Voices from the Korean War - Douglas Rice [38]
We were usually located near an airstrip, and we “midnight requisitioned” supplies from them often. One night we were getting some good mountain sleeping bags, to replace the thin blanket type we had been issued, when one of the guys tried to pick up a bag with a guard sleeping in it. We traded him a quart of medical alcohol (190 proof) for the bags and he went about his business, and we ours.
Another time we were stealing gasoline, and heating oil, from a rail car when someone threw a spotlight on us and yelled “hands up,” or something like that. It was a supply captain and he told us that his men had a twin-50 on a ring mount—on top of a six-by-six truck—and they were about to let loose on us when he came up. He let us keep what we had off the car, so we kept warm and cozy for a few days. The oil kept freezing in the lines and we could only heat the tents in the afternoons when it warmed up enough for the oil to flow. I slept with my clothes on and my head turned away from the opening of my bag. If we turned to face the hole, we could have woken up with a black, frostbitten nose.
Our chances of being able to hold on in Korea seemed pretty dark for a time, but we did hold and soon had a firm grip on the southern part of the peninsula. The unit moved back as far as Uijongbu, a few miles north of Seoul, and stayed there until I rotated home. I understand that they remained in that location until the end of the fighting.
~~Twelve~~
Lloyd Paul Summers
5th Marine Regiment
1st Marine Division
U.S. Marine Corps
After graduating from Waynesboro High School, in Waynesboro, Pennsylvania, in 1948, I joined the U.S. Marine Corps.
It was the summer of 1950, and Eugene—my brother who was also in the Marines—and I were both home on leave. Gene was stationed at Great Lakes Naval Air Station and I at Dover, New Jersey. Our parents took us to Washington D.C., to watch a baseball game at Griffith Stadium. Our team—the Yankees—were playing. As we were leaving the stadium, there stood a young boy selling newspapers, barking, “Extra, read all about it—Marines called to Korea.” Gene and I turned and looked at each other. When we returned home, he had a telegram—I didn’t. Needless to say, I was disappointed.
Gene shipped over with the whole division, and they flew me over later—in August. Arriving in Masan, South Korea as part of the first replacement draft, I was assigned to G Company, 3rd BN, 5th Marine Regiment. However, I did arrive in time to participate in the second battle of the Naktong River.
* * * * * *
On the morning of September 15th, the 3rd BN of the 5th Marines assaulted the island of Wolmi-do—beginning the Inchon Invasion.
While were in reserve, on the seventeenth, a lieutenant said they needed a platoon to go down to a village where some North Korean guerrillas had chased the villagers from their homes. I had a BAR and we went through all the houses and were ready to leave when someone said that we had better check out the backyard; what a mistake. Walking between two houses, I was the first to enter the backyard. There was something like a wheat field about fifty to one-hundred yards in front of me. As I scanned the area, I didn’t see anything.
Suddenly, another Marine pointed in front of me and said, “There’s one.” As soon as I turned to look, I saw a North Korean—in his brown uniform—sit down. I sprayed the area, and then all hell broke loose. The bullets were so close, I could hear them crackle as they flew by me. I quickly dropped, and as I was going down it felt as though I had brushed against a tree limb. It began to hurt, then I noticed there was no tree—I had been hit. I remember someone saying that where the bullet came out, one could bleed to death—I began to panic.
Luckily for me, the bullet entered my right shoulder and went down my back; it never came out. They had us pinned down, and I laid there