Jackie had just finished a cigarette, an American brand. His supply of Woodbines had long since finished. Now he was trying to get used to the Yankees ‘Lucky Strike’ brand. Ah well, he thought, beggars can’t be choosers.
He stubbed out the butt-end and flicked it out of the trench that he had dug with three other soldiers, privates Henderson and Butler and Corporal Lim, alongside the Bren gun trench that Kelly and Dolan had set up.
This trench was built for four inhabitants. (Normally the slit trenches were for two soldiers, but Lim was not present at this time.) There had been more prisoners captured and Lim was at battalion headquarters assisting with interpreting during the interrogation.
Jackie’s feeling was that this was the night, and had told Lim to take Mina, which normally would not happen. Lim looked Jackie in the eye and nodded knowingly.
“I will get back as soon as I can, Jackie,” Lim said.
“Take your time, my friend,” Jackie replied, as he turned to take his position in the trench.
The new Bren gun team seemed to be getting on very well. The outgoing, talkative Kelly had brought Dolan around, it seemed. Laughter could now be heard from the Bren gun trench.
Kelly was cleaning the Bren, for the twentieth time that day. He was fully aware that it was prone to jam if the mechanism was dirty and so he kept it spotlessly clean.
“Keep it down, you two!” Taffy Howells’ Welsh twang was heard through the darkness.
The mood was tense; word was that a Chinese offensive could be expected at any time.
Henderson and Butler were asleep, but Jackie was restless; he had tried to close his eyes and sleep, but sleep would not come. He was about to light up another cigarette with the new Zippo lighter he’d ‘acquired’ from an American tank commander when, to the left of his position, the sky was lit up by a para-illuminating round from a mortar fired close to the banks of the Imjin River, which shimmered in the moonlight as it flowed before them on its way to the Yellow Sea.
Jackie leant forward in the trench; he could see, far below him to his left, many Chinese soldiers crossing the river at what was now known as ‘The Gloster Crossing’, a ford in the river around one hundred and fifty yards across at this point.
Immediately, there was a response with rifle fire and the unmistakable sound of two Bren guns as they were brought into action from a position on the riverbank.
As the flare died, the firing stopped, but within seconds a second flare lit up the night sky and firing resumed. It was then that a machine gun opened up on the opposite bank, positioned to cover the Chinese advance.
As the second flare died, Jackie could see the remnants of the Chinese platoon returning to the far bank. Henderson and Butler, woken from their sleep by the action below them, had now joined him. Then everything was quiet for several minutes.
At the same time Jackie could see that, to his right, a hill on the northern side of the river occupied by a Belgian Division was coming under attack. The red tracers from the Belgians could be seen and the green tracers from the Chinese were clearly visible.
“They are in a difficult position, Sarg,” Jackie said. “They could easily be cut off, there.”
“Aye, you’re dead right, Jackie. I’m glad I’m not out there with them,” Taffy Howells replied.
After what seemed like an age another flare exploded in the air before them and an even larger throng of Chinese could be seen wading across the river. The firing recommenced, but this time it was joined by the howl of heavy artillery and the twenty-five-pound shells could be heard as they roared over the heads of the on-looking B Company.
What Jackie and his compatriots were witnessing was a patrol by C Company, of the Glosters, led by the popular Second Lieutenant, Guy Temple. Temple’s brief was to capture an enemy soldier from the opposite side of the river and bring him back for interrogation.
The astute Temple believed that he would not encounter a small number of the enemy, but many.
Temple was right. He had issued his patrol extra ammunition, dug his patrol in on the southern bank of the river and then ambushed the advancing Chinese as they tried to ford the river at Gloster Crossing.
The shells were firing too long, striking the far banks. There was a pause as the artillery adjusted their range; this time the range was good with the shells landing in the middle of the river, with devastating effect.
Again, there was a pause of several minutes before another flare was fired. This time the river was crammed with Chinese.
“Jesus!” Henderson whispered.
Temple then called for the full force of the artillery: twenty-four guns, firing twenty-five-pound shells simultaneously, repeated ten times; Jackie knew because he was counting them as they flew over his head.
But still, the Chinese came. The firing had stopped to the left. Temple and his men had run out of ammunition and were retreating, but more firing had started, immediately in front of them and to the right as the Chinese forded the river right across the front that the twenty-eighth brigade protected.
“Looks like we are going to have a long night, gentlemen!” said Sergeant Taffy Howells, who was lying prone alongside the slit trench occupied by Gee, Henderson, and Butler.
“You can say that again, Sergeant Howells.” This was from Lieutenant Hall, who had appeared out of nowhere and was crouched behind Jackie’s trench. “Get ready, men! I estimate within thirty minutes they’ll be on us,” as he stood and went over to Kelly and Dolan’s trench to offer the Bren gunners encouragement.
It was going to be a long night; Lieutenant Hall was right. Within thirty minutes, the sound of the advancing Chinese could be heard.
The Chinese were excellent at camouflage. They could conceal themselves remarkably well: they carried with them a white sheet, which they would lie under and completely blend in when the snow covered the ground. They also carried small trees or bushes, which they used to merge in with the mountainous terrain. They were, however, not well-disciplined when it came to chatter. Many times they would give their position away by talking to each other when they had gone totally unobserved by the UN forces.
The Chinese officers controlled the movement of their men by using whistles and bugles. Jackie could not see the Chinese, below them on the hill, but he could hear them: the bugle call, sounded by a Chinese officer, would haunt Jackie for the rest of his life.
Then somebody fired a flare and Jackie could see the hillside crawling with Chinese. Immediately, Kelly’s Bren gun could be heard as it spat five hundred rounds a minute at the advancing Chinese and Henderson, Butler and Jackie began firing with their Lee Enfield’s, but not before Jackie had told his two colleagues to fix bayonets. “I think we might be needing these,” he said as he secured his bayonet to his rifle barrel.
The trip wires that the company had set were working, the advancing Chinese setting off the grenades as they inadvertently pulled the pins from the concealed grenades. Many explosions from the grenades could be heard and seen across the hill as the Chinese moved up the hill.
The initial wave was seen off without any casualties that Jackie was aware of; then the second wave hit them and this time the Chinese managed to advance as far as Jackie’s slit trench. A Chinese grenade landed in the trench and young Butler screamed, but Jackie lobbed it back from where it had come before it exploded. The scream from the Chinese who had perished from this grenade was sickening.
This second wave was also repelled, followed by a lull as the Chinese regrouped. The platoon now restocked with ammunition, and the injured and the dead were taken off the hill. Fortunately, casualties were few.
They were close – very close! Again, though, the Chinese gave away their position by talking. A flare lit up the night sky and, once again, the hillside was crawling with Chinese, certainly more than the previous waves; Jackie thought the whole Chinese army were climbing the hill. He kept firing, picking off the Chinese almost at will. There were so many of them. His rifle was getting very hot, though he barely noticed. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a movement to his left. An enemy soldier had managed to get to the summit and was running towards him.
Jackie stood and turned and fired at the soldier, hitting him full in the chest, but still, the soldier rushed at Jackie. This was probably only his momentum, as the .303 round from Jackie’s Lee Enfield had blown a hole in the Chinese soldier’s chest, with an exit hole through his back as big as a fist.
As the enemy soldier fell upon him, he thrust his bayonet into the gut and twisted it, as he had practised so many times during his training, only this time it was on a human being and not a straw dummy. The trench to his left had been overrun, there seemed to be Chinese everywhere.
“With me, private Gee!” Lieutenant Hall had appeared again and was walking towards the trench where the breach had been made and the Chinese had broken through. Jackie was impressed by the composure of his commanding officer, whose voice was calm yet exerting authority.
The Lieutenant was firing his Webley handgun and when the chambers were empty, he stopped and reloaded, as calm as you like. The Webley revolver required the firer to manually load each cartridge into the revolving chamber. Jackie instinctively moved to cover the Lieutenant as he reloaded his weapon. He fired repeatedly, using his bayonet also, as the summit became overrun by the Chinese; Lieutenant Hall was, by now, aware that the summit was lost as the enemy continued to pour through the Glosters’ defence.
“Retreat,” Lieutenant Hall shouted, the first time he had raised his voice. “The hill is compromised,” he added.
It was then that a Chinese soldier rushed at the Lieutenant with his bayonet. The Lieutenant moved to his left to avoid the thrust and shot the man in the head, spraying blood and gore on the young officer’s tunic.
Kelly’s Bren gun was still firing and then suddenly went silent. Jackie looked across at the Bren gun trench.
Had it jammed? he thought, but he saw Kelly slumped over the Bren.
“Get out you two!” he shouted to Henderson and Butler, who were still firing from their trench. “It’s time to leave.”
The two immediately left the trench and backed off towards the rear still firing their rifles. These two young soldiers impressed him. They had stood up well.
Jackie’s rifle then stopped firing. “Damn, out of ammo.” He threw down his rifle and ran to the trench were Kelly and Dolan, and the Bren gun were.
He pulled Kelly off the Bren, who then moaned. “Kelly! You okay?” he shouted. There was a large gash in the side of Kelly’s head where a bullet had creased the scalp, but he was alive.
It was then that he noticed Dolan in the corner of the slit trench, cowering with fright.
“Dolan!” Jackie grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and slapped him across the face. “Get Kelly off this fucking hill, or I’ll kill you myself, you hear me!” he screamed.
The young soldier nodded and began dragging the dazed Kelly away.
Jackie reloaded the Bren gun just in time as three Chinese appeared at the slit trench. Jackie opened fire with the Bren. The Chinese crumpled to the floor. He continued firing as more Chinese appeared.
As Jackie was leaving the split trench, a mortar exploded to his left, throwing him to the ground. For a moment, Jackie was dazed and his ears rang. He shook his head and looked down at his body. Was he hurt? It appeared he was not, though as he moved his hand over his face and brought it down, there was blood on it.
“Come on Private Gee. This is no time to take a nap!” urged Lieutenant Hall. Jackie was immediately on his feet and grabbed the Bren gun, which was miraculously still intact.
As he was backing towards the rear, giving covering fire to Dolan and Kelly, he noticed Taffy Howells lying face down, firing with a handgun at the advancing Chinese. He had been hit in the leg but was still able to fire his handgun. Jackie sprayed an arc of fire at the Chinese and rushed across to help his platoon sergeant. After another burst of fire from the Bren, he bent down to help the sergeant to his feet. “Butler!” he shouted. “Butler!” he yelled again.
Henderson appeared at his side. “Where’s Butler?” he asked Henderson.
“Dead, Jackie. Butler’s dead!” There was a look of abject fear in the young soldier’s eyes.
“Okay, Billy. Get the sergeant off the hill,” Jackie said calmly.
Lieutenant Hall was to Jackie’s right, still firing his Webley, but Jackie noticed he was holding his right side with his left hand. The bayonet thrust he had tried to avoid had found its target, it appeared.
“You okay, Lieutenant Hall?” Jackie asked.
“Yes, Private Gee. Just a scratch, I’m sure,” he replied.
Jackie could see the right side of officer’s tunic was covered in blood. It was somewhat more than a scratch, he thought.
Another wave of Chinese soldiers appeared. Jackie sprayed them with a burst from the Bren, and then the Bren was empty. Grenades! Jackie remembered his grenades. He took a grenade from his tunic, pulled the pin and lobbed one to his right at the advancing men, then another to his left, but still, they kept coming. He noticed a fallen colleague on the floor to his left. It looked like Thomas, but he couldn’t be sure; half of his face was missing. He reached down and took the two grenades from his webbing and promptly lobbed them into the advancing enemy. He also picked up the rifle that was lying alongside the body.
“I guess you won’t be needing this anymore, Thomas!” he said.
As Taffy Howells was being dragged away, Jackie heard him say, “I’m definitely signing that private Gee for my village cricket team when we get out of this place!”
Even in the heat of battle, Jackie managed a smile and glanced back at his sergeant, who was also smiling but had a faraway look in his eyes.
Jackie and Lieutenant Hall continued to give covering fire, the Lieutenant with his Webley and Jackie with the Lee Enfield, as what was left of his platoon made their way down the rear of the hill. Together they stumbled backwards down the steep hillside, still firing at the Chinese as they appeared on the brim of the hill’s summit.
They were around halfway down the hill and the Chinese had stopped their pursuit of the Glosters when Lieutenant Hall collapsed. Jackie ran to the stricken officer.
“We’re nearly there, Sir,” Jackie said, as he threw the officer’s left arm over his shoulder and helped him down off the hill. He carried the injured officer the rest of the way down the hill and placed him in an area where the rest of the injured were being attended.
A medic immediately rushed over when he realised it was Lieutenant Hall. He called to two Korean stretcher-bearers, who quickly carried the officer away to a tracked vehicle that was waiting to take the injured away from the battlefront to a MASH unit.
“Bayonet wound to the right side,” he told the medic, “and he’s lost a lot of blood.”
He noticed Taffy Howells smoking a cigarette but smiling as a medic was dressing a bullet wound to his leg, and another medic stitching the gash to the side of Kelly’s head.
“How is it, Kelly?” Jackie asked.
“I’ve got a splitting headache, Jackie!” Kelly answered.
“Another inch to the right and you wouldn’t have had to worry about another headache, Kelly,” Jackie replied.
“Aye, you’re right there, Jackie!” Kelly said.
Jackie sat down, took a cigarette from his pack and took a long draw on the American blend. Would he ever get used to them? he wondered.
As the sun began to rise in the west, he looked around at the injured colleagues around him and thought how well the young soldiers had done that night, attempting to subdue a Chinese army that massively outnumbered them, as they fought to hold hill 375, on the Imjin River.
He looked across at Dolan. He had tears in his eyes and a bemused look; his whole body shook suddenly at the sound of a nearby explosion. Dolan was obviously not cut out for this and, as Jackie looked at the terrified boy, an officer came and led the young soldier away; that was the last time he saw him. But Dolan was not the only one to suffer from ‘battle shock’. Jackie was later to learn that several others from the company suffered this syndrome. In fact, Dolan was to suffer the effects of ‘battle shock’, or, Post-concussion Syndrome, as it became known, for the rest of his life, as would many others.
The soldiers had performed admirably, he thought. He looked around at the remnants of his company.
“Let me look at that, Jackie.” Jackie’s thoughts had been interrupted by a medic. Harry Peters stood before him.
“What’s that, Harry?” Jackie asked.
“Your arm, Jackie!” Harry replied, pointing at Jackie’s left arm.
Jackie then realised that he had received a bayonet wound on his upper arm, though when it had happened he had no idea.
“It’s nothing, Harry,” Jackie said, “look after the others.”
Jackie was then aware of the blood running down his arm and dripping from his fingers.
“Let me check it out, Jackie.” The medic had taken a pair of scissors from his pack and was cutting the sleeve of Jackie’s tunic to reveal a jagged cut on Jackie’s bicep.
“I’ll put a field dressing on it for now to stop the bleeding, Jackie, but it will need stitches when you get back to headquarters,” Harry said.
“Yeah okay, Harry. Thanks,” Jackie replied.
The medic finished applying the dressing to the wound and started to walk towards another soldier who was being dragged towards the group. This soldier’s left lower leg was missing and he was screaming in pain.
“Make sure you get it stitched, Jackie. Otherwise it will get infected,” the medic said as he took a syringe of morphine from his pack and injected it into the screaming soldier.
“Right, Harry. Will do,” Jackie answered.
Jackie didn’t know it at the time but more than half of his company had been either killed or wounded and deemed out of action and there would be no stitches at headquarters for his lacerated arm.
The Glosters also lost many of their officers during that first massive offensive by the Chinese.
Jackie also didn’t know it then, but when Lieutenant Hall had recovered and made his report, Jackie Gee was mentioned in despatches and awarded the Military Medal for his heroics on that day at the Imjin River. He was also promoted to Corporal.
As hill 375 was lost, Jackie’s company, or what was left of it, were instructed to withdraw to a second line of defence on the lower ground.
The Glosters D Company, who were defending the ridge to the right of hill 375, had only to defend a probe, rather than a full attack that Jackie’s company had to withstand, and had held with only light casualties and no fatalities.
Jackie was now joined by Lim, who had been released from his interpreting at Headquarters; together, they began digging in again in their new position. After making an acceptable defensive position, the exhausted Glosters tried to get some sleep before nightfall when they expected another Chinese offensive.
What they didn’t know was that the Chinese had broken through behind them – The Glosters were completely cut off.
During that day, the Belgian Division, which was still isolated on their hill, which they had miraculously held, on the north side of the river, were to be extracted.
Jackie and Lim watched as American helicopters flew to the Belgian’s hill to remove the injured; then again as a platoon of what looked like Americans advanced on an adjacent hill to draw fire from the Chinese, who were on the hill close to where the Belgians were. With covering fire from a tank division, the Americans allowed the Belgians to retreat.
The Belgian vehicles were driven over the pontoon bridge, which, unbelievably, was still intact, and the soldiers that were able to walk forded the river at what was now known as ‘The Ulster Crossing’ and the surviving Belgians all made it across without any further loses.
The now abandoned positions that the Belgians had vacated, Jackie could see were now being occupied by the Chinese, but these positions soon came under fire from the Americans and within minutes of the Belgians reaching the beach and the American transport vehicles, the sound of US jets could be heard as they released canisters of Napalm. Jackie could see the burning bodies and heard the screams as the napalm hit their targets.
The Belgian’s remarkable achievement in holding hill 175, on the night of April 22nd, would be duly recognised and earned them the US Presidential Citation.