Voices from the Korean War - Douglas Rice [3]
The most terrifying experiences of the war for me were when I received my two Purple Hearts. I received one when we were in a convoy attempting to retreat, and were in danger of being overrun. The enemy had broken through our convoy and was picking off our trucks one-by-one, with deadly mortar fire. I was riding shotgun in our truck, when it stalled in a long line of vehicles. I immediately ordered everyone out of the truck and when all the guys had just gotten out, it went up in flames. We were under a lot of small arms fire, so we all ran. As we made our way across a rice paddy a bullet hit me in the right arm, which spun me around and knocked me to the ground. As I was getting up to run, I felt a stinging sensation in my left buttock. The back of my pants leg was soaked, and my boot was squishing with what I thought was blood. Finally, we made it over the top of a small hill—out of the line of fire—when we stopped to assess our situation. When I reached for my canteen, it was empty. Why? I had just filled it an hour or two earlier. I soon discovered two, neat, round holes in the bottom of it. The “blood” that had soaked my pants leg, and filled my boot, was the warm water from my canteen; the wound to my buttock was nothing more than a scratch. I can’t remember if I laughed or cried—maybe both.
This was enough to get me a few days on clean white sheets, in a hospital back in Japan. When I returned to my unit, I was glad to see all my buddies. Shortly after this, I had enough points to rotate home.
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On August 23, 1951, just after dusk, the General John Pope approached the California coast with 4,290 soldiers returning home.
Thank God—I was home.
~~Three~~
Richard “Dick” Franklin
15th FA BN
2nd Infantry Division
U.S. Army
Having been born in Tampa, Florida, my family moved to Miami when I was young. It was here that I enlisted in the U.S. Army in February of 1950.
During the first part of June, I finished my basic training at Fort Knox, Kentucky. After which time, I was sent to Seattle to wait for overseas deployment. Instead, we were all sent to Fort Lewis, Washington to fill vacant spots in the 2nd Infantry Division. A school classmate, who I joined with, was sent to the 9th Infantry Regiment and I went to B Battery of the 15th FA BN.
Arriving in Korea on the last day of July, we were sent directly to the front line. Those days on the Naktong were pure hell.
After the successful landing at Inchon, and the liberation of Seoul, we headed north. It was November and we were located in the North Korean town of Kunu-ri when the Chinese entered the war. The 2nd Infantry Division held the line while outfits on our left flank were able to get out. With the exception of us, and the 23rd Infantry Regiment, the rest of the division headed down a road only to run into the damnest roadblock ever. The Chinese had apparently broken through the ROK, who were on our right flank, and set up an ambush that was ten miles long. Our losses, both in men and equipment, were terrible. The 15th FA got out with most of its men, but lost all its guns.
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In early February of 1951, we stopped the Chinese at a town called Wonju. The 15th FA, the 1st Battalion of the 38th Infantry Regiment, a battery of 155 howitzers, some anti-aircraft units, and tanks—a total of 1,800 men—were sent up to support the ROK in their attack. We had set up for fire support, and sometime after dark the Chinese hit the ROK hard. The ROK soon collapsed and the Chinese came though getting some distance south of us. We tried to fight our way out, but they had the road well covered with automatic weapons and mortars. I was firing at the hills on both sides of the road as I began walking out. Soon I became separated from the rest of the unit, so I continued on alone.
At one point I was trading fire with a Chinese when an officer came running towards me yelling, “Don’t shoot. Those are our guys up there.” About that time a “Chink” fired a burst from his burp gun and with