Voices from the Korean War - Douglas Rice [64]
That night several Chinese had busted noses or bad headaches after I grabbed my helmet by the chinstrap and used it as a weapon. I then drew my .45 pistol, emptying a clip into the enemy. I heard an officer’s voice, in the background, yell for the first platoon to pull back and join up with other defenders to seal off the break. This was the last time I saw any of my men on East Hill.
To reload my pistol, I dropped into a shell-hole that contained three-or-four motionless Marines. Quickly reloading my .45, I started to leave the hole when someone said, “Bob, don’t leave me.” I looked around and there lay Cpl. Dick Haller, squad leader of the other machine gun attached to the first platoon. This meant both of the machine guns of the first platoon were out of action.
Having been shot in both legs, Haller was unable to walk. By this time the Chinese were everywhere and the Marines were engaged in hand-to-hand combat. Our only chance to safety was down the reverse slope of the hill. I grabbed Haller, by the hood of his parka, and headed for the slope. I slipped and stumbled numerous times, and emptied my last clip on the Chinese between us and the slope. Finally, we reached the slope as several Chinese approached us. With no more clips, I threw my .45 at them, yelling, “Shoot you bastards.” I don’t know if I hit any of them, or if any of them shot at us. Halfway down I jammed my left foot into a protruding rock, sending a sharp pain up my leg. After a short rest, I grabbed Haller and started back down the hill.
As we reached the bottom, a platoon of 41 Commandos was beginning to go up the hill to help seal the break. Standing by his jeep was PFC Jim Feemster, so I hobbled over and asked him to help me get Haller to sickbay. After loading him into the back of the jeep, we took off to get medical help. When we arrived, as soon as I exited the jeep, a bullet whizzed by and slammed into Feemster’s right thigh—now I had two men to care for. Hobbling into sickbay, with these two wounded Marines, I asked a corpsman for help.
Before I could leave, a Navy surgeon told me to remove my shoepac. On the back of my heel was a knot the size of a golf ball—a ruptured Achilles tendon. He informed me that I was now out of action and would be flown to a hospital in Japan.
George Company suffered another 35 percent in casualties; they now had fewer than one-hundred men on the line. They continued to hold East Hill until the 5th of December, when they were relieved by the 5th Marines.
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After the battle at the Chosin Reservoir, the 1st Marine Division was put in reserve near Masan, South Korea. This is where I rejoined George Company in late January 1951.
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When they arrived at Masan, only sixty-seven of the original 255 men of George Company that landed at Inchon, answered the roll call. The company was refitted and ready for battle—again—by the end of January.
There was a division sized guerrilla force operating in the mountains around Pohang, South Korea; the division’s first assignment was to eliminate it. This turned out to be a tedious task, but it was a good opportunity to train our new replacements. It helped get their combat legs in shape for the mountainous terrain that laid ahead. By early March we had accomplished our mission, and then we moved to the central part of South Korea to face the Chinese that were advancing deeper into the country.
During one stretch we were on the attack for forty-five days straight. This meant digging forty-five foxholes in forty-five days, but they were necessary for our