirty years after Drs. Reed and Jenny made a daring decision to save a great racehorse's life, their story has come full circle.

Laura Hillenbrand is the author of the bestseller "Seabiscuit: An American legend." She lives in Washington.