Voices from the Korean War - Douglas Rice [32]
The following morning we found the occupants of the jeep, approximately two-hundred yards from the roadblock; all three were dead from multiple gunshot wounds as well as being badly beaten. The lieutenant’s ring finger had been broken off—we assumed they took his ring. We had all seen casualties from gunshots, but never anyone that had been beaten.
This was the end of our roadblock duty.
We went back to the top of the pass, and took our place on the line. From our position we could look down on the beach at Hungnam. We could see that all the tanks and artillery pieces that had not been loaded aboard the ships had been placed hub-to-hub, in a semi-circle around the dock area. When I say hub-to-hub, they were less than ten yards apart. In the harbor was the battleship Missouri, along with ships equipped with smaller caliber guns. At night the Missouri fired 16 inch flares to illuminate the area for the artillery forward observers. The temperature was still hovering around thirty below zero, and the faintest light shown by the enemy was fatal for them. If they attempted to light a fire, it was usually their last act before meeting their ancestors.
We, the 17th, were next to the last infantry troops to board ships; the last being the 65th Infantry Regiment of the 3rd Infantry Division. After being very cold for so long, the heat and warmth of the ship was, and is, beyond description.
I have no earthly idea where we landed in South Korea, but when we debarked we were told that we could no longer burn buildings for the purpose of getting warm. The houses all had rice straw roofs, and they burned very well. We were just trying to help out by killing all the lice. By the way, we were all lousy to the max.
We then took a fairly short train ride—short in miles, long in hours. The morning after our arrival at our new positions, the entire regiment lined up according to company. What equipment we had was laid out if front of us as we stood for a Division Command Inspection. How absurd, considering what we had just come through!
I, and most of the other guys, had a weapon, cartridge belt, canteen (or at least the cup), mess kit with spoon, P-38 can opener, sleeping bag, and the clothes on my back—including lice. We were a pretty sad looking bunch of guys. Today as I look back on it—we looked defeated.
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In early February, we were on a mountain pass above Wonju. The enemy was so close that the artillery was firing at maximum elevation. While we were holding the line, two full ROK divisions ran by us; they were bugging out. However, they were stopped a few miles down the road. All their officers, and senior NCO’s, were replaced and the division’s were sent back to help defend Wonju. It was a major road junction that was still in UN hands, and had to be held.
Later in February we moved to the area of Hoensong. By this time I had become the 3rd platoon machine gunner. We fought several battles in the mountains around Hoensong. During one engagement, I was down behind my gun when I felt something hit my leg just below the knee. I started raising hell about somebody throwing rocks. It wasn’t a rock; it was a bullet that didn’t have enough velocity to penetrate the flesh.
By March we were in the vicinity of a small town called Tamani. We came down off a ridge line, crossed a narrow valley, and assaulted another ridge line to our front. It was heavily defended by the Chinese. We advanced approximately three-hundred yards before they pinned us down. I quickly set up my machine gun and began firing. Between me and the other two platoon machine guns, we were very effective. Incoming bullets were hitting so close in front of me, mud was splattering in my face. In times like these, a person will do dumb things; I cursed, yelled and kept on killing Chinese.
By now we were taking on mortar