Roa Remembers "The Forgotten War" Korea

With the Korean War at the one year mark on 25 June 1951, there are prospects of peace talks. On 1 July 1951, Kim II Sung, commander of the North Korean forces, and Peng Teh-huai, commander of the Chinese Volunteers, agree to begin armistice discussions. By 10 July, negotiations between U. N. forces and the communists open at Kaesong, with an agenda agreement reached by 26 July.

"I arrived in Korea in July 1951, when we had pushed the enemy back up near the 38th Parallel, the original starting point," says LTC David R. Anderson, USAR (Ret.), of Saint Louis, Mo. Actually, when the war ended in 1953, he adds, "each side was dug in along the 38th Parallel. So the communists were right back where they had started. But more than 33,000 U.S. soldiers, sailors, and airmen had been killed--just in order to say and show that a mad communist assault and attempted takeover was not going to happen.

Although General Ridgway had notified commanders that no major offensives would be conducted during negotiations, both sides had agreed that hostilities would continue. And so, the warfare, and the bloodshed, and the deaths went on, through the beginnings of the peace talk plans and through the two interminable years of negotiations that followed. In their accounts this month, two ROA members join Colonel Anderson in describing some of that activity and some of those deaths; a fourth member takes us back to deadly action in April and how one very young man was spared.

1950-1951 UNITED STATES TO KOREA

LTC David R. Anderson, USAR (Ret.), of Saint Louis, Mo., arrived in Korea in July 1951, serving as a lieutenant with Battery A, 57th FA Battalion, 7th Infantry Division.

Young David Anderson was sent to Ft. Meade, Md., for his six-week ROTC summer camp after graduation from Washington University of St. Louis in June 1950. "Now, it just happens that while I was at summer camp, the Korean War started," he recalls. "Boy, the rumors started to fly: 'We were going to be commissioned at camp, and sent right straight to Korea!' Fortunately, it did not happen that way. We were all sent home after camp."

He received his commission in the mail, with orders to report to active duty at Ft. Bliss, Texas, on 26 November 1950. Just prior to that, on 21 November, he married Burt, "but that is another story--a good one, a happy one."

He continues: "Ft. Bliss was the home of the Anti-Aircraft Artillery, and so I assumed that I was going to go to the Anti-Aircraft Artillery School. However, when we got there, I was assigned to a Replacement Training Battalion, where they were giving basic training to new draftees. Because of the war, the government had stepped up the draft, and they had reopened an old basic training site from World War II. It was really just a bunch of tarpaper shacks. I was the lowly second lieutenant in the Basic Training Company. I had to teach classes on things like first aid and map reading. I had to lead the trainees in their daily PT (physical training). We took them on the rifle range. We took them on long marches out in the desert around Ft. Bliss. Some overnights.

"As it turned out, this was a break for me. For in May, when I got my orders to report to Camp Stoneman, Calif., for assignment to the Far East Command, I was probably in the best physical shape of my life. I was current in the basic combat skills--the care and cleaning of weapons, marksmanship, and map reading....

"I arrived in Tokyo by plane. They moved us by truck to a replacement depot in Yokohama. At the depot, we were told if we were going on to Korea or if we would be stationed in Japan. I was going on. They issued us all of our combat gear, things like mess kits, canteens, pistol belts, probably a shelter half, and a combat pack, a small carrying bag. We were given fatigue uniforms....

"They put us on a train to go from Yokohama to Sasebo, a port on the southern tip of Japan.... We took a ferryboat across from Sasebo to Pusan, the largest and major port in Korea. I don't remember the details, but I have a mental image of a rainy day, crowded streets, and a lot of noise.

"We were taken to another Replacement Center. It was here that I was told that I was assigned to the 57th Field Artillery Battalion, 7th Infantry Division, as a forward observer. I don't remember the exact conversation, but the gist of it was, 'I don't know anything about the Field Artillery or being a forward observer! The answer was, 'You can learn.' And away we went.

"...The next day we were loaded onto trucks for the drive north. I remember the drive through bombed-out villages and battle-scarred hills. The houses in the countryside were mostly just mud huts. The cities would have had some frame buildings. There were few brick or stone, as I recall.

"There were Korean farmers in their fields, ignoring the war. I saw evidence of that many times in the future.

"We arrived at the 7th Division Headquarters, and were then transported to the Field Artillery Battalion. I was introduced to a few officers, and then taken to my assigned battery, Battery A. We then had to get down to basics. I was issued an M1 compass and a pair of binoculars. I was told that these were the tools of my new trade. The role of the forward observer was explained. They said the best way to learn is 'on the job,' and so I was taken forward by jeep. We stopped at the bottom of a hill, and we then walked to the top. (Over a period of time, walking up hills was referred to as 'chugging,' for some reason.) So we chugged to the top, where I met a first lieutenant, whom I was to replace. Boy, was he glad to see me. We then began our training. As I recall, he didn't stay around too long....

"I had been up on the hill for a couple of days, getting to know my infantry company commander and getting to learn my job. I had been doing some shooting at 'targets of opportunity.' That was the phrase that we used when we saw some enemy activity and they were in range of our guns....

"Our company was given the order to take the hill in front of us. It had a ridgeline that ran off to the northeast, We would have to climb that hill and clear that ridgeline. My job was to provide the artillery support, whatever the company commander wanted.

"We first bombarded the hill with artillery. Then, as the attack by two of the platoons began, I gradually lifted the artillery--tried to move it along the ridgeline ahead of our troops. I stayed with the company commander, by his side.

"The platoons cleared the hill of Chinese. With the company CO, we walked to the top. I will never forget the scene. I can close my eyes and still see it today, 50 years later. Foxholes and trenches all over the hill. Little streams of smoke rising from scattered places. Fires started by the artillery bombardment. And bodies. Chinese bodies scattered all about.

"The company CO got on his radio and was reporting back to his battalion. The final part of his report was his casualty report. I'll never forget his words: 'We have seven walking wounded, and three who will never walk again.'

"Three U.S. soldiers killed for a lousy little hill in a faraway land. And this scene is repeated all up and down the front line, day after day. War is hell."

ABOUT 10 JULY 1951

K-16 TO HAEJU

Col Marcus C. West, USAP (Ret.), of Yankeetown, Fla., served in the Pacific Theater during WWII, flying OA-10 Catalinas. He had 146 missions on the Berlin Airlift, flying C-54s. He retired in 1971 with 6,000 hours of flying time in approximately 35 different types of military aircraft.

Colonel West and his wartime navigator in Korea, Ed Crevonis of Dayton, Ohio, tell the following story about a rescue that is described in the 1959 History of the Air Rescue Service as one of the quickest rescues ever made by a fixed wing aircraft during the Korean War. Both men were first lieutenants at the time.

"The summer of 1951 found us flying out of K-16, an airbase near Seoul, South Korea. We were with a detachment of SA- 16 amphibious rescue aircraft on temporary duty from our home base in Japan," Colonels West and Crevonis write.

"The primary mission for that day (on or about 10 July) was to orbit off the coast of North Korea to effect rescue of airmen shot down by enemy aircraft or who had to bail or make crash landings due to malfunctions," they explain.

When a Mayday came through on their emergency channel, they were "about 10 miles south of Haeju, North Korea, and the caller was the leader of a flight of P-51s who said that one of his aircraft had gone down, the pilot had parachuted and had landed in the harbor of Haeju."

The crewmates continue: "We were in sight of the area, weather was clear, and the sea was calm. We notified the P-51 flight where we were and that we were turning inbound toward Haeju, descending at the time.

"During the descent, we could see three P51s orbiting an area toward the southeast end of the bay that formed the harbor...."

About 10 minutes after receiving the initial call, Lieutenant West landed on a northeasterly heading at the entrance of the bay. He taxied toward the area "but slowed down when [they] noticed poles sticking Out of the water. This meant that the water was becoming more shallow. The eastern shore, which was about a mile away, appeared to be a tidal flat, and the number of poles increased" as they moved forward.

"These poles were apparently markers or supports for nets or platforms for oyster beds, and our concern increased when the water color turned from deep blue to a muddy blue. Navigator Ed Crevonis went forward and opened the nose hatch of the SA-16...to try to locate the downed pilot. From his vantage point, he could see the bottom of the bay, and steered Lieutenant West along the deepest area of the channels, while scanning for the survivor.

"The poles dotting the area stuck out of the water about two to three feet and could have been mistaken for a person floating in the water.... One pole appeared to be lower than the others. Lieutenant Crevonis identified it as appearing to have a human face and differing in color from that of the black poles. Lieutenant West taxied directly toward this object. It was the survivor, but he didn't signal or move, so we slowed down to a very cautious approach....

"Because the downed pilot could not be located from the air, and because there was no wind for a standard recovery, our tactics had to be altered to fit the occasion. The tide was ebbing and Lieutenant West had to maintain forward speed just to remain at one location. With this configuration, the water brought the downed pilot directly to the nose of the aircraft, where Lieutenant Crevonis grabbed his collar and held him against the side of the aircraft. The rest of the crew rigged the boarding platform at the left rear hatch. After ensuring that they were ready, Lieutenant West shut down the left engine so as not to chance decapitating the survivor.

"Lieutenant Crevonis let go of the pilot, and he floated back along the hull where he was pulled aboard by the crew. During all of this activity, he seemed to be in a dazed condition and did not show any movement.

"As the pickup was under way, some of the crew noticed splashes in the water several hundred yards away, and it appeared to be coming from artillery shore batteries. We violently waved to the orbiting P-51s and pointed toward the shore.... In short order, the P-51s silenced the batteries....

"Since we were still in shallow water, and amidst the poles, Lieutenant West placed the props in reverse thrust, and following the signals from Lieutenant Crevonis, who could see the pole placement and the channel from the nose, we taxied backward until we were clear of the poles. We then turned around in a deeper spot, switched to forward thrust, and wasted no time in saying good-by to Haeju Harbor.

"The rescued pilot was aware enough to sit in a seat. He was covered with a blanket and given hot soup, which seemed to revive him considerably. The flight back was uneventful; when we landed at the base, his P-51 buddies were on hand to meet the SA-16. The survivor walked off the aircraft and was given a beer by his mates. He immediately disappeared into a waiting vehicle without uttering a single word to the crew who pulled him out of Haeju Harbor.

"The entire mission, from first notification until takeoff from the harbor, did not take more than 15 to 20 minutes..."

Although both Colonels West and Crevonis have their AF form 5 flight logs for the flight, listing the type of mission, date flown, and total hours, neither has on file the crew orders for that mission. They apologize "for being unable to give credit by name to the rest of our aircrew personnel who all performed their assignments in a very creditable manner." To add to their story, they would welcome input from their former crewmembers, the P-51 pilots, and especially the unidentified downed pilot.

JUNE 1950-JULY 1951 ASHIYA TO KOREA

Lt Col Lorin N. Trubschenck, USAF (Ret.), of Lomnpoc, Calif., was a captain with Crawford's Commandos, flying from Ashiya, Japan, to K-2, K-3, and K-1, Korea, in July and August 1950, and continuing those flights via Tachikawa AFB with the 13th Air Base Group, until 24 July 1951. He tells the following story:

Those first weeks in June of 1950 were somewhat hectic. Many of us 'throttle pushers' were sent from our regular jobs to Southern Japan airbases for supply flights to Korea. Colonel Crawford set up a mini-Berlin-Airlift-type operation and thus we were dubbed Crawford's Commandos.

In this operation, all operational 9/C would be towed to the loading line, nose to tail. As each plane was loaded at the loading dock, it would taxi for takeoff and head for Korea. The next plane would then be towed to the loading dock, etc. We were able to load a lot of Gooney Birds (C-47s) quickly this way. Those first few weeks, speed was essential, as supplies were badly needed.

Overall, in those first few weeks, the enemy was weather (wx), not North Koreans (NKs). I can remember no losses from NKs, but some from wx. Korea is a very mountainous country. It was impossible to fly under the wx to our destinations; we had to go on top. At our destination airport, the trick was to find a way through the undercast to the airport. And in those first few weeks, radio aids to navigation were nonexistent. To get down under the clouds meant finding a hole and spiraling down through it. Often the spirals were a step from being controlled spins--hoping all the way that the hole did not close up! Once under the clouds, then find the airport, such as it was. We did have air-to-ground contact with the airport controllers or we never could have found the airports. After a few weeks, NDB (non-directional beacons) were installed and things improved in airport location.

Our payloads to Korea were something else! Many loads were made up of 200 pairs of Army combat boots, from 4- to 50-gallon drums of gasoline, 150 cases of C rations, boxes of ammo, medical supplies, and some returning military personnel.

Those were the easy loads. The most difficult were Army radio-control jeeps and their crews. Two jeeps would just fit in the cargo space of a Gooney Bird. We, the flight crews, had to get in the cockpit first, as there was no way after the jeeps were loaded. Normal take-off gross weight of a C-47 was not to exceed 33,000 to 34,000 pounds. With the jeeps and their crews, we were grossing out at 38,000 pounds....

Almost all of our payloads, at first, went off the plane onto Army trucks and straight to the front lines. There was no place to store things, and they were all badly needed, NOW!...

While the NKs were chasing us down the peninsula in those early weeks, arrival conditions at our destination airports were less than ideal. On numerous occasions, control of the airport was split between us and the NKs. They would control the north end and we the south. First arrivals in the a.m. had to ascertain which end of the airport we controlled. There was no way to turn around on the ground in the middle of these strips, which barely qualified as airports. To minimize exposure to enemy small-arms fire (and luckily, that was all they had), we were making fighter approaches in our C-47s. This type of approach was as close to ground as possible, through the trees on occasion and very sharp, high-banked turns almost to touchdown in the middle of the field. Departures were the same: Start a sharp turn the second off the ground, and stay as low as possible. Scary to a lot of people (and us), but safest from small-arms fire! To my knowledge, we never lost a plane this way, but received an occasional bullet h ole.

Personnel morale was high during those first few weeks. We were in a real team effort with the Army and Marines.... Also, on almost every return flight we were transporting wounded, just off the front lines, to rear hospitals. We were all very proud to be so helpful in saving many lives.

After those first weeks, I was ordered back to the Far East Air Material Command (FEAMCOM), and my regular duties, as officer-in-charge of the Iwahara Ski Lodge in the Northern Japanese 'Alps.' The decision had been made to reopen the hotel for R&R.

Gen John Doyle, CG of FEAMCOM, had been authorized to support and maintain his own Korean Air Material Units (KAMU), with his own people. This meant all rated officers (pilots) must fly at least two missions to Korea from Tachikawa AFB near Tokyo each month, plus perform their regular duties.

Iwahara is approximately five and one-half hours by rail north of Tokyo. For me to fly my mission, the following took place: Board the 'down' train at 1 a.m. Proceed to Tokyo through the world-famous Yuzwa Tunnel (which does a 360 degree inside a mountain and climbs approximately 2,000 vertical feet; it was engineered by the United States). Arrive Tokyo 6 a.m., board waiting jeep for one-hour ride to Tachy AFB, grab a bite for breakfast, get plane assignment (C-46 or C-47) and mission briefing. Depart for Korea (approximately three and one-half hours), offload cargo, load litter patients and return to Tachy. Board waiting jeep to Tokyo; board the 'up' train for Iwahara. Arrive there at about midnight. Mission completed in approximately 24 hours.

This was done at least twice a month for over a year. Made for one long day in bad weather.

APRIL 1951 FRONT LINES, KOREA

MAJ Glenn F Dohrmann, USAR (Ret.), of Cedarburg, Wis., was a first lieutenant serving with B Company, 5th Regiment, 1st Cavalry Division, from February to 17 October 1951, except for two weeks with the Heavy Weapons Company. He tells the following story:

In April 1951, I received a radio message to send a private first class back to headquarters, just before going into an attack. He had just been through an assault with us, and we were on our way to another. How they finally discovered, after he had crossed the ocean and been assigned to the front line, that he was just 15 years old baffles me. He had lied convincingly, was mature for his age, a big husky Kentucky lad, and a great talker. He was believable, and I took him for his word that his father had killed a revenue agent, defending his still, and was in prison for a very long sentence. An interesting lad! I was glad to see him out of 'action,' but am sure he would have been a fine combat soldier. Fortunately, he missed the next attack.

Both the Chinese and North Koreans were excellent with mortars, especially the 120mm tubes. In the 'approach march,' my platoon was fired upon with automatic weapons as we started up the ridge to the left of the objective, pinning us down. Leaving the platoon sergeant with the unit, I took the A-4 tripod machine gun squad and maneuvered safely halfway up the ridge, setting them up behind a big boulder, to fire on the enemy machine gunners every time our troops were fired on. The sergeant was then able to bring the rest up without a casualty. The Chinese 'walked' the ridgeline just left of and parallel to ours with eight rounds of 120mm mortars. Then, silence for a couple of minutes.

One more round was fired. It lifted into the sky on its silent, deadly arch. We heard the last fraction of a second swish before contact. Mortar and rock fragments and a cloud of dust and powder. The round landed right on the A-4 machine gun, destroying it, killing four soldiers, one blown 40 feet down the ridge, wounding five, and one soldier wounded and out of his mind who had been blown 10 feet onto his stomach, lying there wide-eyed, clawing the ground with his fingers. A few pats on his cheek settled him.

I then ran to the soldier blown 40 feet down, listened for a heartbeat and pulse. Nothing. He had a bad shrapnel wound in his chest. My medic confirmed his death. One round, 10 casualties. The company commander ordered us to 'reserve the third platoon passing through to assault the objective. ROA

KOREAN WAR CHRONOLOGY JUNE 1951

16 February 1951-27 July 1953

Siege of Wonsan. Task Force 95 (U.N. Blockade and Escort Force) blockades Wonsan Harbor. An unprecedented 861 -day naval operation, it is the longest effective siege of a port in U.S. Navy history.

20 May-20 September

Operation Strangle. Massive all-out air interdiction campaign is carried out by FEAF, TF77 and 1st Marine Aircraft Wing (MAW).

1 July

Kim II Sung, commander of the North Korean forces, and Peng Teh-huai, commander of the Chinese Volunteers, agree to begin armistice discussions.

10 July

Negotiations between U.N. forces and communists open at Kaesong.

26 July

Agreement reached on agenda for armistice talks.

Sources: The Korean War by Matthew Ridgway; The Korean War by Max Hastings; and Homepage, 50th Anniversary of the Korean War Committee--www.korea5O.army.mil/

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