ROA remembers the forgotten war Korea

"[T]he enemy, in April 1953, decided he needed to conclude the war with a 'victory'...," General Matthew Ridgway writes in his book The Korean War. He continues:

"Near the end of May 1953, the Chinese began a series of attacks that constituted their final offensive and continued almost to the signing of the armistice. They first struck in the IX Corps area at the base of the Iron Triangle, and ... they aimed their first blows at the South Korean positions. Fire from howitzers and mortars was exceptionally heavy and the Chinese attacked in regimental strength. But this time the South Koreans held fast and the Chinese, withdrawing, were severely hurt by zeroed in fire from corps and division artillery....

"The Chinese tried again in an attack against five outposts in the I Corps area, held by the 25th Division's Turkish Brigade. The fighting here reached a desperate pitch, with the Chinese apparently determined to seize these outposts at any cost.... For the three outposts they had gained in a two-day battle, the enemy paid a forbidding price: an estimated 2,200 killed and 1,075 wounded. The Turks lost 471, including 104 killed in action....

"Finally, on June 10, six weeks before the war was destined to end, the major Chinese effort to shove back the battle lines began. It was the mightiest blow to fall upon our forces since the spring offensive in 1951...."

In their Korean War stories this month, ROA members describe activity in the Kaesong area, a superior officer's hold-up, a kidnap disconnect, and night-time missions over Korea.

Kaesong, Korea Spring 1953

BG Harry J. Mott III, AUS (Ret.), of Hempstead, N.Y., was a second lieutenant with the 27th Infantry Regiment. He describes spring 1953 as follows:

The heavy mortar company's three platoons were employed either on line or directly behind the Main Line of Resistance (MLR) [in the vicinity of Kaesong] because of the wide valley between us and the enemy positions. The first night on line, I heard it begin in the 1st Battalion area and it was picked up and carried down the line through the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Battalions. It was the howl of the Wolfhounds. One after another, moving from right to left, that howl rolled down our entire line. It made the hair on my neck stand up. Either that night or the next, the 'Dragon Lady' came on the loudspeakers and announced, "Welcome, Wolfhounds." So much for obscuring all bumper markings and removing patches for security's sake.

The Dragon Lady played some good music for us, but occasionally she would single out a particular soldier by name and make a comment such as, "Sergeant William from Podunk. Don't worry about your wife Pam being lonely; your friend Charlie is taking good care of her:' It was scary and reasonably effective.

We were fortunate to have that broad valley between the North Korean Peoples Army (NKPA) and/or the Chinese Peoples Volunteer Army (CPVA). Our Outpost Pig was about 1,500 yards in front of the MLR. The enemy's nearest strongpoint in front of our position was Hill 86. It was pounded regularly and was devoid of vegetation. There were several machine gun bunkers and 76mm guns in caves on this strongpoint. We were treated regularly to air strikes on this hill by P51s, F4FU Corsairs and jets. It was a good show until the day some 76s caught us out in the open and sent us ducking for cover. On one mission, a Corsair evidently got hit and was flying crab style, but surrounded by his buddies. There was something hanging from one wing and suddenly it came loose. The platoon sergeant looked at me and said, "I think it's a bomb." I concurred and we quickly got below ground. Fortunately, it landed on the other side of the hill and did no damage.

There were also air strikes near Panmunjom, off to our right front. The NKPA or CPVA had emplaced artillery just outside the no-fire zone around Panmunjom, so that we were always in danger of an 'incident if our forces fired into or bombed inside the zone.

Tactically, we were in a tenuous location. The 3rd Battalion, which we supported, was the last unit on the mainland in the west. About a mile behind us was the Imjin River. Freedom Bridge was a single span off to our right rear. It was the only crossing in the area. Extensive mud flats were on the south side of the Imjin. There was really no place to fall back to if we were driven out of our positions. So, we didn't worry about it. The choices were simplified.

On my second trip to Outpost Pig, the ground around me began to erupt in small spurts. So much for not getting shot at in ones or twos. I took off for the outpost like a scalded dog. Got there in Olympic time. Made my way through the twisted safe lane in the protective wire and tumbled into a trench. My friend LT Gene Girman, outpost commander, was there, laughing his butt off. He had a sergeant take my camera and take a picture of us. I'm the frazzled one. That picture hangs on my wall today....

It was necessary to relocate so our mortars could be spaced 25 yards apart, instead of two abreast and two deep behind them. We selected a horseshoe-shaped draw at the base of the reverse slope of the MLR and began to build gun pits, ammo bunkers and living quarters. Outside of sandbags, tarpaper and barbed wire, there were no building supplies available. However, the platoon had a plethora of resourceful and innovative talent. The artillery had left some unguarded heavy planks and, lo and behold, a flatcar of cross ties and switch ties was found on an unguarded railroad siding.... The walls of the bunker were made of 4.2 ammo boxes. Two rounds came in a box. The boxes were filled with dirt. The end result was a beautiful new position and very sturdy bunkers....

Father Goff, our Catholic chaplain, came up to say Mass. We moved a jeep out of a revetment and he set up shop. Shortly after Mass started, a single round came in about 200 yards down the line. A minute later, one landed 150 yards away; the next, a minute later, 100 yards. About this time, I noticed parts of the Mass were being abbreviated, and suddenly, "The Mass is ended. Go in peace," and we did, quickly. Father joined me in my bunker and said, "Harry, I'm getting too short for this stuff."

A few days later, as I was leaving my bunker to go to the latrine, I stopped to pick up a copy of Stars and Stripes off the radio. The pause saved my life. As I turned toward the door, a 120mm mortar round landed just to the left of the bunker, blew away a Korean earthen job, two airing sleeping bags, and shredded the doorjamb. The concussion slammed me into the far wall and I was unconscious for several minutes. I bled from the nose, mouth and ears. When I came to, it looked as though I'd been tarred and feathered because the feathers from the ruined sleeping bags had drifted in and stuck to the blood. I also lost hearing; fortunately it slowly returned during the following week. I declined evacuation and just had a soldier walk with me for the next several days until I could hear incoming rounds again. I dug a nasty piece of shrapnel out of the doorway and still have it as a souvenir....

1952-1953

K-45 Chunchon, Korea

Lt Col Paul S. Phillips, USAF (Ret.), of Tavares, Fla., is a veteran of World War II, Korea, and Vietnam. Shot down in his B-17 during World War II in July 1944, he spent almost a year in a German POW camp, then walked the Black Death March about 745 km through Germany He was recalled from the Ohio Air National Guard in 1951 for Korea and spent 14 months in-theater. He recalls a Korean experience:

My most vivid memory was as a member of the 6127th Air Terminal Group at K-45, Chunchon. This was close to the fighting near the 38th Parallel. We were responsible for handling passengers and cargo from aircraft arriving and departing the base. We could also hold an aircraft if needed.

We received a message from the Air Evacuation Unit to hold a C-47 for them. Being a second lieutenant, I informed the pilot of this delay and told him I would be holding his aircraft for an undetermined time. The pilot, a captain, let me know in no uncertain terms of his displeasure.

About 20 minutes later, we could hear a chopper approaching, but were unprepared for the cargo. A stretcher was on the side of the chopper and we could see a person in it. It was a GI who had been shot at the front lines. A bullet had entered his temple, and his head was swathed in bandages. He was accompanied by a doctor and a nurse.

It was disclosed later that his optic nerve had been damaged. We also learned later that the only doctor who could operate on him was visiting the Seoul Hospital. When the aircraft pilot saw this man, in this condition, and the situation that led to our holding his aircraft, he apologized for his outburst.

We never found out what happened to the GI, if he recovered or not. This situation impressed on me how luck or divine intervention can alter a situation dramatically.

June 1952-June 1953 Near 38th Parallel

LTC Kennard D. (Ken) Fearing, USAR (Ret.), of Iowa City, Iowa, was a sergeant first class serving with the 45th Infantry Division near the 38th Parallel. He submits the following recollection that he titles "Chinese Phone Call."

Near the end of the Korean conflict, I was an assistant platoon sergeant of an infantry rifle platoon that consisted mainly of KATUSAs (Korean Augmentation Troops to the U.S. Army). Since the front, in our area, had been relatively quiet, it was thought the Chinese were saving ammunition to make a big push.

My platoon was ordered to make an assault on a reinforced outpost in an attempt to get a prisoner for questioning. To keep in contact with headquarters, one of the Korean soldiers was loaded down with a phone and a double doughnut roll of communication wire. We had a heavy snow the night before, and then during the day the sun came out and melted some of it, which froze again, making a crunchy noise when we walked.

Dressed in white, we were very close to the outpost, unnoticed. We saw a Chinese soldier outside the trench clearing a lane for a machine gun. The plan was for another soldier and me to quietly approach him from each side, grab him, and leave, before the soldiers in the outpost knew of our presence.

As we came very close to the soldier, we got down on our hands and knees to complete our kidnap plan, but the brittle, crunchy snow did not cooperate, and gave our position away to the entire outpost. As we drew a fast withdrawal under fire, I noticed the small Korean soldier with the phone and wire was getting bogged-down in the deep snow. I went back for him and yelled, "Ding-wa catchie sayonara," meaning "Get rid of the phone and wire and get back to our lines."

We returned to our lines without major injuries but without a prisoner. One of the few fond memories I have of those times is the humor of the Korean soldiers. Whenever I would get a call from our command post, one would grab the phone and with a grin on his face state, "Chinese wanna talka you."

January 1953

Kadena AFB, Okinawa

Col Joseph C. Beck, USAFR (Ret.), of Little Rock, Ark., was a second lieutenant with 370th Bomb Squadron, 307 Bomb Wing/Group, at McDill AFB, Fla., when assigned to the 370th in Okinawa on a six-month, 30-mission tour. He writes as follows:

I arrived at Naha NAS on the morning after Christmas 1952.... We arrived at Kadena as a green crew--Capt Nelson J. Davis, our AIC; Maj William X. Zeidler, our nav; 1st Lt Virgil K. Landers, radar operator; Lt John Powers, bombardier; Airman Jordan, radio operator; four gunners fresh from school; and a flight engineer who was an old-timer.

We got in an orientation flight 28 December, with additional flights on 6 and 8 January 1953. We flew our first combat mission on 10 January. It was a mission to hit Pyongyang, the capital of North Korea. We flew a bomber stream with about 30 seconds between airplanes in the pitch black. The radar searchlights were pretty good but could be distracted with chaff. We had the wing commander on board and were the second plane in the stream. I was handling the communications for him, and we were shortly off the target when we lost one of our planes to anti-aircraft fire. It was quite an introduction to Korea.

Our second mission was on 12 January. It was pretty uneventful except that we lost another aircraft from one of the other squadrons.... At that time we thought that it was somewhat curious that we would lose an aircraft on each of our first two missions.

The third mission followed on the 21st, and I was again handling communications for the squadron. We had gotten off the target and were heading south when I had a call from one of our aircraft that had been hit by a lucky MiG that spotted the B-29 by accident. They were losing altitude and going to bail out. I was the last person the co-pilot talked with as he left the plane. (I later saw his name on the POW exchange list, so he made it out all right. Forty years later, I would meet him at the 50th anniversary of the first B-29 flight sponsored by Boeing in Seattle.)...

Losing three aircraft on three missions did not make you really want to fly all 30 missions, because there were only 30 aircraft in the wing. We were stood down for several days. I think the next missions were flown on the 27th. During this time, we changed tactics in such a way as to put the aircraft over the target in a much shorter time, so as to be exposed to enemy fire for a brief period and, we hoped, before they could get the range. This involved flying with just 500-foot vertical and 500-foot horizontal separation and relying on everyone being where they were supposed to be at the right time. The navigator became the key man in that he had to place you at the IP at the absolutely correct time for the system to work. We used what we called a navigation fan system that would let you gain or lose five to 20 seconds, depending on which leg of the fan you flew. Of course, the fact that you could never see any of the other airplanes made it a lot simpler. I am sure if we had seen those other B-29s so close, someone would have screwed up. This way, we would pull all of the planes over the target in a couple of minutes instead of 10 or 15 minutes. It worked and we never lost another airplane....

RELATED ARTICLE: KOREAN WAR CHRONOLOGY, MAY 1953

13 May

Raid on Toksan Dam. Dramatic strike by 58th Fighter-Bomber Wing F-84s destroys a major irrigation system. Five miles of valuable rice crops are scoured and miles of highways and railroad tracks are destroyed. Further attacks on irrigation dams follow over the next two weeks. Clark authorized to mobilize four more South Korean divisions.

20 May

National Security Council decides that if "conditions arise," air and ground operations will be extended to China and ground operations in Korea will be intensified.

28 May

U.S./U.N. negotiating team presents its final terms and threatens to break off talks if these are rejected. Chinese, in regimental strength, attack five outposts of U.S. 25th Division.

29 May

Chinese occupy three outposts.

Sources: Home page, 50th Anniversary of the Korean War Committee http://korea50.army.mil/; The Korean War by Matthew B. Ridgway; and The Korean War by Max Hastings.

REUNION DMZ--2003

Korean War veterans from every nation involved in the fighting from 27 June 1950 to 27 July 1953 are invited to participate in Reunion DMZ-2003. Coordinator for the organization is Chaplain (COL) Ralph L Smith, USA (Ret.) in Irving, Texas. E-mail is penwest200l@yahoo.com.

This is an effort to organize and plan a gathering of veterans who desire to return to battle sites in and near the DMZ between North Korea and South Korea. The time frame to do this will be August 2003.

COPYRIGHT 2003 Reserve Officers Association of the United States
COPYRIGHT 2004 Gale Group