Give Me Tomorrow

BOBBY HALLAWELL briefly glanced down at his watch, one of the only working timepieces worn by a fighting member of George Company, and then looked to his right and left. Many of his comrades from Pendleton were gone—killed or wounded at Inchon or in the house-to-house fighting in Seoul. First Sergeant Zullo’s piercing voice broke through his moment of reflection. “Get the men into formation,” he barked to his NCOs.

George Company assembled by platoon, the men standing shoulder-to-shoulder in their thinned ranks. For the last few days, the remnants of George had been living in a bombed-out factory that was only partially covered by rusted, corrugated iron skin.They were about to board LSTs and leave Seoul.

Earlier, hiding his deep disappointment at leaving the men he had commanded for the past two months, company commander George Westover had introduced his successor to his officers before quietly slipping away. “I had a great affinity for these men,” he would say later.

George Company’s new commander, Captain Carl Sitter, ambled to the front of the group and was greeted by a thousand-yard blank stare repeated on scores of haggard Marines’ faces—what was left of George Company. He addressed the group with no fanfare or bluster, just a few unmemorable words acknowledging the change of command.

Unlike Westover, Sitter’s outward appearance didn’t impress the men. One Marine thought with a smirk, This dumpy, pear-shaped guy from H and S Company is going to lead us? Another later quipped, “We didn’t think much of him. We were riflemen, and we heard he was from Headquarters Company.” When he first saw Sitter, Harbula thought, This isn’t the typical spit-and-polish officer. This guy looks frumpy.

The men of George Company didn’t realize that Sitter was a Mustang, initially an NCO before becoming an officer. A seasoned combat veteran, Sitter had been involved in several major campaigns during the bloody battles in the Pacific, earning the Silver Star. Sitter also received a Purple Heart for wounds suffered on Eniwetok, located in the Marshall Islands.

In the summer of 1950, an out-of shape Sitter had almost been left behind as the First Marine Regiment boarded ships for Korea. Despite an impressive combat record in World War II, the captain, who “began having weight problems” as he grew older, was not considered regimental timber. To remedy the situation, pudgy Captain Sitter reported directly to regimental commander Chesty Puller.

All of the officers’ billets were filled at the time, with the exception of the Regimental Special Services Officer, a slot normally reserved for a first lieutenant. Sitter graciously took the demotion, which included the inglorious duty of inventorying basketballs, softball bats, footballs, and athletic supporters. Sitter had gotten his wish and was finally in the regiment, on a ship heading toward the war and his destiny.

Once the First Marines had docked in Kobe, thousands of men from the regiment disembarked, and their equipment was offloaded onto the Japanese docks, including Sitter’s special service gear. Ironically, a massive typhoon hit Japan then and blew the equipment into the water. Sitter reported back to Puller, “Sir, we have no more special services gear.”

That was effectively the end of Sitter’s career as a special services officer. Shortly after landing at Inchon, he was made a liaison officer for the Fifth Marines.After the capture of Seoul, Sitter was transferred back to the First Marines, where he later joined George Company.

As Sitter finished addressing the Marines and he assumed command, his destiny became intertwined with theirs. While few of the men knew their fate, forty years later, an article in The Leatherneck would ask an interesting question: “Would history have been altered if Col. Louis B. Puller had answered ‘No’?” The men of George Company and Sitter would soon find out.

Shortly after Sitter’s brief change-of-command speech, the Marines formed up and marched to Inchon, where they boarded the LST, once again ironically commanded by the Japanese, their former enemy. Just five years earlier, the two had fought savagely during the bitter battles for control of the Pacific.

Each man made his way into the cramped bowels of the grimy ship, stowed his gear, and claimed one of the scarce racks. Within an hour, the gull-grey prow of the LST cut its way through the emerald coastal waters of Korea. It headed south toward Pusan, where it would round the tip of the Korean peninsula before turning north again toward one of the only large harbors in North Korea, Wonsan.

After the spectacular success of the Inchon landing and the recapture of Seoul, combined with the U.S. Eighth Army’s breakout from the Pusan Perimeter, the shattered North Korean People’s Army was on the run. Sensing that the enemy was mortally wounded, MacArthur raced toward the Yalu River, North Korea’s border with China.

With the recapture of Seoul, X Corps, commanded by Major General Almond, which included the First Marine Division under Major General Smith, was to be loaded onto ships. They would steam around the North Korean peninsula and land in the eastern port of Wonsan. Simultaneously, the Eighth Army was advancing up the west coast of Korea toward the Yalu, led by Lieutenant General Walker.

Wonsan was one of the few open ports on the eastern side of the peninsula. The plan called for X Corps to land at Wonsan and drive northwest to the Yalu. The Seventh Marine Regimental Combat team would advance north from Wonsan to a larger city known as Hungnam. There they would continue to advance toward the Manchurian border 135 miles away across some of the most rugged terrain in North Korea, including the jagged and barren Taebaek Mountains, which have been compared to a smaller, less picturesque version of the American Appalachians.

A single road connected X Corps objectives. Starting in Hamhung, the road went to Koto-ri through the nearly impassable Funchilin Pass. From Koto-ri, the next major hamlet was known as Hagaru-ri. The road, ingloriously dubbed the Main Supply Route—in Marine lingo MSR—connected the small towns and passed a large body of water, which, on the aging Japanese maps the Marines used, was labeled the Chosin Reservoir. (North Koreans and South Koreans referred to the area as the Changjin Reservoir.)

From their first operation at Inchon, the tension continued to fester between Smith and General Almond. After the war, Almond described the relationship this way: “I got the impression initially (and it was fortified consistently later) that General Smith always had excuses for not performing at the required time, the tasks he was requested to do.” Smith had reason to advance the First Marine division north cautiously toward the Yalu River and the Eighth Army. The Marines were going over some of the most impassable terrain in North Korea, which presented numerous supply and logistics problems. Additionally, his flanks were exposed to a counterattack by North Korean and Chinese forces.

For the Marines, food became a big topic. The men lived on a steady diet of canned corned beef and canned pears for nearly a week. Sixty years later, some men still won’t touch a canned pear.Tom Enos recalled that being placed on guard duty was a “big deal,” because it meant being able to raid the storeroom of canned cheese, which worked wonders on the soldiers’ digestive tracts. Fresh water was also scarce. The men showered only once on the entire trip. Combined with the cheese, the men’s bowels created a ripe stench.

On October 26, the LST arrived off Wonsan harbor. However, it steamed back and forth along the Korean coast, while mine sweepers cleared underwater mines. The unforeseen threat delayed the operation. The Marines of First Division boarded LVTs and churned across the choppy, sea-green waters as they made their way toward the beach. Instead of angry machine-gun nests, mortars, and artillery, the men were greeted by Air Force and Army personnel who snidely remarked, “Ha! We got here before the Marines this time!”

Days earlier, South Korean forces had captured Wonsan and had been cleaning up isolated pockets of resistance. As George Company moved deeper into Wonsan, they observed Bob Hope’s USO show entertaining the troops who had liberated the port several days earlier—rubbing further salt in the wound.

As they marched toward the battalion assembly area, George Company got to know Sitter, who marched alongside them, sometimes pulling ahead of the column. Though Sitter was out of shape and his feet quickly blistered (his socks becoming red with blood), he insisted on keeping up with his men. At an assembly area, they bivouacked in a secure area on the side of a hill outside the port. North Korean farms made a patchwork quilt around the area. After eating nothing but canned corned beef and pears for days, the men salivated at the site of a large, bloated, black-haired pig. Harbula turned to fellow machine gunner, Roy Shirey, a rusty-haired farm boy from the Deep South. The men of northern extraction liked to poke fun at Shirey, but he took it all in stride and dished it back in stride. Many of George Company’s Marines hailed from Alabama and Georgia where the Civil War still raged in some people’s minds. Several of the men even carried stars-and-bars confederate battle flags or forced their northern brethren within George Company to carry the banner sometimes as a light form of hazing.

The man seemed to agree at first. Then the negotiations broke down, and the farmer became very excited. The men couldn’t understand why. Luckily, one of George Company’s interpreters was brought forward, and the men now understood why the farmer had gone into a tirade.