Voices from the Korean War - Douglas Rice [39]
While recovering in Japan, they put us through drills everyday. We had grown very tired of this, so they started a rumor about needing volunteers to sign-up for guard duty in the Philippines or Alaska. After we signed the petition, the next morning we were all marched to warehouse and given weather gear; big, OD parkas that hung below the knees. We had made a mistake. They loaded us onto a boat, and the next thing we knew we were landing in North Korea. We were told that the Marines were headed north to the Yalu River. Also, that the Marines were to set up defensive positions, then we would be relieved by the Army and we would be going to Japan.
When we arrived in a valley before reaching the Chosin Reservoir, it was snowing and the temperature was falling. They said the temperature was thirty-to-fifty below zero.
It was the night before the Chinese hit us, and I had just laid down for the first time. With our rifles between us, my buddy and I got into my sleeping bag. We had been told not to keep a round in the chamber, but I did—I wanted to be ready. However, I did keep the safety on.
Before crawling into the bag, I took off my “Mickey Mouse” boots. I guess it was between 1:30 or 2:00 AM when suddenly the shooting started, along with some mortar fire. A Marine came running through the snow yelling for everyone to get up, the Chinese were coming. Due to my hands being frozen, I could not get my boots tied, so I just pulled them up. Without knowing it, I grabbed my buddy’s rifle.
They told us—George Company—to quickly form a skirmish line. The Chinese were coming over a hill, which we were ordered to take and hold. As we started up, the Chinese were throwing percussion grenades at us; one of which picked up my foxhole buddy, and threw him to the ground. I shook his foot and when he didn’t respond, I thought he was dead. However, he had just been knocked unconscious.
When we reached the top, it was beginning to get daylight. I noticed smoke, as if it were coming from a campfire, but there were no flames. As it got lighter, I noticed large mounds everywhere; they were dead Chinese. The warm blood flowing in the cold snow was the source of the smoke.
At the Chosin Reservoir, the Chinese had us outnumbered by fifteen-to-one. When word came for us leave, we had to fight our way out. And guess who was given the task of rear guard? George Company!
While we were on top of the hill, word came down for us to hold at all cost, so the rest of the division could start moving south towards Hagaru-ri. They informed us when word came for us to leave, for us to throw all the grenades we had down the hill, into the valley. I had about six-or-seven, and we had them—plus my buddies—lined up around our foxhole. A grenade has about a seven second fuse, which I usually held until the count of four.
The following morning, Corsairs dropped napalm on the Chinese—killing hundreds. While we were sitting in our foxhole, a Corsair swooped down towards us. My buddy said, “He’s going to shoot us. He thinks we’re Chinese.” At that moment, the pilot let his rockets go—we could see them coming. We quickly covered our heads and one exploded close to us, spraying shrapnel. A piece missed my knee by four-or-five inches.
Word finally came; getting rid of our hand grenades we quickly exited our foxhole, and ran down the hill—tripping in the snow. We had no more than got off the hill, when the Chinese started lobbing white phosphorus mortars all over the hill.
The next day we started down the road to Hagaru-ri and didn’t get very far—there was a roadblock. The Chinese were on a hilltop firing down on us. We received word that if the division didn’t get through the roadblock by afternoon, then we would have