Voices from the Korean War - Douglas Rice [23]
A few days later, while sharing my foxhole with Eddie—a squad member—we were being shelled by enemy mortars. When the shelling stopped, I asked him if he was alright, but I got no response. I turned to check on him and found that the back of his head had been blown off. We were only inches apart and I didn’t get a scratch. The Lord was obviously watching over me.
Shortly afterwards, we pulled back in reserve for about three days. By this time we had lost several men and with American replacements being unavailable, I received two ROK soldiers in my squad. They didn’t speak English, and I didn’t speak Korean, so there was a slight communication problem. One day I was cleaning my rifle while I was sitting in front of my tent, when one of the ROK soldiers noticed my ammo belt. It had suspenders to help ease the pressure on my hips and waist. He picked up the belt, removed the suspenders, attached them to his belt, and adjusted them to fit him—without ever saying a word. So, without saying a word, I picked up my rifle and hit him in the back of the head with the butt of the rifle, knocking him to the ground I reclaimed my suspenders. He must have gotten the message, because he never tried to steal from me again.
We returned back to the front and immediately came under enemy attack. Suddenly, my other ROK replacement got up and started to run away I turned around, took aim and shot him in the leg. He then crawled back to his position, and neither one of them ever bugged-out during an attack again.
One night during August, one of my men was manning a gun on top of a hill and while he was talking on a sound-powered telephone, lightning struck the wire and knocked him unconscious. After he came to, he was taken to the aid station, where they gave him two aspirins and told him to go back to his post.
During the last part of August we moved to new positions along the Naktong River. In the early days of September we were involved in several attacks and counterattacks, which resulted in heavy casualties on both sides. We received air support from Second World War vintage P-51’s. Within seconds after dropping their napalm canisters, at the base of the hill, fire swept to the top scorching everything in its path. As we took some of the hills that had been victims of napalm bombing, we found bodies that had their clothes completely burned off.
On the 11th of September, we were near the village of Shindo and were using a one-room house as our headquarters. Inside were Cleo Seeger, our radioman, and Lt. Damian Folch. It was mid-afternoon as I was walking past the doorway, when Seeger called for me to cover the radio so he could go to the latrine. For some unknown reason, I told him I didn’t want to go inside the house. Finally, the lieutenant ordered me inside.
We were providing cover fire for Charlie Company, whose commanding officer I knew from Japan. He was on the other end of the phone and as I put my end up to my ear, the room suddenly became full of smoke and dust. Dazed, I crawled outside; my glasses were gone and my back felt like it had been burned. Hearing the other two guys moaning inside the house, I went back in and brought Seeger out. He had been hit in the thigh with a piece of shrapnel, which penetrated his leg leaving a large exit wound. After applying a bandage to his wound, I went back for the lieutenant. When I got him outside, I noticed that one of his hands was just hanging on by skin—it had almost been severed. Captain Kueffer, our commanding officer, helped with getting his