Voices from the Korean War - Douglas Rice [36]
A few days later we came under an aerial attack and five guys—including Burr and myself—walked away from the group. Unfortunately, we were caught and taken back to the group. Later, we would make a second attempt of escaping; this time we had a better plan. We would walk down the road, in the open, telling the enemy that we had been released to go back and tell the Americans to stop fighting the Chinese, because they were good people. As we got close to the front lines, we could hear shooting in the distance, a squad leader stopped us and he didn’t believe our story. So, he had some men take us back.
After being back a few days, they began to divide our group, which had grown to about two-hundred men. They divided us in two groups; those who could, and couldn’t walk. Burr was placed in the group of those able to walk; I was placed in the other. Before the first group was moved north, Burr came by to say good-bye and to give me his fiancées address—in case he didn’t make it home. I never saw Burr again.
It had stopped snowing, and as it began to get dark, the healthy group started their journey north. As we sick were left behind, four soldiers remained to guard us. In our group there were twenty-eight men, including myself, who wanted to escape. The guards left to go cook their meal and they had not returned when darkness came, so we got up and walked away.
After traveling several days, I began to hemorrhage and had lost a lot of blood before I could get the bleeding under control. Just before daylight, a small group came to where I was and told me the group had talked it over and they were going to leave me. I told them to wait for daylight before they left, then told them good-bye and wished them luck.
Due to being weak, I fell asleep. Later, I heard footsteps as they approached and stopped next to me; I knew the Chinese had found me. Luckily for me, it was a guy from L Company—Joe Dorshefski. He informed me that Bill Mashburn and he had stayed behind.
Around noon, we decided to leave. As we neared a river, the “Gooks” began to shoot at us from a ridge. With Bill and Joe on each side of me, into the river we went. Lucky for us, across the river was a Marine outpost. Once they noticed we were being shot at, they sent out a patrol to get us—we were safe.
To my knowledge, none of the other twenty-five men were ever heard from again.
We were taken to a collection station where I underwent surgery to connect three severed arteries in my neck. From there I was flown by helicopter to a M.A.S.H. unit. After a brief stay, I went to the Tokyo Army Hospital and was treated by Colonel Childs. From the Tokyo Army Hospital, I ended up at Letterman Army Hospital—in San Francisco—where I stayed for seven months.
* * * * * *
A short time after being released from Letterman, Betty and I went to Gillespie, Texas. Here we visited with Hetty—Burr’s fiancée. Some years later, Guenther A. Burr showed up on the casualty list as having been captured and dying on July 15, 1951—from non-battles causes.
* * * * * *
After serving my country for twenty-four years, four months, and twenty-three days, I retired from the U.S. Army.
~~Eleven~~
Dillon Staas
8055 M.A.S.H.
U.S. Army
Land of the Morning Calm
Dillon Staas
Oh gentle, loving people of the land of morning calm,
Hold sacred your new freedom, and listen to my psalm.
The seed of many nations came from far across the sea,
And paid a price on your behalf, for freedom isn’t free.
The gripping fear, the stench of death, no longer fill your mind,
The horrors of the battlefield have all been left behind.
Your children, dreaming peaceful dreams, safe in your arms each night,
Wake with a smile of innocence, to face the morning light.
Your homes, secure, on quiet streets, bring comfort to the soul,
From verdant hillside terraces to valleys down below.
Your mountain streams, now running clear, without a trace of red,
No sound you hear, no crying, from the dying, and the dead.
So when good fortune smiles on you and fills your heart