Recollections of Samuel “Shorty” Payne, Jr.
A Few Anecdotes
So many things come to mind. Do you remember Escalera sleeping under that tank and we could not revive him right away? Do you also remember when we had moved into the school yard position and he dug a slit trench instead of a foxhole? Then we started receiving artillery and small arms fire and he had no place to go but in a hole with one of the other guys, and the old man chewed his ass out!
The Buffalo Rangers, 2d Ranger Company (Airborne),
Prior to the Jump: March 22, 1951
We were interviewed by Stars and Stripes at the airfield before the first Ranger parachute jump in history. They took pictures of some of the guys in the company. Also, one of Posey and me I call “the tall and short of it.” I tried to get a copy of the picture; they said copies were sent to the home states.
My platoon was Jump-47, because most of our company jumped from C-47s or C-46s. We assembled and moved right into the attack. A Medic got hit just as we landed; he died from shock.
A whistle was used to assemble the men.
We got some small arms fire from the hill, but a lot of the sons-of-bitches were running. We caught them by surprise. We were moving pretty fast and had orders not to take any prisoners because we did not have time to stop.
Like I have told many guys, they were looking at history. I was there and I participated in it, and I am very proud to have been a member of the first black Airborne Ranger company, not only as a Ranger, but as a black one. I am so sorry that we did not have the public relations that the Marines or the 187th had. But we shall survive and live on. To all of the original members of the 2d Company, we know we were the best. And we proved it from day one when we got to Korea.
I will never forget the night patrol with the heavy tank battalion. We were the spearhead company that was sent out to make contact with elements of 15th Regiment, 3d Division. The first thing we ran into was an element of the tank battalion. We linked up and continued off onto the attack. Went on a tank patrol, a bunch were heading down the draw to the valley.
We were moving so fast that we passed over the top of some well-kept camouflaged holes that the gooks had dug and were hiding in. So the old man sent for some stick charges and started blowing them out. We started digging in. While doing this we began to get intermittent artillery fire from across the river. The gooks had a forward observer calling in artillery. Then we started getting support artillery from 8th Army Field or Corp Heavy gun.
Yes, we were to patrol one mile in front of our position, keeping a eye on the house, which we learned was a Forward Observer post that we helped destroy. I am glad I was a part of the history-making jump.
Hill-581: May 20, 1951
We had been taking on small arms fire and had just moved into the position. Corporal Sutton was hit by fire while sitting on the side of the hill. We were digging in our position pending an attack that we were expecting. We had seen the enemy moving rank and file down the draw. We called in artillery fire off and on. Also supply brought up to the position crates of hand grenades, ammunition, and flares. We were stockpiling. They did not attack us until early in the morning. They had been sending out patrols, testing and feeling out our position. I was a BAR man protecting the machine gun position. We could hear and smell the sons-of-bitches right below our position. They probed the position all night. We threw hand grenades every so often.
When the Chinese overran the 3d platoon position, our machine gunner beat off the gooks, killing many. He deserved a lot bigger award than he got. I believe he received a Bronze Star; should have been a Silver Star or better. I cannot think of his name. He was from New York. My memory of names is bad; faces yes, but names I stink as far as memory is concerned. We had an assortment of all types of individuals: top of the shelf, so to speak. A very proud bunch of men that really was obedient to the 2d Ranger Company and to the job at hand.
We ran daily patrols, both contact and combat. We would patrol at night about two hundred yards in front of our position. We set up ambushes a couple of times out and would come back about daylight.
June 11, 1951
Our platoon had been given the job of knocking out a machine gun on the knoll overlooking a man-made path. Earlier we had been pushed off this same hill; I think more out of anger and frustration, we started back up the hill. Peteress was the BAR man. For some unknown reason he started up that path; the gook had it zeroed in before we were halfway up the knoll. We were caught in a crossfire from the front and right flank. Peteress still pushed ahead. Then the gooks opened up, cutting him half way up the chest and the left side of his face. After he fell, Lieutenant Freeman gave the order to push the position straight ahead. We killed two of the enemy who were left to protect the machine gunner: they were chained to the machine gun and gave up smiling, but were shot dead.
We dug in for a hole-type thing. We also were on red alert through the night. We could not take Peteress down. So he was moved and covered with a poncho right above our hole. Then it began to rain. The Chinese were spotted with a probing patrol. Captain Allen started calling in artillery within about fifty yards from our position, walking it up to about twenty-five yards from our position. I don’t believe any of the men worried about it. Someone else got wounded in the foot on that same hill, can’t remember the name.
As far as I can remember we rested, cleaned weapons, drank booze, and wrote letters. At night some of us got together and did a little harmonizing.
I recall one time the general went past the lines we had been fighting on and got trapped up there. They sent 3d platoon and the rest of 2d up to rescue him. He had to slide into the safety hatch under the tank so that he could get out of the gook-infested area.
At the end, we had to ride over in the Japanese or Korean ferryboat, which was packed to the hilt. I was really upset about the deactivation, thinking that all we did would have gone down the drain—and it almost did, if it wasn’t for guys like Weathersbee, Queen, and many others who kept the fire lit.
Camp and in Pusan
When we got back from Korea lots of guys went on passes. Some of the guys bought these chrome-coated .45s or had some of them chromed up.
In joining the 187 RCT, I was a little apprehensive, because a lot of the 187th didn’t like the idea of us bringing in so much rank. I recall when Trapnell raised hell with members and officers of the 187th. When he found out that some of the men and/or officers were discriminating and saying racist words toward the men of 2d Ranger Company, he said if someone called you a name you had his order to kick his ass and report it to him, and he would do the same. We were assigned to different platoons and companies within RCT. We spent lots of time in the field.
We were given passes to go into the G.I. Station in Pusan. I had a run-in with one of the guys from the other Ranger Co. The city was under a curfew and we had to meet a truck at a certain time, I think 1200 hours, to report back to the compound. We had some confrontation.
Some of the other activity was constant weapons inspection. The old man used to be a son-of-a-bitch about this and some other thing. William Tucker used to be my foxhole buddy, then Posey when he was BAR man.
The most memorable action was the first jump at Munsan-ni Hill 581. Our four-man team was on a O.P. (Listening Post) when the gooks ran patrol about one hundred yards below our position. We had orders: if attacked, destroy the radio and make it out.
Many of the men in this company should have been given some awards. I always thought that the Old Man wasn’t too up on getting medals for his men. (Maybe only certain people.) I could name some of the men who should have been so honored.
After returning to the States I went to Fort Benning. Then I was sent to the 11th Abn 188 Regt. I was in this company under Sergeant Ames Anias, who was the 1st soldier of the company. Back at Bragg, Amos had been my platoon sergeant before I went to the Rangers.
I was not a career soldier. I had made sergeant and was going to Jumpmaster School. But because I had short time they did not want to give me another stripe unless I re-upped.
I have had no regrets at all about being a Ranger, a paratrooper, or being in the military. My only regret at not staying in is that I could see no farther than my nose.
This resumé is only a minute amount of information that I have to offer, of course there is much more.
I often thought about what would happen to us in a historical sense. If it was not for men like you (Weathersbee, Queen, Posey, Dias, and many others), we probably would go unnoticed or be forgotten. I recall at the 1987 Reunion when this white colonel told some of his men that there was no all-black Rangers company. A New York guy called him down, embarrassing him for making an idiotic statement like that.
I could not really say who was the ideal Ranger, but there were some who stood out just a notch above the other men. Sergeant Freeman, for example, who wouldn’t tell his men to do something he wouldn’t do. We had so many—I can’t name them because I would not be just in doing so.
There were times we went into the attack with the 17th Regiment and 7th Division, securing the position, then turning it over to the 31st or 32d. And they would lose it within a couple of weeks. The 2d Ranger Company was called on every time. We would go into a limited engagement (ten days, two weeks). One time I thought they were really trying to kill us off by sending us to each regiment that was going into the attack.
Recollections of David “Tank” Clarke, 1st Plt. BAR, 1st Squad,
Lt. Bernard Pryor, Plt. Leader, James Freeman, Plt. Sgt.,
and Herman Jackson, Squad Leader
We were still at Fort Benning, almost at the end of our Ranger training cycle, when the word was out that the North Koreans were whipped, they were on the run, and the action in Korea was just about over. All of the men would be home for Christmas. The UN army was at the Manchurian border, and it was just a matter of time before the police action was over.
Many of us were disappointed that we wouldn’t get a chance to get into the action. After all, we had just ended a rather rigorous training period. We really wanted a chance to get into the fight. Then it happened: the Chinese entered the war and the UN army was in full retreat.
The word was out that we had a chance to get into action. On the train to the west coast we read about all of the mess that was going on, through Time magazine and Newsweek. I can remember seeing a cover story in Newsweek of an infantry column moving out in a blinding snow, heading south. At the time we didn’t realize the extent of the chaos that must have existed at the front lines in North Korea with the retreating UN army.
After almost two weeks at sea the small troop carrier USS Retreating came into harbor in Japan, late December 1950. We were billeted in a small camp named Zama, where we were re-equipped for our assignment into action, winter equipment, etc.
I was rather curious as to what we were getting into. At the time I know that the men of 2d Ranger Company had no idea what we were getting into. Most of us were rather carefree and happy as we looked for women and drink. After all, we had just gotten off the boat after nearly two weeks on the water. We made the best of almost three whole days of liberty and a rather carefree existence. For some of the men it would be the last days of fun they would ever have.
For a couple of days we zeroed in our weapons and made sure everything was in order. Then we got the word that we were on our way to Korea. On December 29, in the evening, we went to an airfield for the flight to Korea, with full combat gear. I remember we were given “Mae West” flotation gear and parachutes for any emergency exit in case of aircraft failure. The chutes were manually operated with a ripcord, which none of us was really even familiar with. Even though we had made many parachute jumps, all of them were by static line.
It was dark when we took off in what I believe were 119s or C-47s. We arrived at an airstrip in Taegu. Early morning we were picked up by truck convoy and moved north to join the 7th Infantry Division on the central front.
Most of us still didn’t know what the hell was going on. We pitched our newly-issued squad tents and were introduced to the 7th ID as the 2d Ranger Company Airborne. Here we were, an all-black company of paratroopers going into a combat situation with an all-white infantry division.
I can recall that one day we got a few cans of beer. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was reminded that it was New Year’s Eve. “Big deal,” I responded. Then we got the word that we were going north to meet the enemy. Then the fun began.
The one thing that most of the men will remember is the convoy going north and all of the refugee columns moving south crowding the road, getting in our way so that our vehicles could hardly move.
I was a BAR man assigned to ride in the C.O.’s jeep with Lieutenant Allen, along with Lt. Pryor, my Platoon Leader. Later in the day we passed a burned-out tank, our first taste of battle casualties. Then we arrived at a small village where the 32d Regiment had set up an aid station. It was our job to protect the aid station from Communist guerilla activity. We took advantage of the mud and straw huts in a small village for protection from the bitter cold, especially at night.
During the day we would go out to patrol; nights were spent on outpost and roadblocks, fighting the weather as well as the enemy. There was always constant activity, as the North Koreans watched us by day as we dug in for the night, or were put on outpost. When the sun went down they would come in and harass us.
This went on for a few days. Then we got the word that we were going into an attack situation. We were finally going after the enemy. We didn’t know it at the time but 2d Ranger was going into a slaughterhouse. Our company was about to be cut almost in half in the next two days of fighting. We were about to get a taste of real combat.
On a cold January morning we loaded up for battle, almost double load; it was difficult to re-supply in the mountainous terrain. I had my BAR and helped carry ammo for the 60mm mortar.
We walked for a few miles on a railroad track that made it difficult to walk, then made our way into the hills for the night, no fires at night. We ate cold C-rations, then bedded down in the snow. We were cold and too tired to try to chop through the frozen ground. The next day we woke, freezing cold, and headed out to meet the enemy.
As we moved down into a valley, slipping and sliding all the way, we approached a small hamlet past dead cattle and a few dead civilians. Apparently, they just got in the way of the conflict. As we made our way up a ravine or valley we came upon some young civilian males. We didn’t know if they were guerillas or whose side they were on. The word was out that if they were not in the army or in uniform they must be either guerillas or deserters. One of the officers from Baker (or “B”) Company ordered them shot as guerillas. They were lined up against a stone wall and gunned down. We later regretted doing this. We didn’t know it at the time, but the enemy was watching this execution.
When we continued up the valley, small arms fire broke out. We immediately took cover wherever we could find it. In my case it was behind a rather large boulder with some men from my squad. I still couldn’t see the enemy, but I could sure hear the gunfire. Along with about six other men in my group, we began returning fire.
Sergeant Freeman, First Platoon Sergeant, began yelling at us to “put some fire on the hills.” I was blazing away with the BAR. Then we got the mortar set up as best we could without the base plate and dumped all of the rounds we had on the surrounding hills toward the enemy. It was then that Lawrence “Poochie” Williams was hit in the head, killing him instantly. He almost dropped on top of me. I heard squad leader Herman Jackson yell, “Sergeant Freeman, Poochie got hit in the head!” but there was nothing we could do for him. I can remember how he hated to wear the steel helmet, and I often wonder if it might have saved his life.
Then another man near me, St. Thomas, was hit in the foot. His feet were frozen, and he was not really convinced he had been hit by a bullet. He removed his shoe-pac and asked me if it was really a bullet hole. I told him it was indeed. That was the last time I saw him alive. I was sure he got out safely, but he was killed a short time later. St. Thomas was one of my good stateside buddies. I found out later through Sergeant Herman Jackson that he had volunteered to go on this operation. He could have stayed behind because he was, after all, a cook, and not an assigned rifleman. That was when he got it.
We began to disperse or spread out. It was getting a bit hot behind that boulder. I had rather wisely removed the bi-pod from my weapon during this firefight. I knew how the enemy would always go after the automatic weapon, and this made me a somewhat less conspicuous target.
After I had used up most of my magazines in the return fire, I thought I had better save one for myself. I had used up all except one magazine, and I had lost contact with my assistant ammo bearers. One of them was Isaiah Woodard. Men were still being hit all around me. Then some guys from “B” Company came down the valley yelling “everybody out!” and the retreat was on. We still couldn’t figure what was going on, so we began to withdraw.
On the way out I passed J. T. Holley. He had been hit in the back and said he couldn’t move and asked me to help him to cover. That is when Boatwright was wounded; he had been hit twice. He came along and we helped him [Holley] to a shelter beneath a ledge. If we had known what the situation was I know that we could have dragged him out. This still haunts me. I thought we were going to regroup and maybe counterattack, but I was wrong and we lost a few men that I knew were only wounded. The North Koreans moved in and executed them the same way we had shot their men down. After all, this was war.
I can also recall on the way out “Dude” Walker was giving us covering fire, saying, “Come on out, I got you covered.” He was firing away with an M-1 rifle.
Up the ridge as we attempted to regroup and gather some of our walking wounded, Lieutenant Pryor staggered up. He had been hit in the head and blood was streaming down his face. We tried to get him on a litter but he refused. After a few moments he finally collapsed and some South Koreans carried him off to the aid station. In a couple of weeks he was back, only to be injured again. The next time I saw him we were back in Taegu, March 1951.
After we broke contact with the enemy we began to dig in for defense, as we knew that they would counterattack. I still didn’t have any ammo for my BAR, so I began to empty M-1 clips to fill my magazines. We dug in for the night. The fighting went on into the night as the enemy counterattacked, but B Company held them off with machine gun fire and small arms.
The next day we moved up past a lot of dead Communists and a few dead from B Company; they had lost a lot of people. We dug in on a ridge to form a perimeter and set up for the night. As dusk began to settle elements of the 187 ABN RCT came up to relieve us. They wondered what all of the commotion was about, and I remarked, “You should have been here yesterday.”
Lieutenant Allen gathered what was left of his company and we set off down the mountain in pitch black darkness to the village and aid station a few miles away. I still wonder why we couldn’t have waited until dawn to make this move.
The next day we headed north again to a town called Tanyang. We spent days going on patrol and nights on defense perimeter in the hills. The cold was still unforgiving, so we took on more casualties from frozen or frostbitten limbs. It was a toss-up—frostbite or bullets.
Soon we were on the move again to Chechon. More defense, more patrols, attack and withdraw. We still didn’t have our own mess hall. Always hungry, always cold, we were a rather sorry lot at times, but somehow we survived.
Then we got the word that we were on the move again. I didn’t know it at the time but we were headed south to join up with the 187th RCT to make preparations for an airborne assault sometime soon called “Operation Tomahawk.” Our first and only combat jump.
This was sort of a blessing in disguise, as it gave us a break from front-line duty and a chance to get out of the elements. We had served almost two solid months of front-line duty, and we needed a rest. We also got much-needed replacements.
P.S. “Big Jim”—This is really all I have on the situation at “Majori-ri.” I know that a lot of men have different versions of their personal experience as to what really happened in this firefight—our first taste of real battle. Some of this material I have shared with Herman Jackson, and together we brought some of the details into perspective, and we agree on all of the things that I put into this writing. He (Jackson) remembers more about Glover than I can recall. Even though he was in the squad, I lost track of him in the din of battle.
Recollections of Herman Jackson, 2d Ranger Company (Airborne), transcribed by William Weathersbee, April 17, 1997
Hello, Weathersbee, this is Jack, in sunny California. I will try to get these tapes off today. I made a couple I wasn’t satisfied with. I had started from the beginning when we were in the Tanyang Pass. I wasn’t satisfied with them; anyway, I will get them off to you as soon as I can.
First, I want to give you some information on my background with mortars. In 1942, the last part of ’42, I was assigned to Company E, 369th Infantry Division. I was in the weapons platoon. In the weapons platoon, we had a section of light machine guns and a section of three (3) 60mm mortars. I was assigned to the mortars. So I had been working on 60mm mortars all that time, from 1942 up until I went to Ranger School. In the military, I was in the 81mm mortar platoon in the 555th Parachute Infantry Battalion. We had six 81mm mortars in a separate platoon. So you can see, I had much experience with 60s and 81mm mortars.
So, what I will talk about, I will give you information on what happened while fighting in Korea.
Years later, I was assigned to the 187th Airborne Regimental Combat Team, in Japan. Later we gyro-scoped with the 508th Airborne Regimental Combat Team, back to Fort Bragg, North Carolina. That same year, we transferred to Fort Campbell, Kentucky, to form the 101st Airborne Division. While at Fort Campbell, Kentucky, I was working as an instructor at the Division jump school and received orders for Korea, to be assigned to the 24th Infantry Division, 34th Infantry Regiment. This was in 1956. I was a platoon sergeant in company M, 34th Infantry Regiment.
More about my experience with mortars. I won every award that could be won in the 24th Infantry Division. I even beat out the reconnaissance company. They are always pretty good. I beat every other unit in the 24th Infantry Division that had mortars. I topped them all. I was put in for the I.D. White Leadership Award. You had to go to Japan to receive this award. They had a parade for me. After the parade, I was invited to the NCO Club for a party, and we had a swell time. I decided to go to the village, but the village was off limits, we were caught and I didn’t get the I.D. White Award for outstanding leadership.
In Korea I was assigned to Camp Casey. The Third Battalion was in a small camp. Casey was no more than five miles from where we parachuted into Munsan-ni. You can imagine, I had plenty of time to go to the drop zone area. The DZ was in our defensive position for the 34th Regiment. Hill 151 was the main objective for the 2d Ranger Company during Operation Tomahawk. I could drive from my camp to the old DZ in ten to fifteen minutes. Being familiar with that area, I had an opportunity to go there several times to visit the area.
Upon my return to the area, word got around there was a sergeant in the Mortar Platoon of the 34th Regiment who had parachuted in there during the war. A couple of reporters came in to see me, seeking information about the drop. We went to the DZ, I pointed out to them where we dropped, where we assembled, and where we began our attack on Hill 151. Before we got to Hill 151, I took them to an area—this was the first time I had been there since the drop—where we mounted our 60mm mortars, after we assembled, and supported one of our platoons in the attack.
If you look north from Hill 151, the portion of the hill we took would be near the rear of Hill 151. In other words, the 1st and 2d platoons of 2d Ranger Company took the top of Hill 151, the hill leading to Hill 151, we were fighting up there. We were actually attacking the rear of Hill 151 at the same time.
I took those reporters up there, telling the story about our jump, our attack, and taking that hill, etc. I stopped in the same area where we placed our mortars and fired them. As you know, on a 60mm mortar round, the case they come in has a metal top and bottom. The rest of the case is fabric. Anyway, we stopped where we originally fired our 60’s. The tops and bottoms of these containers were metal; amazingly, they were still there in our original position. I picked up a few of those metal tops and stuck them in my pocket. I am letting you know that I went back to Korea in 1956, visited the Drop Zone, and was standing in the position where we fired our mortars.
Tanyang Pass
I want to talk about what we were really doing down in the Tanyang Pass. I cannot remember the exact date, but I believe it was the Division evacuation. It was the last evacuation in that chain, it was the last position going south. Anyway, when we first arrived there, we immediately sent out patrols. We started patrolling that area, the mountains around that area. I remember going out one day when we returned from off those mountains. I was assigned a position with half of my squad. I was a squad leader in the 1st platoon, the 3d squad, 2d Ranger Company (Airborne).
SFC Freeman was our platoon sergeant. Lieutenant Pryor was the platoon leader. I remember coming in, tired, from climbing those mountains. The 2d Ranger Company always made a point, if humanly possible, of working our way to the top to do our patrolling. If we were attacked, we would always be on the high ground. That was the motto in our company.
On this particular day we came in in the evening, the sun was going down, and my squad was given the mission to defend the railroad tunnel. The tunnel was directly above the 7th Division Medical Evacuation heading north to the town of Tanyang. The mission for my squad was to protect that area that night. With me was Carrell, my asst. squad leader; David “Tank” Clarke, my BAR man; Curtis Courts, radio telephone operator; and Richard Glover, a rifleman in the squad. This is what happened that night. We moved into position and remained until around nine o’clock. Quietly, we moved back and joined the other half of the squad. We still had the tunnel in sight. You could see through the tunnel from our position. It was like a big tube.
Our reason for moving, we knew the enemy had pinpointed our position and knew our exact location. And they did. This is what happened: I sat at the head of my squad with my legs crossed and my rifle in my lap for at least three hours. What we didn’t know was that during this time the enemy was closing in on us. My reason for saying that: Glover shot one just a few feet from me, where we were located. What gave this enemy soldier, this guerrilla, the protection for him to crawl beside me was this bank, a ditch. I was at the head of the squad, just sitting there looking directly into the tunnel. Suddenly, one shot was fired, then another one. When that happened, Glover was in position where he could see this guerrilla. When he saw him, he shot him. What happened after that, Tank Clarke threw a white phosphorous grenade. Now, we were just a few feet from where the huts started in this village and that white phosphorous got into the top of those shacks. When that happened, everything started burning. He probably threw a WP grenade because if he had thrown a fragmentation grenade, it would have hit some of us in the ditch. When this happened, Glover and Courts leaped over the bank and joined the rest of the squad. Now we had four men on the other side of the bank, but I was still in the ditch. I leaped over the bank and joined my squad. On the other side of the bank, I counted my men: everyone was present. The noise we were hearing wasn’t 2d Ranger Company. Ice was cracking, people running; as you know, snow was everywhere, it was very cold, I thought it was below zero.
Spreading my squad out about five to ten yards, we formed a line. When they were in the proper position, we heard running toward us, to our front and on our flanks. The enemy was everywhere. We opened up with everything we had. We sprayed the whole area. I had one fire team with me, and we really poured it on. I would say this was around three or four o’clock in the morning.
Jesse Anderson, “Big Tech,” brought a half squad to the area to relieve me. After Anderson relieved my squad, I looked in the place where Glover shot this enemy soldier. You could see plainly where he had been dragged off. Blood was there; someone had dragged him away. We were just about in the village, so we searched it. As we searched, we found more blood. I interrogated an old Korean man and pointed to the blood. He knew what I meant. He made a motion, flapping his hands and arms to pretend he had killed a chicken. I knew it was a damn lie, especially with all that blood in the snow. Whatever the blood came from—and we knew where it came from—it wasn’t from a chicken. They were hiding this guerrilla. I can assure you, Glover shot that guerrilla at least two times. Had it not been for Glover—as close as this guerrilla had gotten to us, if I had to stand, I could have touched this guerrilla in the center of his back. That’s how close he had gotten to us. There were two enemy grenades just lying there in the snow when Anderson relieved my squad.
When we returned to the perimeter, they were hitting us that night. I remember Paulding and Small, on a mountain south of the aid station. Both had been wounded; SFC Baker was killed during that engagement. You can tell what date it was, I cannot recall the date of that engagement. [January 7, 1951.]
We pulled out from the 7th Division Medical Evacuation and went into the attack with the 1st Battalion, 32d Infantry Regiment. Second Company was behind Company B, 32d Infantry Regiment. What happened that evening, prior to going into the attack, was we moved up into the mountains and saw some Koreans to our left front. We fired on them, but didn’t hit anyone. That morning we pulled out and continued the attack up the mountain. Second Company was following B Company, 32d Regiment.
We filed down this mountain, there was a village in front of us. When we passed that village, there was a huge rock or boulder. It was a big one. Just as I was leading the squad, the enemy opened fire on us. Rembert was a few yards away. He was hit in the chest. I think it killed him immediately. When Rembert got hit, the only cover we had, going up this hill, was this huge boulder that was there. We took cover behind it. The enemy was firing at us from the rear of the boulder. In other words, the boulder didn’t give us any protection whatsoever. People were hit all around that damn rock. That huge rock, or whatever you want to call it, actually didn’t give us protection at all.
I had a bullet rip me on the tip of my chin. Had it been an inch over, it would have taken my chin off. I spread my men out, firing up the hill. My automatic rifleman (BAR man that was with me) was Tank Clarke, and Lawrence Williams. I directed their fire on that doggone hill. Williams was closest to me and was hit. I would say someone was firing at us from our rear. The bullet that hit Williams entered the top of his head and came out in front of his eye. I looked at it, his brains started running out of the bullet hole. Glover who was to my left, was also hit. He got it in the neck. That’s how close I was to him. In all probability, this may have killed him immediately. Then, he was hit again in the neck.
We received the word to pull out. When I started moving back, Legree Aikens, who was about twenty-five to thirty yards from my position, was wounded. I ran across this rice paddy, and I think every Chinaman or Korean was shooting at me. I jumped in this huge ditch and crawled up to the bank. Standing no more than ten feet from me was a Korean. He didn’t see me. I leveled down on him and got off two rounds, but my carbine jammed. I always had trouble with that carbine. Anyway, he was shooting, as I looked at it, to his left. Just before I had gotten into position on that bank, a man in my squad (Robert St. Thomas) yelled, “Jack, where are you?” I yelled back, “Down here! Come on down!” Before I could get a shot off on this Korean in front of me, when I crawled up to the bank, he was shooting to my left. I am sure he was shooting at St. Thomas. Prior to this, St. Thomas had been hit in the foot, so I told him to come down where I was. When I called back up, standing before me, not more than ten feet, I mean ten feet, was a Korean. No way in the world I could have missed him. That’s when I got my two shots off with the carbine and it jammed on me. If I had been a little earlier, I would have knocked him down before. I believe he was the one who killed St. Thomas.
I pulled back to this little village. On the way, I saw this cap on the ground. It was an old tanker’s cap, lying in this ditch. You know, the kind that had flaps on it. It was the one Dude Walker had been wearing. When I saw the cap, I said, damn, they have gotten the Dude. When I arrived at the village, the Dude was there. He told me, “Look Jack, we’ve got a couple of wounded men here. I don’t want a living ass to leave until we get the wounded out.” I picked up a rifle and a belt with some ammo on it, and threw the belt over my shoulder. I took up a position on the high ground, not more than twenty-five yards from this Korean shack where several guys were lying wounded. Dude Walker and I were the last two men out of that place that day. I would like everyone to know what the Dude said on this particular day. He said, “Nobody will leave until all of the wounded are out of here.”
We pulled back to our position. That night the enemy reassembled and hit us again (counterattacked). I was back at the aid station. I was at the aid station or the division evac…. I wasn’t up there that night. Second Ranger Company and B Company, 32d Regiment made up for what the enemy had done to us on that bloody day.
Shortly after that we were relieved from duty around the 7th Division Medical Evacuation. We moved to the town of Tanyang itself. We set up defensive positions on the mountains in and around Tanyang. We had a chance to get some hot food, some rest, and at the same time we were patrolling, just keeping an eye on things in the mountains.
This incident happened while we were in Tanyang. We moved into those huts. Not being familiar with the way Koreans lived, we moved into those huts with all our equipment. We had lots of ammo, .45 and .30 caliber ammo, including hand grenades. The way you heat Korean houses, a fire is built on the outside in something like a small fireplace. The smoke from this fire goes under the house and comes out from a chimney on the other side of the house; the heating is done by heating the floor. Very little fire is needed to warm the house, but we put too much fire in the fireplace, and under the floor. Our ammo was in musette bags. The floor got so doggone hot the ammo was cooking off in those bags, which woke us up. We were lucky those hand grenades didn’t explode.
We remained around there (Tanyang) getting some rest, patrolling, keeping an eye on things. After that, we moved to Chechon. This is where we were training replacements. This is where 7th Division put them off on us. We didn’t mind at all. We had a chance to pull some good men out of that group, they joined the 2d Ranger Company. I remember after we trained them for a few days, things got hot up on the front line. Some ROK soldiers broke and we were sent to plug a gap in the line up there.
I’d like to mention that I had been hospitalized for having hepatitis. I was returning to the 2d Ranger Company. Traveling on the train Lieutenant Anthony and I happened to run into each other. Lieutenant Anthony was on his way to 2d Ranger Company. We were thinking the company was located at Chechon. Arriving at Chechon, we found out that the company had moved to Taegu. Lieutenant Anthony and I caught a train for Taegu, where we joined the company. When we reached Taegu, we went to the area where the company had been, but they had moved to a marshalling area, adjacent to the 187th Airborne Regimental Combat Team. The company had been assigned to the 187th ARCT for a combat parachute jump. When we arrived, we didn’t know where the parachute assault would be. But I knew that when the day came, we would have all the information about the drop.
Lieutenant Anthony and I joined up with the Rangers in the marshalling area, located in an apple orchard, adjacent to K-2 Airfield, Taegu, Korea, to prepare for the parachute assault. We had a chance to get passes to Taegu, do some shopping at the Post Exchange, have a few drinks and some fun. We knew the day was coming soon when we would be returning to the front lines. The day did come for our briefing for the parachute drop. In the meantime, we had gotten a couple of replacements. Some of our old friends who were in the 555th Parachute Infantry Battalion, the 3d Battalion, 505th Airborne Infantry Regiment at Fort Bragg, North Carolina, had been transferred to Korea to join the 187th Airborne Regimental Combat Team for this operation. It was a relief to see the guys from the old days, go into combat along with the 2d Ranger Company, being assigned to the 187th Airborne Regimental Combat Team.
When we were briefed for the airborne assault, I remember Weathersbee had made a sand table. We were briefed thoroughly on our mission. The initial drop was to be the town of Chechon. Anyway, we were briefed, we went to the airfield, packed our crew-served weapons, and made up a section that would handle 60mm mortars. I was placed in that section, because of my experience with mortars. Before joining the paratroopers, and during the time I was assigned to the 555th Parachute Infantry Battalion, I was in the 81mm mortar section. We packed our bundles, marked them with blue ribbon so that when we hit the ground, we knew how to find our bundles quickly.
The next morning we were scheduled to head back to the front lines. We loaded up on those planes. The planes 2d Ranger Company were jumping were C-46’s. We called it the old ass kicker. It was always a good plane to jump from. The unit flying our company was a National Guard outfit. I clearly remember the crew chief on the plane I was in was black. We loaded up and took off. We headed north, flew out over the ocean, made a turn, and came inland over the city of Seoul, the capital of South Korea. Then we headed for the drop zone.
When we made our turn, we were given the red light. When you get the red light, paratroopers know you will be exiting the aircraft in approximately ten minutes. The next thing you will see will be the green light. When the green light comes on, it is time to un-ass, or get out of that aircraft. The stick I was in was the left stick. To determine the right stick from the left of the aircraft, you face the cockpit of the aircraft, the door on your right would be the right door, and the door on your left would be the left door. My stick was jumping the left door.
The red light came on, we knew it was about ten minutes before exiting the aircraft. We went through the usual procedure before jumping: stand up, hook up, and check equipment. We were ready to go. All hooked up, we watched the red light. I remember Lieutenant Cliette was the jumpmaster of this particular stick. I cannot remember the number two man in the stick behind Lieutenant Cliette to help with our door bundles. When the green light came on, a bundle was crossed in the door. As you know, the 555th, the black paratroopers, were famous for exiting an aircraft on time. I mean, getting out of there, un-assing the aircraft. Well, this bundle got crossed up in the door. When the bundle got crossed, the right stick had completely cleared the aircraft and we had not even started jumping. That creates a real problem: you are either going to land on a hill occupied by the enemy, or you will land way down the field somewhere. What I did, I completely unhooked my static line from the anchor line cable, and was moving over to re-hook and jump from the right door. When I crossed over, the left door stick finally began to move. When the stick started moving, I was completely unhooked. So I moved toward the door, re-hooked, but didn’t have time to insert the safety pin in the static line fastener. I moved to the door and jumped out. Behind me was Adell Allen. He was the twelfth man in the stick. Anthony Andrade was behind Allen. I believe David Lesure was behind the third or fourth in the aircraft, in this portion of the stick.
So I moved toward the door, not even hooked up, and exited the aircraft. I had a fairly good body position. If you have a bad body position, especially in the C-46, you will feel it when the parachute opens. I could have had a good or bad position when that chute popped open, but I felt good about it. I’m descending, and I’ve got a couple bullet holes in my chute. I’m thinking, “people are shooting at us because we were late getting out of the aircraft.”
I landed in either an apple or peach orchard—some kind of fruit tree orchard. My chute got tangled in the small trees. I landed beside a small shack and heard a couple of shots. They were firing at us, so I crawled into the shack and was able to get out of my harness while in the shack. After removing my parachute, I had to go down field to get our mortars. Along the way I picked up the men who jumped behind me: Adell Allen, Anthony Andrade, David Lesure, and I cannot remember the others who were in the stick. We started looking for the bundles marked with the blue ribbon and couldn’t find them. We found two bundles with machine guns in them, though.
We headed to the assembly area with the two machine guns and the ammo that was dropped with the guns. When we reached the assembly area, the company had dropped their rounds of ammo. Every man in the 2d Ranger Company parachuted into combat with 60mm mortar rounds in their packs. That was unusual. But if you load every man down with a single mortar round, it is a good way of getting ammo into the Drop Zone. When we reached the assembly area, we put the machine guns down and found our mortars. Second Company had taken our mortars off the DZ. At the assembly area we still had the machine guns. We left the machine guns and picked up our mortars. The 2d Ranger Company had dropped all those mortar rounds in the assembly area, so we had plenty of mortar ammo. We loaded up.
I met Hargrove, I think he was platoon sergeant of third platoon. [Hargrove was a squad leader in 2d platoon.] They had knocked out a Russian 82mm mortar, dropped an incendiary grenade in the tube to destroy it, and kept the sight, which he handed to me. Anyway, the 1st and 2d platoons of the 2d Ranger Company were fighting their way to the top of Hill 151. We (the weapons platoon) fell in behind our reserve platoon, which I think was the 3d platoon. When we reached the first ridge, the moving command post (CP), Captain Allen and Lieutenant Anthony were there behind 3d platoon.
The 3d platoon crossed two rice paddies to get to the upgrade on Hill 151. Third platoon was hitting the rear of Hill 151, while the 1st and 2d platoons were fighting on top of Hill 151. Second Ranger Company was hitting the top and the rear of Hill 151 at the same time. This was good. The 3d platoon, I think it was the 3d platoon, where Van Dunk was killed out there.
When we reached this ridge, along where the moving CP was located, Captain Allen said, “Get those mortars in action to support the 3d platoon going across those fields!” We mounted our 60mm mortars quickly. The range was about four hundred yards. It couldn’t have been more than four to five hundred yards. What I did, I had them strip all the powder off the mortar rounds, you know they carry six charges. I had them remove all the charges except one, and started firing. We were dropping our fire directly in front of the 3d platoon. It was pretty close to them. I am sure they thought when those rounds started coming in, that we didn’t know what we were doing, and thought we would drop them right on their heads. But we were watching from our position on the hill, and could see every round hit the ground. We fired a round from each mortar. We walked that fire in front of 3d platoon, step by step up that mountain.
Actually, as I said before, the portion we were attacking was the rear of Hill 151. The 2d Ranger Company was fighting on the flank and rear of Hill 151 the same time. After we captured part of Hill 151, the mortars displaced forward to Hill 151. We went almost to the top of Hill 151. I saw Weathersbee with a bunch of prisoners. Prisoners were running all over trying to surrender. We were also getting a lot of sniper fire and whatnot. The 1st and 2d platoons pushed over Hill 151 and received a lot of rifle fire. We advanced forward to Hill 151 and supported the 3d platoon.
It was then that artillery fire started falling around us. Whatever size weapon they were firing, it was very large. They fired a barrage of five or six rounds, and then it stopped. The enemy had seen this big cloud of dust in the vicinity of Seoul. That cloud of dust was the movement of armor: tanks breaking through, coming to our Drop Zone, linking up with the paratroopers. Those were our tanks that were breaking through the enemy lines, giving us some support and relief. The enemy shifted their fire from us, the 2d Ranger Company, to the tanks.
We moved the mortars to the top of Hill 151 and dug in for the night. I had given up on the carbine long ago and started carrying an M-1 rifle. I was the only man in 2d Ranger Company who jumped with an engineer tool. I jumped into Munsan-ni with a D-handle shovel. The shovel was cumbersome, but I knew when we hit the ground that shovel would be needed to prepare our mortar positions.
We remained on Hill 151 and received continuous artillery fire. We also were getting rifle fire. But Hill 151 fell to 2d Ranger Company in record time. The next day, the tanks had a perimeter formed around the DZ. The heavy drop came in on the day we parachuted in, dropping supplies from the air to the troops. The pack howitzers that were dropped to the 187th Airborne RCT were positioned adjacent to 2d Ranger Company; they really cut loose.
The next day everything had been secured in that area, so we moved toward the DZ, where we boarded tanks and headed south. We were close to the Imjin River. We got to a point where we had to cross the river. Before crossing we approached some people who had been assigned to the 555th Parachute Infantry Battalion. They had been assigned to Mortar Battery, 187th Airborne Regimental Combat Team. (The 555th Parachute Infantry Battalion was an all-black parachute unit.) I saw Charles Bagley, a good friend of mine. They were firing 4.2mm mortars. Second Company crossed the river and headed north. When we crossed the river the enemy started dropping artillery in that area, so we crossed under fire. On the other side was a railroad and a surface road. We headed north, where elements of the 187th were fighting just ahead of us. The reached a place called Tonguchon. (On my return to Korea, I was assigned to the 32d Infantry Regiment. This unit was part of the 7th Infantry Division, and its main area was Tonguchon.)
When we arrived in Tonguchon the 187th ARCT was fighting on our right, attacking a mountain range there. The 4th Ranger Company (Airborne) was attacking a hill, and we were the only unit in position to give them supporting fire from our mortars. Captain Allen gave the order to support 4th Company with mortar fire. I remember 4th Ranger Company’s attack. On top of the high ground was a huge hole full of Chinese. We gave the Rangers support, and when they got to the top of the hill, it appeared as if every Chinese soldier in Korea threw grenades at them—and then ran as fast as they could.
I would like to mention the 4th Ranger Company objective during the Munsan-ni operation: this hill was in front of the 7th Infantry Division Medical Clearing Company—the same one we defended in Tanyang pass.
The 4th Ranger Company took that doggone hill, that mountain. I saw one Ranger going across that mountain by himself. Fourth Company took that hill. I want to mention the 64th Tank Battalion also. This was an all-black tank battalion. I remember the 64th from way back. It had been the 758th Heavy Tank Battalion at Fort Bragg, North Carolina (they were billeted next to us at Bragg). They maneuvered against us at Fort Campbell, Kentucky. That whole area we were fighting in later became Camp Hovey, 7th Infantry Division, after the war. The main gate was at Tonguchon, where we fired our mortars.
The 64th Tank Battalion came up and raked those mountains in that area with .50 caliber machine gun fire and knocked out gun positions with 90-mm gun fire. They raked and raked that hill. That evening, just before the sun went down, the tanks pulled back so they could get proper protection that night. When they withdrew, 2d Ranger Company threw a perimeter around the 64th Tank Battalion to keep the enemy from destroying the tanks.
Hill 581
We had been on Hill 581 once before. We had been up there, found some ammo and buried it on the hill. We didn’t know that one day we would return and use the ammo we had found on Hill 581.
We had been patrolling this area, then they decided to give us a rest. They put up these showers, real showers, like we had never seen before in Korea. We had been on the line all this time, so this was our first real rest. When we pulled back, we had a lot of weapons in the supply truck that had to be cleaned. We started cleaning our weapons after we had showered and changed clothes. They had a pile of clothing on the ground, so you could pick out something decent to wear. The clothing we were wearing was torn, filthy and needed to be changed. We had been in the mountains so long we had literally shredded our clothes. It was a relief to get some clean clothing. The sun was out and I recall it was hot. On this particular day, we had put up a supply tent. Several Rangers were cleaning weapons. I remember Captain Allen came into the supply tent and spotted this Korean sitting down cleaning a weapon. He didn’t know this person was a Korean—I am sure he didn’t know. Anyway, this Korean was helping us clean weapons, which wasn’t too strange. Just about every outfit over there had Koreans working in mess halls, or somewhere else doing something useful.
On this day the sun was bearing down and was really hot. What bugged Captain Allen was that person was sitting in supply tent on a really hot day cleaning weapons with a field jacket on and the hood over his head. The captain asked, “It’s hot. How in the world can you sit there, as hot as it is, wearing a field jacket?” He reached over and pulled the hood down, and all this black hair fell down. He was shocked to see a woman with us! Anyway, he pitched a bitch. We had a big laugh about it later, but the company commander didn’t think this was very funny and he kicked her out.
We finished cleaning weapons, remained in the area for a few days, then it was time to go back into the hills. Fighting was going on everywhere. On our way back to Hill 581, we climbed this mountain and saw some Koreans in the valley below us. We fired on them, but they were out of range and we didn’t hit anything. We pushed toward Hill 581. Our pilots were bombing in the vicinity. We crossed this valley between us and Hill 581 and started up the hill. As soon as we reached the top, we were ordered to make contact with the enemy. We dropped our mortars, with security, and started down the forward slopes of Hill 581, leap-frogging platoons. After we had completed one leap, the 4th platoon went into position, then we ran into heavy rifle fire. We had met the enemy.
I remember Sutton was with me during this time. He climbed this doggone tree to pull down some limbs to get a clear vision of the enemy situation and was wounded. I was about five yards from him. I had just moved forwarded. I remember yelling, “Let’s get these m______ f______s!” The next thing I remember, I was hit in the stomach, the right thigh, and in the right wrist. When I fell to the ground—it was just a matter of a minute or so—Doc Rabbit (William Thomas) came up. Rabbit said, “Damn Jack, you are hit pretty bad.” He gave me a couple shots of morphine. I think he did not believe I was going to make it and wanted me to die in comfort, or whatever. He cut my cartridge belt off me. I had two pouches of hand grenades and I was carrying an M-1 rifle. Rabbit cut all of that stuff I was carrying off me. Some medics came up and started walking me down the hill to the aid station, where they placed me in an ambulance and drove me to division evacuation. From there, I was moved to a MASH unit.
I remember that Koreans and Chinese were being treated at the MASH unit when I was there. It seemed odd because they were the enemy, and I remember that thought stuck with me. They operated on me there and eventually moved me to another MASH, and from there to a hospital in Japan, where I remained for some time. They were getting me ready to return to 2d Ranger Company in Korea. We went before a board of medical officers to prove we were fit, and test-fired our weapons to show we could engage again in combat, and were ready to leave. Some sergeant told me and another soldier to hold back. I guess they determined we weren’t fit to return to the front. We turned in our equipment and were told, “You’re going home.”
I would like to mention Munsan-ni, where we dropped. Years later, they put a community center in the middle of the DZ. In the community center they had a large PX and a chaplain center. They also had a recreation center in that area we dropped on in 1951.
When I was with the 24th Infantry Division, I was about five miles from our DZ. The orientation for all new arrivals in the 24th ID was to go to the DZ and look at the North Koreans across the DMZ. In order to get there, you had to pass Hill 151. To the right of 151 was a bridge, they called it Freedom Bridge. In the 7th ID area, where we were fighting, is Tonguchon. I spent one year in that area. The main gate is where we (2d Ranger Company) set up our mortars.
Recollections of James H. Fields,
2d Ranger Infantry Company (Airborne)
I was assigned to the 80th Airborne Anti-Aircraft Battalion, Division Artillery, 82d Airborne Division from November 1948 until October 1950. The 80th had moved from its old area to barracks in line with the 505th Third Battalion. It was sometime after the evening meal when someone came into the barracks saying there were some officers in the 505 area interviewing volunteers for a new outfit. When I arrived at the drill field, there was a white officer standing on a P.T. stand.
When we were assembled he started to speak. He said something like this: “We are forming the toughest, meanest outfit in the United States Army. I don’t know if you will go in by submarine, parachute or what, but you will be fighting. The unit will be called Rangers. We want volunteers. The line forms to the right.”
Well, I had to be in this outfit. I knew what Rangers had been in World War II. I had done research on Darby’s Rangers some time before. The post library had information and pictures of the men in the Rangers battalion. I knew about British commandos. I had this idea that we would be engaged in this kind of warfare: missions carefully planned, split-second timing, hit-and-run. I entered the building for the interview. I gave the interviewing officer such a persuasive spiel that I could not be turned down. I was in.
If I remember correctly, we cleared the post in three days and were on our way to Fort Benning, Georgia. We arrived by troop train and were transported out to the Harmony Church area to some drab barracks made like none I had ever seen before.
I was assigned to the first platoon: Lawrence Estell, squad leader; James Freeman, Platoon Sergeant; Bernard Pryor, First Lieutenant. Most of the men I did not know, with the majority coming from the third battalion 505th A.I.R. We were originally designated 4th Company—the last of the four companies. About two weeks into training we were changed to 2d Ranger Company. I never knew what that was all about.
I am convinced that 2d Ranger Company pushed itself to the limits training day and night to reach top combat efficiency. I arrived at Fort Benning and never left the post until we got on the train for Camp Stoneman, California. Lieutenant Allen and First Sergeant West said there would be no passes and I took them at their word. There were no public telephone lines out to Harmony Church. There was a public phone up on main post at the colored NCO Club. I got up to the main post by bus and the fellow in charge of the club gave me such a hard time I did not think I was going to be able to make my call. However, I did. I was just a Private First Class. I had heard stories of some of the fellows’ unauthorized excursions into town. I did not think it was worth it, given the racist, domineering attitude of the Columbus police.
We trained extremely hard, learning not only about our weapons but foreign weapons and maps. Sergeant Freeman and Lieutenant Pryor were two of the best I had ever seen in the field at night. They would take a map, get under a blanket, orient it, shoot an azimuth and bring us right to our objective. Had we had the time, all of us could have sharpened our skills to that point.
I always had this desire for ice water. We almost never had ice water. We would come in from training and there would be this young fellow selling ice cream. I don’t know where he came from out there in Harmony Church, but there he would be. I told him that I did not want any ice cream, but when he sold out, which he did, I would buy his dry ice. I took the ice and put it in my canteen cup and set my canteen on top of the ice and in minutes I would have cold water. Everything for the “Dogface” was so damned inconvenient. The taste of ice water was a luxury.
There were no rounds available for us to train on the 57mm recoilless rifle. We had to use a system called sub-caliber. A carbine barrel was placed in a dummy, a recoilless round was placed in the recoilless rifle and fired at miniature targets. It worked. I remember we were speed marching out to the sub-caliber training area one day. I had on combat boots, the ones with the two buckles. Someone stepped on one of my heels and it came off. I tried to get out of column and find it. That was impossible. I marched on with one heel missing and trained all day. There were civilian truck drivers on the post, and to my surprise trucks pulled in to take us back to the company area. This did not happen often in our training. We formed up in ranks. But some men broke for the trucks before Lieutenant Allen gave the order to mount up, and he sent the trucks away. We had to walk back, me with one heel missing.
There was also water training. I saw the training film the night before, and it looked pretty straightforward. You cross two rifles and secure them, and take two shelter halves and make a raft. Place your equipment on the raft and push it in front of you as you swim. The next day I was on K.P. (Kitchen Police). I don’t know what happened at Victory Pond. I got several conflicting accounts. The noon meal was prepared and waiting. I saw the company come into the area, but no one came to chow. I could see the company commander. He always looked angry, but this time more so than usual. The company encountered some difficulties in training—some that could have been tragic. Tragedy was averted, and they did eat the evening meal.
There was a problem getting aircraft in so that we could make training jumps. My last jump was at night. I had made one other night jump at Bragg. This was a simulated combat jump. We were jumping into enemy territory, blowing a bridge and escaping and evading an enemy force comprised of elements from the 325th Infantry. That was the night I lost my rifle grenade launcher and had a statement of charges against my pay. It’s funny how some things stick in your mind. We had completed our mission and were on our way out. There was a jeep coming up the road and we got into the woods just a few yards and they could not see us, but someone fired a blank and they were on us for most of the night. We had to stay off the road and go cross-country.
There was never a dull moment during training. I had never seen a flamethrower in operation before and I was impressed. The demonstrator set an old P. T. stand on fire. I never wanted to be on the business end of one of those.
We were being trained to live off the land, and in some cases prepare our own meals. When food came to mind, the worst Thanksgiving I have ever had was Thanksgiving 1950. We had moved from our old area to barracks across the road and some of our guys were cooking. Talk about on-the-job training.
Under the command of Lieutenant Allen and his staff of career officers and top-notch NCO’s, we were molded into a cohesive fighting force in a very short time. There were news reports that the war would be over by Thanksgiving, but our training never let up. We were given one Ranger Tab. The morning we were to leave Benning, brand-new city buses were lined up on the parade field to take us to the train in Columbus. We got off the buses and were faced with the colored signs indicating where colored people were to be seated. We took the signs with us.
It took five days to get to Pittsburg, California. We were in Camp Stoneman for a couple of days. My shot records were somehow lost and I had to take them again. The ferry carried us to San Francisco. I remember being in what looked like a warehouse by the water. Red Cross workers gave us coffee and donuts. I had seen in World War II newsreels how soldiers walked up a gangplank to board the ship, but didn’t get to do that. The ship had giant metal doors that slid back, so we just walked off the dock into the Butner.
It looked as though we were stacked one on top of the other to sleep. If you were the least bit claustrophobic, you were in trouble. Before I could find a place to settle, Lieutenant Pryor told me I was on guard duty and to report to the brig. The brig was in the very bow of the ship. A Marine Corps Sergeant, who was in transit just as we were, was placed in charge. Lieutenant Pryor did me a great favor by putting me on guard. I had plenty of room where I was, could shower whenever I wanted, had a badge that allowed me to go to the head of the chow line, and pulled guard all over the ship.
We stopped in Pearl Harbor and got shore leave, which surprised all of us. I saw downtown Honolulu and ate a good Chinese meal. I had to be back on the ship for guard duty that night. It was hotter than blue blazes on shore and we were dressed in our winter uniforms. I got a taxi ride back to the docks. The next morning before we pulled out, 2d Ranger Company fell out on deck for physical training. From my vantage point above the fantail I could see the men of 2d Ranger Company with their Mohawk haircuts doing calisthenics with the precision of a well-practiced dance team. We had a long two-week trip across the Pacific to Japan, and disembarked at Yokohama on December 24th. Went to Camp Zama by train.
While at Zama we drew pistols, knives, and cold-weather gear. We went to the post theater for orientation: cold weather survival, the enemy, and the terrain. We test-fired and battle-sighted our weapons. Aircraft became available after a few days and we were airlifted from Tachikawa Air Force Base to Taegu. There, our gear was thrown from the aircraft to the tarmac. It was not quite dark, so we were able to find our individual equipment. I was on the last truck in the convoy, and not very far into our journey north the truck I was riding on broke down. The truck ahead of us faded into the distance. It was extremely cold and it was some time before they realized we were not behind them and came back for us. I remembered thinking, “Is this the way it is going to be?” Others had it as bad or worse. I remember running across some troops who had been called up from the reserves and who were on the ship with us. They moved north by rail on a train whose windows had been shot out, and it was unheated.
The hills were barren, the roads so narrow around the hills, with such sharp drop-offs that convoys could only move in one direction at a time. I remember arriving at what I was told had been a school. It was then being used as an aid station, and medics were there unprotected. We were to set up a protective perimeter around the aid station and make part of it our command post. There was room for one platoon to sleep inside. First Platoon got the privilege. Our minds were not set at ease when we saw the bullet holes in the ceiling above us and in the floors on which we would be sleeping.
Second Company patrolled the hills around the aid station by day, set up defense positions and controlled the approach road at night. I recall returning from patrol and coming up to the command post from the rice paddies to the front. Our machine guns were pointed out toward us.
There were train tracks immediately above the aid station command post. The bullet holes in the ceiling and floors had been fired into the building from a train. We could hear a train coming when it was some distance from the aid station, and you could hear the distinct sound of burp gun firing. There were men lined up for chow on the far side of the station. I could see men moving about, seeking cover from what they knew was coming. Lieutenant Queen was patrol leader, and he gave the command to lay in on the train. It did not have many cars. I got off eight into the first boxcar, firing up and over the heads of our men. Shortly after that the train was in a tunnel, our machine guns were turned around and you could see tracers hitting in the tunnel.
One day coming off patrol into the command post my platoon leader told us we were moving after chow. We moved out toward an area we had never been before: up into the hills. As we set up a defense line for the night, jets flew over our positions firing at what seemed to be men running in a valley to our front.
I tried to dig a foxhole, but the ground was frozen so hard that I could only make a small depression. My canteen was frozen solid. Some G.I.s on a hill across from us were firing a machine gun almost all night. The next morning we moved out and joined a line of troops that stretched as far as I could see. I always thought that our mission would be when and if we got there. We came up to some huts. The people there were guerrillas and were shot on the spot. When they fell to the ground they were sprayed with automatic weapons. I could hear sporadic gunfire as we moved forward. The regiment was strung out up through a gorge and I could not see anyone, but I knew they were taking a lot of fire.
The enemy was on high ground and the fire was raining down on us. I was assistant BAR man to Billie Tate. He and I were together and caught in the open with no cover. I was carrying the BAR and could not get it to fire more than one or two rounds at a time. I told Tate to give me my M-1 and for him to take his BAR. Tate got the BAR to work. My M-1 worked fine for a while, popping them off as fast as I could load it. But after a while it would not extract, eject, and feed; I had to work it like a bolt-action rifle. Took my glove off my right hand to get the round out fast. Tate was hit and moved back. Higginbotham came up by my side and started to lay down a base of fire. Bullets kicked up the snow to our front and flanks. Everybody was shooting. I looked back and saw Lieutenant Pryor was standing, with blood streaming down from under his helmet and two men trying to restrain him. They led him away.
Lieutenant Allen seemed to have been hit in the hip. They had placed a soldier from the other unit just behind Higg and myself on a litter. He was covered with a blanket, but was shivering from the cold and had a strange pale complexion. Someone around the bend that I could not see yelled, “Here they come!” and that fellow got up off that litter and took off. There was all of this firing and fury of battle, then all of a sudden there was this silence. I looked around, it was just Higg and me. We looked at each other and not a word was spoken, but we both took off at the same time the way we had come. Moving down this steep, eroded ditch for cover, I became entangled in commo wire that regiment was laying as we moved forward. When I reached a point in the ditch it was as if a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. I knew I was no longer in danger. I picked up an abandoned BAR, which I gave to Sergeant Dude Walker. We got back so far there was a bird colonel looking at a map. He looked up and just said, “Keep moving.”
There were some Koreans with a huge stack of C-rations and they were handing them out. We had not eaten that morning and I was feeling the results. We did not get back to the aid station until that night, and we spent the night in tents.
The day after the Tanyang Pass action we moved down the road into a village. We burned everything we could get our hands on to keep warm. If I remember correctly, the floors were somehow heated from fires in the cooking area of the hut. My feet and right hand began to ache. The fingers on my right hand had started to turn purple. I knew that I was in trouble, but I did not know how much. Two officers came down from Division and interviewed Higginbotham and myself. We had been recommended for the Bronze Star. I was surprised at how many questions they asked, and the detail. Higg and I were interviewed separately. When the interview was over I went to the aid station, never thinking that I would not return. I left my rifle and other equipment in the hut. When I got to the aid station the medic took one look at my right hand and tagged me for evacuation.
After being tagged I waited for an ambulance. Soon we had a load and moved out just before dark to a field hospital, where we went to bed and stayed overnight. The following day we were transported to the railhead. To my surprise, there was my old Platoon Sergeant from the 80th. Sergeant Graham was a non-jumper. He had left Fort Bragg with an ambulance unit that was shipped to Korea in August. His unit was up north when the Chinese came into the war. He was telling me of the men he had seen out of 2d Ranger Company who had come through the hospital unit. One fellow he had seen was Donald West. West and I had been in Graham’s platoon. He and I had served on various demonstration teams in the 80th. I never saw Sergeant West again.
The train took us to Pusan. In Pusan harbor there were two hospital ships, the Consolation and the Repose. I was placed on one, I don’t remember which. I took a shower and I could not feel my feet. The last two fingers on my right hand were purple and hard to the touch. The next day I was lifted from the deck of one ship, set down on a platform, and lifted to the deck of the other. When the transfer of patients was finished we sailed for Yokohama. I think the hospital was 155th Army.
George Rankins was in the hospital and I saw Daniel Boatwright there. Rankins came down to the ward and told me he was going on convalescent leave, which he did, and then went back to Korea. The hospital was filling up with wounded. I could hear the ambulance come in at night and unload. They moved me to another ward and said a number of patients would be going to the Zone of Interior. A doctor came in, pointing to men, saying “ZI.” He pointed to me and I was on my way to the U.S.A.
I was transported out to Kaneda Air Force Base with a bunch of other wounded G.I.s and placed on an aircraft rigged to handle litters. I was strapped up in my litter and looked down on the floor of the plane and saw a soldier in a body cast who looked familiar. He and I had been in the same basic training company in Fort Dix. I asked him what had happened. He said he was riding a motor scooter in Pusan and was hit by a truck. We took off from Kaneda in a driving snowstorm. We arrived at Midway Island, where it was warm and raining. Took off from Midway, and arrived at Hickam Air Force Base. Stayed at Tripler Army Hospital overnight. The next day we were placed on a civilian airliner with stewardesses and army nurses. We flew to Travis Air Force Base, to Scott Field, Illinois, stayed overnight, then flew to Kellogg Air Force Base, Battle Creek, Michigan. The home of Percy Jones Army Hospital—the Frostbite Center.
My treatment began there in earnest. It was intense and painful, and I lost the tips of two fingers. My feet were O.K. I saw on television where Rangers along with the 187th ARCT had made a combat jump at Munsan-ni. I knew that 2d Ranger Company was among those Rangers. The only real regret of my short-lived army career was that I missed the jump. If anything can go wrong for me, it will.
They were giving seven-day convalescent leaves, which were not counted against your furlough time. My hand was healing well, but I had some infection and I could not go on leave. Then, when I was all set to go, the program was discontinued. I settled for a three-day pass. We ate in a huge dining room, but we had to line up to be served. We were at the breakfast meal and I looked over at the chow line and there was Louis Adams. He and I were so glad to see each other that I guess they thought we were suffering from combat fatigue. We were both in the 1st Platoon and our birthdays are the same day. While in Korea we said we were really going to celebrate. But I was evacuated out before that date. We still exchange birthday greetings.
My mother spent five days of her vacation in Battle Creek visiting me in the hospital. Her being black, she could not get a hotel room in Battle Creek. The hospital was almost in the heart of downtown. One of her co-workers had some close friends there and suggested she contact them and try to get lodgings, which she did. We would have the noon and evening meal together and just sit around and talk. Some days they would have live shows featuring local talent in the theater. I have often thought about the fact that I could go fight and face death, but my mother could not get public accommodations. The people she stayed with were great. The lady of the house worked at the hospital. Percy Jones offered employment to Battle Creek. The hospital had been closed before the Korean War, but was in the process of being opened and staffed when I arrived.
My enlistment was up July 17, 1951, but I found myself possibly faced with another year in service (the Truman Year). I wanted to go back to Bragg, but that was not to be. In July 1951, I was released from the hospital and assigned to Company D, 367th Armored Infantry Battalion Reserve Command, 3d Armored Division, Fort Knox, Kentucky, as cadre. The basic training cycle was about three weeks from starting when I arrived and they were making up the company. I was one of the first to come into the company who had seen combat in Korea. I was constantly asked what it was like there.
These guys were called “homesteaders.” I wore my jump wings proudly on my field cap and maintained the neat airborne appearance, with jump boots highly polished. I was made Platoon Sergeant of the 1st Platoon. I held that job until mid-cycle, when a sergeant rotated back. I was then his assistant. It was indeed satisfying to see raw recruits become soldiers. I had it in my mind that I was never going on bivouac again.
I tried to get transferred back to Fort Bragg. I wanted to get back to the 82d Airborne Division. I had a letter of acceptance to the 80th Airborne Anti-Aircraft Battalion, Division Artillery. I took a physical and training test. My letter of request for transfer, with all my documentation, went to 2d Army, but was rejected because I was on an involuntary extension. I never knew when I was going to be discharged. They first said you would have to do the year, then they started letting men out early.
A sergeant who was billeted in the company and I had talked on a number of occasions. He was assigned to Headquarters Reserve Command Training Committee. He needed an assistant and talked to his committee chief about me. They had made barracks available to the committee personnel and he moved to his new quarters. I had thrown the transfer out of my mind. We were preparing for bivouac. Orders came down that Friday that I was to report to my new assignment. On Monday, the company went to the field. I cannot remember that sergeant’s name. He was a Sergeant First Class and had not been to Korea. For what he had done for me I tried to do an outstanding job. Our working relationship was cut short by his being sent to Korea. I took his job, but was only a corporal. I was in charge of making and maintaining lesson plans, classes on the function and disassembly of the Browning Automatic Rifle, and training aids. Sometimes myself and my assistant, who was a Private First Class who had rotated back from Germany, would run the BAR range.
The Committee Chief came out to the range and was surprised to see us running the show. He told us we were doing a great job. We asked him on the spot, if we were doing such a good job, what about promotions? He said his hands were tied because rank was frozen.
I could not get back to Fort Bragg. I could not get promoted. What the heck. One day out of the blue I was told to report to 3d Armored Division Headquarters to be processed for discharge. Nine months and sixteen days into my Truman Year, it was over.