Voices from the Korean War - Douglas Rice [165]
Our George Company was waiting the battle out. We were to backup the 5th if they failed. I can still see and hear the fireworks.
It was late in the afternoon when we relieved the 5th, and they were pretty shot up. This one soldier, who was being carried on a litter, told me as I passed him that we wouldn’t last the night on that outpost.
Stan Schaaf, who had earlier transferred from Charlie to Baker Company, was also on this outpost. Later, he would have to go help pickup, and identify, his old buddies from Charlie Company. Apparently, when they finally took the hill, they were so tired they all feel asleep and were stabbed to death in their fart-sacks—sleeping bags.
November finally arrived and Lt. Chico DeVera, a former prisoner of war during World War II, had gone up in a reconnaissance plane to locate the enemy in their newly dug bunkers. This way he would know where we were to go after dark. Knowing how rumors spread in the military, we had been told that Fox Company had gone on a similar patrol just a few days earlier. And the “Chinks” waited until the patrol was in hand grenade range—wiping out the patrol.
I was assistant squad leader and was responsible for getting the patrol out on time. So, we blackened our faces and prepared to move out. Of course we were all scared out of our wits, because we had a different label for this type of patrol—a suicide patrol. Thank God, the “Chinks” had moved. However, we had to lie there in the cold November weather for four hours before BN Headquarters allowed us to return. We had to convince the gung-ho DeVera, the “Chinks” had heard us and had withdrawn in a valley to set up an ambush for us.
Being the last man in the column, I was ordered not to leave any wounded behind! The first trouble we ran into was one of our own minefields. We were told to do an about-face and try to walk as near the same path out, as we walked in. So, instead of Norbert Vanyo, the point man, being the leader—I was. We didn’t hit any mines.
During Operation Clobber—in November—the 70th Tank BN came up along side us and fired continuously for seventy-two hours at the enemy on the ridges across from us. Can you imagine trying to sleep during this time?
On the 16th of November, I spent my twenty-second birthday peeking out from a dark, cold, filthy bunker overlooking the Chorwon Valley—in North Korea. Later in the day, I would go on patrol stringing barbed wire. The “Chinks” always seemed to know when we were out of our holes, and vulnerable.
This particular day was one of my worst shelling experiences! No one—unless you’ve been there—can imagine the helpless feeling of lying on the ground as shells fell all around, hitting others and wondering if you would be next! I can still smell the smoke from the exploded shells.
When we finally returned to safety in our stinking trench, I told my foxhole buddy—Elmer Van Scoik—how awful it would have been to have been killed on my birthday. Like there would have been a good time to get killed!
Towards the end of November, the 7th Cavalry, along with all elements of the 1st Cavalry Division learned they would be leaving Korea. We were to be replaced by the 45th Infantry Division.
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It was the 18th of December, 1951, and members of the 7th Cavalry packed their gear and headed to Inchon to board a ship headed for Japan. After sailing for four days, we docked at Muroran, Japan, where we were taken to Camp Crawford.
It was snowing like crazy when I started my hour long guard duty on Christmas Eve. However, it was still a pleasant change from Korea. The camps loudspeakers were playing Christmas carols, and I knew at the end of my walk I was going to the base theater where a Japanese choir was singing carols; one stanza in English and one in Japanese.
Since I didn’t have enough points to rotate home, in March