|
CHAPTER FIVE For God,
Honor, and Country
|
|
Michael
Aragón enlisted in the United States Marine Corps for the second time
in his life.
He wasn’t alone.
Many thousands had heard the call to arms and answered.
Most of these men knew what was at stake.
These men had fought an earlier war
they thought would end all wars. But
that hadn’t been the case. Reporting
to Camp Pendleton in Oceanside, California Michael’s training began.
Now that he was older, exercise didn't come as easy.
Still he gave it his best. He
knew the drill; it was a repeat of earlier times.
The three-mile hikes and weapons target practice were familiar to
him. While
Michael was gearing up for the horrors of war many others were already
entrenched in a difficult and bloody fight.
Among these was his comrade in arms, Peter Wellington.
Shortly after Marine hero, Chesty Puller, and his marines entered
Seoul and freed South Korea, Wellington was assigned to Seoul.
Captain Peter Wellington was honored to be stationed in Seoul and
proud to be a Marine. But he
was even prouder to be in Chesty Puller's regiment.
When he arrived at the command tent, it was a beehive of
activity. A thick cloud of
cigarette smoke hung in the air as he sat listening to the junior
officers in the background rehashing their heroic tales of the capture
of Seoul. The tales seemed
to become bolder with each telling. The
sergeant major walked into the tent and announced in a loud voice.
“Captain Peter Wellington USMCR 010189.
Colonel Puller will see you now.”
The words were made to sound official and to the point.
Wellington’s palms began to sweat at the thought of meeting
America’s greatest soldier. Wanting
to make the right impression, he stood at attention and saluted stiffly.
He then followed the sergeant outside and walked over to the
Colonel's tent to present himself. Standing
at attention, he held his shoulders back and stomach sucked in.
His salute was as crisp as a new dollar bill.
“At ease Captain,” Came Puller's commanding response.
“Yes Sir.” Wellington
responded respectfully still standing as tall and erect as possible.
Having been warned that Puller never engaged in idle chatter
Wellington stood and waited for the Colonel’s directives.
To Wellington’s surprise Puller began to talk about home.
Then he spoke of Wellington's World War II combat experience and
the Raiders. Having fought
along side Raiders in the Pacific Theater, Puller knew and respected
them. As he reminisced about
those days at Guadalcanal he commended their courage.
It was apparent that Puller had thoroughly reviewed
Wellington’s file. After
Puller and Wellington had spoken for some ten minutes the Colonel
finally gave Wellington his orders.
He was assigned to the 1st Battalion, 1st Marines.
Lieutenant Colonel Jack Hawkins was the commanding officer.
“That’s all Captain.” With
those words Puller had brought the interview to an end.
The Colonel saluted and handed him his file.
Wellington returned the salute to his hero and left the tent.
The Battalion’s destination was Wonsam.
On the east coast north of the 38th parallel, it was a desolate
place. Grabbing
his gear Wellington caught a ride on a jeep headed to Inchon Harbor.
After being dropped off with two other officers at the dock he
waited for over an hour before being taken aboard a Higgins Boat.
Once on board the small personnel carrier he was ferried out into
the harbor. A few minutes
later the Higgens made its way along side the Battalion's ship.
A long and barrel-shaped LST, it was designed to carry men,
trucks and other vehicles for unloading directly on the beach.
By the time he reached the ship Wellington had been traveling for
three days straight. Tired
and unable to sleep, he spent the night smoking cigarettes and drinking
day old coffee from the boat’s galley.
He was anxious to get started with the war. The
next morning, Wellington met Lieutenant Colonel Jack Hawkins his new
commanding officer. Hawkins
a Naval Academy graduate from Texas was soft-spoken and not much of a
talker. When the Lieutenant
spoke he was efficient and to the point.
Of medium height and very thin he was youthful looking for his
thirty-two years. The
Lieutenant’s high cheekbones and coffee brown eyes reminded Wellington
of his own father. His
close-cropped, light brown hair was slightly graying.
Hawkins had lost a great deal of weight during the battle at
Inchon-Seoul and his dungaree jacket was baggy on him.
The battle had left little time to be concerned about food.
They were too busy trying to stay alive.
He didn’t mince words when it came to company discipline and he
quickly outlined the do’s and don’ts of his command.
The enemy was too good to be taken for granted.
The tough, well-trained, and well-entrenched Communist enemy had
put up one hell of a fight. The
Americans learned quickly that the North Koreans were rough customers
who would give them a run for their money.
They were as good as the Japs.
For this reason the Colonel demanded total conformity and control
of command. He expected his
officers to be prepared for any possible outcome.
Hawkins’ Americans would have to be ready for action at all
times and be prepared to move out at a moment’s notice.
Tolerating no sloppiness or laziness, he demanded his Marines and
their gear be kept shipshape. Once
Hawkins felt that Wellington had gotten the message, he assigned him as
company commander of Headquarters and Service or H&S Company A.
After giving Wellington all of the necessary paperwork Hawkins
discussed the following day’s activities, assignments and personnel.
Fortunately, all of Wellington’s men were aboard ship and being
transported with him. The
files had everything the Captain needed to understand his men and their
needs. It was late in the
morning when Hawkins finally dismissed Wellington to his bunk
instructing him to get some rest. Having
first learned about A Company in August of 1950, Wellington was pleased
with his assignment. Within
a few minutes he found his bunk and fell asleep.
He would need his rest. The
North Koreans were on the move. Many
of the CP’s activities were Standard Operating Procedure or SOP.
No part of his command meant less then any other.
Areas such as motor transport and supply or the administration
unit were easily managed until the command ran out of essential supplies
such as gasoline or oil. If
transportation became a problem, the shit would hit the fan.
Even an excellent officer could forget the importance of these
less glamorous areas of command. They
were essential parts of a giant well-oiled fighting machine; they needed
to be attended to. Each had
a distinct job to do and everyone had to coordinate flawlessly.
This meant that Wellington’s job carried with it the need to
maintain a delicate balance. Many
times he and his men would have little time to establish the CP and its
communications. Often they
would do so under fire. Under
great pressure, particularly during battle, it would be necessary to
keep things operating smoothly. Here
his experience would serve him well.
The Tactical Air Control Party or TACP was also under
Wellington’s command. The
TACP was a new unit developed by the Corps after World War II.
Reading about it in the papers back home Wellington collected
more complete information on it when he reported for duty.
This was Yankee know-how at its best, heavy firepower coordinated
and directed for maximum effect. The
enemy was surgically removed from the battlefront through strikes meant
to deliver a decisive blow. Given
the superiority of enemy numbers the TACP was America’s best hope for
winning the conflict. It was
designed to give the Marines their edge in Korea.
And Peter Wellington intended to take full advantage of this
tactical weapon. He would
learn it inside and out. After
requesting a roster of the Marines under his command Wellington prepared
to meet the members of the guard platoon.
Listed in alphabetical order the first name he recognized was
Corporal Michael Aragón. Wellington
couldn't resist. He asked
the first sergeant to have Corporal Aragón brought to him.
Ten minutes later, there stood twenty-seven year old Corporal
Michael Aragón. The young
man had changed. He was no
longer the tall, skinny kid that Wellington remembered from the Pacific.
Aragón had a mature presence about him now.
Gone was the look of the childish adolescent from his eyes.
It was replaced by the colder more knowing gaze of a battle
hardened soldier who had seen death too many times. After
his presence was announced Michael stood at attention.
“At ease Corporal,” Wellington shouted while looking down at
the Michael's personnel file. As
Wellington looked up, the two smiled and immediately shook hands.
“Well, what do you have to say for yourself, Corporal?”
Captain Wellington demanded. Unable
to restrain himself, the Captain walked around the desk and stood in
front of Michael. “Damn
it's good to see you Sir!” Michael responded sincerely.
The two hugged and began to laugh, their affections genuine.
It was like old times. Neither
had forgotten their days as Raiders together.
Knowing Michael’s worth as a Marine, Wellington was relieved to
have him there at his side once again. The
war was on. When they
reached their destination the Marines would land in a hot bed of killing
and death. Both Michael and
Wellington knew that this might be their last opportunity to enjoy
informal time together so they spent the next several hours catching up
on old times reminiscing about the war in the Pacific and friends
they’d lost. When they had
said all they had to say, Michael was dismissed to rejoin his unit and
prepare for Wosan. It
was October 26th, and Chesty Puller was waiting for A Company when it
finally arrived and disembarked at its destination, Wosan.
He welcomed his men in his usually to the point, gruff manner and
then dismissed them. Puller
wished them well and told them to go out and kill the enemy wherever
they found them. He then
immediately ordered Wellington’s company to Kojo, a small fishing
village flanked by white beaches and the sparkling blue waters of a bay.
It appeared tranquil with its quiet village and hanging fishing
nets blowing in the cool breeze. Its
inhabitants were tucked safely in their humble shelters.
In another time it would have made an excellent subject for a
painting. But this wasn’t
the time or the place for creating beauty.
This was war. Located
on the east coast, forty miles to the south, Kojo was an important
military supply depot where supplies for the Republic of Korea or On arriving at Kojo, Colonel Hawkins and Wellington were
assured by ROK officers that this was a tame assignment.
The After
a thorough survey of the landscape the Colonel ordered the CP to be
established on a large hill located fifteen hundred yards northwest of
the village. Wellington
deployed the H&S on the hillside to avoid concentrating the men in a
prime mortar target area. He
then located the battalion aid station on a piece of flat ground two
hundred yards east of the CP near the railroad station.
Later, the battalion cooks dug in near the aid station providing
added security. Knowing that
battalion communications were vital to survival, Wellington situated the
battalion switchboard in a secluded ravine near Hawkins’ foxhole.
This gave it maximum protection from incoming rounds.
Once incoming shelling stopped, access would be easy for Hawkins.
Concerned with a frontal attack Wellington took extra precautions
to ensure maximum CP protection. He
understood that in the heat of battle it would not be wise to have the
rifle companies committed on two fronts.
The Captain was forced to rely on his guard platoon. Reasoning
that the rifle companies would have their hands full when the NK hit
them in force, he placed Michael Aragón’s guard platoon in a
half-circle on the West Side of the CP.
This way the CP wouldn’t have to rely on the rifle companies
for defense. The CP was to
be held at all costs. Failure
was not acceptable. He
shared his concerns with the men. Wellington
told the CP platoon that they would hold their position to the last man.
They were expected to die before giving it up to the enemy. Companies
B, C, and D, with parts of the Weapons Company attached to each were
deployed at varying distances from the CP.
The younger men prodded by veterans of World War II had dug in
deep. Professional Marines
understood that foxholes were meant as cover.
Once deployment was completed the Marines were ready to turn in.
Hawkins was satisfied that his battalion was ready for the death
and suffering to come. At
dusk, Lieutenant Paul Vnenchak, the communications officer, reported
that his driver had been shot and killed by NKPA.
This meant that the The
following day brought more disturbing news.
As night fell, B Company was being fired on again.
Then all hell broke loose. Both
C and D companies began to report NK soldiers moving forward in mass.
The attack was on. The
TACP was doing its job. Their
concentrated air strikes had found their mark.
This command was fortunate. Its
officers and NCOs were seasoned veterans who knew how to respond and
react. The younger men
sensing the confidence of their commanders held the line.
Wave after wave of NKPA soldiers were stopped dead in their
tracks. But this success was
not to last. The American
perimeter was being compromised. In
the black moonless night the enemy had broken through and infiltrated
Marine lines. The Americans
fought hard sweeping the area for NK.
Several that were within grenade throwing distance were caught
and killed near the aid station. Then
a truck exploded at the motor pool.
The Marines were now fighting on the front lines and engaged in
hand-to-hand combat inside their own perimeter. The
main body of NK troops continued attacking what was left of the American
perimeter at will. They had
found several weak points and were exploiting them.
As the Marines fought on through the night more infiltrators were
killed within the perimeter. They
tried hard to control the ground and fought valiantly through the early
morning hours. Just before
daybreak, the determined NK got as far as twenty feet from the CP before
being stopped by Aragón’s men. The
night’s intense fighting left Michael and his squad dead tired.
The exhausted men could barely make out figures in the dawn’s
grayish light. Challenging
them after they hadn’t responded to the password, Michael and two
other Marines instinctively charged the NK soldiers.
Firing his weapon while attacking, he killed three with his first
burst of weapons fire. Still,
more NK moved forward firing on the Americans.
Aragón and his men dropped to the ground and belly crawled to
intercept the enemy soldiers. Once
close enough, the Marines opened fire on them.
At such close range they were able to kill two of the NK.
Several minutes passed as the Marines waited for another NK
charge. With no more shots
being fired Michael’s tense squad strained to hear any noise that
might give away the enemy positions.
Two of the frightened young marines crawled close to Michael.
As he thought back to his first firefight with the Japs, Michael
remembered how terrified he’d been.
He knew instinctively that fear would eventually erode the
confidence of these young men. Michael
reached out and patted each on the back.
Wellington had been there for him in the Pacific, he wanted to
return the favor here for these kids. When
enough time had passed Michael signaled his boys.
On the count of three they would charge the foxhole where five of
their Marine brothers now lay dead.
At the finish of the count the three men came up from the ground
and onto their feet. Michael
shouted, “Gung Ho” as he fired a volley of automatic weapons fire
into the foxhole ahead. As
the Americans reached the foxhole the NK were waiting and ready to
engage them in hand-to-hand combat.
With weapons ready the badly out numbered Marines rushed the
foxhole and were met by a volley of NK bullets.
The charging men lunged into the foxhole.
Fighting hand-to-hand against the battle hardened NK soldiers was
tough. They wouldn’t give
an inch. An
oncoming NK hit Michael squarely in the forehead with the butt of his
rifle. The force of the blow
dropped him to his knees. The
searing pain caused Michael to instinctively move his hands to his
forehead where he’d received the blow.
As he did, he glimpsed the NK’s bayonet being thrust at his
belly. He moved slightly to
the left as the NK drove his rifle forward.
The Korean missed his mark, planting the bayonet in the dirt.
Grabbing the rifle barrel in his hands, Michael used the oncoming
soldier’s momentum to pull him down to the ground beside him.
Within seconds, he buried his knife blade in the NK’s exposed
throat killing him instantly. Shaken,
Michael tried to stand but a second NK was on him.
Before he could get to his weapon the NK kicked him hard in the
left leg dropping him to the ground.
Now in great pain, Michael reached for a rifle that lay on the
ground next to him. He used
it as a club to hammer the oncoming NK soldier.
His first blow was a solid one to the face.
The second was to the neck. It
stunned the NK causing him to fall to Michael’s right.
Michael then unloaded the full ammo clip into him.
In the darkness of the early morning hours flames of the shots
could be seen as they escaped the rifle barrel killing the Korean. Beside
him fighting for their lives the other two Marines were engaging the
enemy. It was too close to
call the fight; they were all fighting savagely for their lives.
Groans and shouts could be heard everywhere at once.
Confusion filled the air. The
NK were experienced soldiers and the young Marines weren’t.
One of the boys, Levin, caught a bayonet in the stomach.
He managed to kill his NK attacker with a shot to the head and
then collapsed onto the mud of the foxhole in agony.
The disemboweled Levin lay bleeding and moaning in the mud as the
killing continued. The
second Marine, a farm boy from Iowa, faired just as poorly.
Before blowing off the top an attacking NK’s head, the boy took
a round to the chest. He
traded his life for that of the NK’s.
When it was over the three Marines had overcome ten NK regulars
killing them all. The farm
boy and Levin had proven themselves worthy of the name, Marine. The
Americans had proven themselves that day. But
something had gone terribly wrong. A
Marine on watch duty wasn’t awake when the NK probed the marine lines.
At daybreak, as the sun’s rays cast themselves on the
battlefield, B Company had been overrun.
An undetected enemy had broken through bayoneting many to death
as they slept. An entire
platoon had been wiped out while in their sleeping bags.
Many others were found dead or dying.
With the rising of the sun it was over.
The H&S had held. No
one really knew the enemy’s true strength.
Under intense interrogation the eighty-three NK prisoners
informed Intelligence that they were a part of the North Korean 5th
Division which had estimated troop strength of seven to eight thousand.
The prisoners had also provided information about the North
Korean 5th Division command post. It
was reported to be located a few miles south near the town of Ton chon.
Local civilians in the surrounding hills and towns were then
thoroughly questioned. They
reported estimated enemy troop strength of three thousand. Later,
HQ Intelligence sent word that Colonel Cho Il Kwon, the former director
of the Communist Party in Wosan, was the commander of the 5th.
A seasoned veteran, Kwon was an experienced officer, tactician,
and formidable opponent. Colonel
Hawkins then radioed his situation to Division and Corps.
The Battalion’s unproven and inexperienced Marines had not
performed well. The
situation was now critical. Puller
was facing an enemy of superior numbers, strength, and experience.
The enemy had received combat training in China against the
Japanese during World War II. They
were well-armed and equipped. Colonel
Cho Il Kwon’s forces were a worthy foe.
Chesty Puller received Hawkins’ radio dispatches at his
Division and Corps HQ. He
reviewed the severity of the situation and immediately ordered the 2nd
Battalion to Kojo. Unfortunately,
the 2nd couldn’t break through to Kojo until Kwon’s
calculated sacrifice of over a thousand soldiers had been worth it.
He now understood his adversary’s weaknesses.
After carefully watching the American responses of the day
before, Colonel Cho IL Kwon now counted on their inexperience.
The Americans had displayed a lack of discipline and courage.
His men would have never fallen asleep before a battle.
The Colonel’s intelligence had exposed an American force
composed primarily of young inexperienced soldiers.
Kwon preparing to exploit their weaknesses was willing to
sacrifice another thousand men to prepare the Americans psychologically
for defeat. Once properly
prepared, he planned to annihilate the entire enemy force. Wellington
was getting his Marines ready for the attack that he knew would come
that night. Word was passed
that the NKs would probably attack in full strength again that night.
Extra ammo and grenades were issued to the men.
Hawkins’ rifle companies were also preparing for the worst.
Michael and the others spent the morning digging foxholes around
the CP. They dug deep and
wide, the result was more a cupped trench than a hole.
The marines needed better maneuverability.
Filling as many sandbags as possible they stacked them three to
four high around their holes. This
time they would be ready to receive their guests. In
the late afternoon, Wellington walked the perimeter to gauge command
readiness. His men were up
to the challenge. Several
were cleaning their weapons and stacking ammo so it would be at the
ready. Others were filling
sandbags and stacking them even higher around their foxholes.
NCOs were walking between rifle companies pacing off the field of
fire and reviewing triangulation. This
time they would leave nothing to chance.
The Marines would catch the enemy in a planned, coordinated
crossfire. The killing field
was being prepared. The NCOs
ordered barbed wire to be strung with tin cans hanging by thin wires.
This would alert the Americans to belly crawling sapper’s
intent on infiltration. Knowing
the NK sappers would probe for weaknesses this time a break in the
perimeter was planned for. The
Marines would invite the NK into a wedged trap of fire hoping to
concentrate the first wave into the killing field early.
Hawkins and his officers estimated that the field of fire would
accommodate at least five hundred of the enemy.
Land mines were set along the edges of the trap to drive the NK
into the center once they broke through the line.
In this way the first attack could be blunted.
Once the NK were stopped, the Marines would close the perimeter
and cut-off any trapped enemy. Americans
were viewed by the NK as big, lazy, spoiled, and foolish.
Fortunately for the Americans their NCOs were veterans of
Japanese attacks and understood the Asian mind well.
Their enemy’s beliefs had been proven correct during the early
weeks of the war. This had
also been proven the night before. And
these battle hardened NCOs knew the Korean enemy could only be beaten if
their will was broken. They
understood that the tide would turn once the confident NK had been
decisively blunted and broken through superior battlefield tactics.
But they also understood that it would take a series of crushing
blows. When
Wellington returned to the CP he was looking for Michael.
When he found him, the Captain offered Michael a cigarette.
Then the two made small talk about past memories.
They smoked a couple of cigarettes and laughed about their good
times together in Hawaii. Then
the conversation suddenly turned serious.
Wellington shared with Michael that his wife had died of cancer
only three months before. He
spoke fondly of his twin sons and of his dead wife.
Then he spoke of their days together and how happy she’d made
him. Wellington was shaken
by what he had just said. He
remained silent for a moment and then told Michael that he and his wife
had no other family between them except for the children.
It was at that point that Wellington turned to Michael.
Looking him straight in the eyes, Wellington then asked if he
would be the legal guardian for his sons if anything happened to him.
He explained to Michael that his last will and testament had been
drafted the previous night naming him executor.
Wellington hoped that Michael would say yes.
He shared with Michael his respect and admiration for him.
In the event of his death he knew Michael would care for his
sons. The whole thing left
Michael both shocked and honored. In
the end, Michael agreed to do it. Uncomfortable,
the men shook hands and said little else.
To Michael’s relief Wellington was then summoned by Hawkins and
left to report. As
Wellington walked to meet Hawkins he saw helmets on every head.
The men were dug in deep and wide, ready for the night’s
festivities. They understood
that trouble could come at any time.
Each was ready to do his duty.
The preparations of the day had gone well.
Knowing that silence could be their enemy, the young marines
chatted quietly as they checked and rechecked their weapons and ammo
stocks. The talk was
superficial, the laughter forced. Some
stacked and then restacked sand bags.
Each hoped the bags would catch that one stray bullet with their
name on it. Then
as night fell the NCOs walked the line smoking cigarettes with the
younger men. Each assured
his men that they would make the grade.
The older, tougher NCOs alternated between teasing and barking
orders. They too had the
“before-battle” jitters. Fear
and dread came and went as they walked confidently among their young
pups. Marine veterans had
seen it all, the killing and the maiming.
To their merit none gave way to it.
Too much was at stake. If
they broke, their men would falter.
No, they were Marines first and men second.
And Marines knew no fear. The
CP was alive with the issuing of orders and confirming of manpower
strength in strategic locations. Wellington’s
communications lines were checked and rechecked.
Reserve ammo caches were counted and recounted.
Ammo runners were briefed on signals for moving their precious
cargo up and down the line when needed.
The aid station was preparing for the estimated first wave of
casualties. The number was
set at twenty percent of Hawkins’ command.
Medics and nurses were ready for the riot to come.
Their mettle had been tested the night before.
Yesterday’s casualties had been flown to Pusan earlier in the
day. Plasma stocks were
counted and linen stacked. Cots
and gurneys were ready. Emergency
generators were checked for fuel. The
last preparation was the Lord’s Prayer. But
it had already been muttered. Intelligence
had sent tactical briefing books on Kwon that day.
Wellington read the briefing papers twice.
He believed that for once Intelligence was right.
The HQ had estimated that Colonel Cho Il Kwon would commit at
least fifty percent of his command in the first assault attempting to
break through the Marine lines and cutting their command in half.
His divide and conquer strategies were well known.
Puller believed that Kwon would follow with a two or three
pronged attack isolating the weaker half of the American command.
Once isolated, he would move in for the kill.
Finally, Kwon would surround the stronger units and attempt to
cut them up piece-by-piece. As
night fell, Hawkins’ one and only hope was that reinforcements would
arrive before his command was completely decimated by a superior force.
In his heart of hearts Hawkins knew his men couldn’t hold if
the trap didn’t blunt the first NK charge.
The confidence of the seasoned NK had to be broken.
If not, the smell of American fear and blood would drive them
over the line and through the Marine positions.
As he went over his troop placement and reserves Hawkins
despaired. He had only
enough of a force to hold back two, maybe three, assaults.
If everything worked as planned his men might hold out until
reinforcements arrived. If
not, his command would be shattered and their honor lost.
His name would be relegated to that part of Marine Corps history
that no one talks about. Success
has a thousand fathers. Failure
is a bastard. Though
the moonless night was pitch black, the Marines could feel the NK
inching toward them. There
was fear among the young men. They’d
only been tested once in battle the day before.
None dared wonder if they could hold the line.
They had to hold the line. Each
promised his brother Marine his life.
None would dishonor the Corps.
The NCOs did their best to reassure the younger men as they
worked the line patting backs and giving out cigarettes.
Fear and pain was not part of the Marine lexicon.
These veterans understood what Hawkins was thinking.
Having lived battle after battle, they knew both their strengths
and weaknesses. Victory was
often a matter of superior fire power and position. But
war was never sure or certain. In
the final analysis it was the man on the line and his will to prevail
that would make the difference. These
men were United States Marines the best of the best.
Each would do his duty to the Corps or die trying. It
was 10:22 that night when the first NK’s hit the wire.
When they hit their positions were given away by the clanking of
the tin cans swaying back and forth and banging against each other. They
had begun probing a half-hour earlier.
The tin cans confirmed exactly where they were.
The Marines had been given specific orders not to fire until the
flares ignited in the air above the perimeter.
The noises were faint but were a dead giveaway. The
NK had made it past the cut lines. Belly
crawling toward the Marine positions the NK stopped, massing fifty yards
from the closest line of American foxholes.
They were packed closely together.
Their bodies touched as they huddled awaiting the signal to
attack. As their numbers
swelled to several hundred, the Marines waited anxiously to empty their
ammo clips and toss grenades into the oncoming yellow horde. A
tense Hawkins accompanied by his officers walked over to Communications
at the ravine near his foxhole. Receiving
confirmation from the line that the NK were massed along it, units were
advised that flares would be above their heads in one minute.
Unless attacked, fire would be held until then.
Then Hawkins waited. With
their helmets pulled down as close to their eyes as possible all along
the line the men prepared for the assault.
Last minute weapons checks were occurring up and down the line.
Extra magazines were placed close by.
Sweaty palms held weapons at the ready.
Drops of sweat ran down their trigger fingers.
Sandbags were again being readjusted as the men anticipated heavy
fire. Then it happened.
Lighting up the skies, the flares went off on the dot.
As the Marines saw their enemy they began pouring every bit of
firepower they had into a solid wall of oncoming NK soldiers. Hawkins
was cool and calm as he barked orders to CP personnel.
Michael stood by Wellington in the CP viewing the battle through
field glasses. The CP was an
excellent vantage point on the large hill.
It allowed for maximum viewing of the enemy line then under heavy
fire. They watched as the
once confident NK fell into the trap set by the Americans.
NK were being blown to bits as they rushed toward the landmine
edged trap. Then NK
artillery began to ring out placing Marine lines under heavy incoming
fire. The incoming rounds
began raining down on all several areas along the line.
Next, came the mortar shells landing close to the CP.
The men went for cover. On
the line, Marines began to toss grenades as the heavy concentration of
NK rushed toward them. American
mortars began doing their job and devastating the oncoming NK.
What the mortars didn’t do the automatic weapons and machine
gun fire did. It cut the
enemy force to ribbons. But
still they came. Wellington
was now estimating that at least six hundred were caught in the trap.
Within minutes of the flares being launched half were dead or
dying. Before
leaving the CP for Communications at the ravine, a confident Hawkins
gave the order to close the opening in the line.
His men moved forward in a scissor action attacking the NK from
both flanks. As the hole in
the line closed, NK forces rallied.
Countering the American attempt to close the trap door, Kwon sent
in a second wave of five hundred more.
Wellington watched intently through his field glasses and counted
a third wave of at least two thousand NK closing on the exposed
perimeter. Kwon had seen the
trap and was attempting to keep the Marine lines under stress.
Throwing everything he had at the Marines, he hoped to keep that
line from closing. By this
bold move Kwon was committing his honor to the fight.
From the communications area Hawkins now deployed badly needed
air support. The NK
positions, troop descriptions and concentrations along the lines were
passed on. The time to
strike was now. Call signs
and frequencies were specified and it was a go.
The requested aircraft were in the skies above, concentrating
fire on the identified targets along the front lines.
Hawkins’ TACP officer was directing the heavy firepower with
precision coordination for maximum effect.
The NK were being pounded out of existence.
The Americans were winning. Then
it happened. A lucky
incoming NK round took out the TACP.
A second explosion knocked Wellington and Michael to the ground.
The CP had taken a direct hit.
Wellington had done well to deploy the H&S on the hillside.
It had avoided making the place a prime mortar target area.
But even he couldn’t have anticipated a lucky incoming shell.
The NK artillery emplacement was taken out soon after it had
lobbed that one lucky round into the CP. But
it was too late. The damage
was done. Kwon moved
instinctively to commit another two thousand NK.
Moving along the ridge toward the crippled CP, he intended to
assault it before it could recover. The
unsupported American aircraft broke off.
Returning to base they couldn’t risk hitting American
positions. Without TACP
coordination they were useless. Hawkins
was now on his own and forced to redeploy part of C Company to counter
the NK troop movements along the ridge below the CP.
The Marines had established a line five hundred yards from the NK.
From that position they began to rain down mortar fire on the
NK’s attempting to come up the ridge.
After a half-hour of steady fire, the Marines were successful.
The NK assault on the CP was smashed. But
Hawkins problems had only just begun.
NK had broken through along the lines and were now threatening
the battalion aid station near the railroad.
Hawkins was now forced to deploy part of the already undermanned
B Company to support the aid station.
There the ground was flat and the entire area was exposed for
some two hundred yards east of the CP.
Kwon was now attempting to assault the CP from two points along
the ridge and from the aid station.
Michael’s platoon was holding down any NK that moved against
the CP. Only A Company was
left to defend the CP from a frontal assault. By
this time the battle had raged for an hour and a half.
Hawkins’ men were close to finished unless reinforcements
arrived soon. Just in time
the 2nd Battalion arrived, assaulting Kwon’s rear.
The NK were now facing a reinforced Marine battalion.
Having lost twenty-five hundred men Kwon was feeling the heat.
He was faced with the possibility of defeat so he decided to go
all out. Countering the
2nd’s advance, Kwon committed his reserves, the last fifteen hundred
soldiers left in his command. The
2nd was now under severe stress and its Marines began falling back.
The NK were meeting the American challenge.
As the 2nd’s line broke, the NK began pouring through.
For the first time during the battle Hawkins’ command was no
longer able to hold its line. Without
support from the 2nd, he had to order A Company to fall back and try to
reestablish a perimeter five hundred yards from the CP.
Then he ordered B and C companies to withdraw back to areas on
either side of A Company. Meanwhile,
the NK had broken through along the ridge and were working their way
toward the battalion switchboard. They’d
gotten as far as the ravine. Hawkins
was now forced to take cover in his foxhole to seek protection from the
relentless incoming NK shelling. With
the 2nd Battalion unable to come to his aid the command was in a fight
for its life. Everywhere the
Marines were under siege. With
Hawkins pinned down Wellington assumed command of the supply unit that
was near the railroad. He
secured the supply unit and took two squads to relieve trapped Marines
approximately one hundred yards north at the aid station.
At the same time, the 2nd was in a massive firefight of their
own. Kwon was determined to
destroy them. Within two
hours of their assault, the 2nd had lost over one hundred Marines and
scores were wounded. It was
now five in the morning. But
daylight hadn’t yet broken through.
The CP was under heavy attack from more NK who had broken through
along the ridge. Heavy
incoming NK shelling was also taking its toll.
Wellington could see his Marines holding on for dear life. As
the light finally began to break through the darkened cloudy skies the
enemy could be seen more clearly. Michael
and the other Marines were killing as many NK as would engage them.
The fighting inside the CP perimeter was now hand-to-hand.
Young inexperienced Marines were fairing well against their more
seasoned foe. It was then
that Captain Peter Wellington was about to make a decisive move.
He had been successful in blunting the NK attack on the aid
station. Taking four squads
to relieve Hawkins, they attacked the NK emplacements from behind,
killing many of the NK where they stood.
The totally surprised NK broke off their attack on Hawkins’
position. They were
slaughtered as they retreated to their own jagged line. Hawkins
once again in command of his forces ordered Wellington to sweep the
railroad and then proceed to reinforce the CP, which was now under
attack. Wellington then
ordered mortar fire to be directed at the area in front of the railroad
catching the NK on open ground. The
mortar shells found their mark. The
tide of battle was back on the side of the Americans. The
bright sun was now shining overhead.
It was seven in the morning and the dead lay everywhere.
Hawkins moved to the ravine and the Communications area and
directed traffic. A, B, and
C companies were holding the new line against an NK force which was now
under duress. The cooks had
held but his CP was still under attack.
All three new lines were holding although his Marines were
exhausted. C Company began
redirecting mortar fire from the railroad to the CP perimeter.
The enemy was getting it from two sides.
As Wellington’s squads closed in on the NK, Michael’s men
were barley able to hold their own.
Finally, the mortar rounds found their mark.
The NK began breaking off as Wellington swept the railroad.
Within five minutes there were no more NK.
The Captain was now determined not to lose the Command Post.
Taking two additional squads of Marines Wellington’s six squads
advanced on the CP. He made
it just in time. Michael and
the few remaining Marines had nothing left.
Out of ammo and exhausted the Captain had to save the day.
And he did. The
NK put up a good fight, but surprised by Wellington’s assault they had
panicked. As his men broke
through the confused enemy forces it became hand-to-hand.
The killing at close quarters lasted for ten minutes leaving
twenty-five NK dead and dying. The
Marines had lost five. As
the Captain’s men made it to the CP he surveyed the damage. The
Marines had killed over two hundred NK regulars around the CP.
Putting his men to the task of re-establishing communications,
within minutes, Wellington reclaimed the CP and surrounding areas.
He had rallied his men against impossible odds and prevailed;
this had been his finest moment. He’d
earned his stripes as a leader that night. Kwon
was now desperate. His
losses had been heavy. While
the Captain was restoring his CP, an angry Colonel Kwon decided to make
one last desperate push to capture it.
Redirecting all of his artillery toward the CP, Kwon was intent
on breaking American morale. He
ordered all of his forces to concentrate on the CP. Kwon
was gambling everything. As
a smiling, jubilant Captain Peter Wellington turned toward Michael an
incoming NK round hit the CP. The
massive explosion rocked the tent bringing the world around them to a
halt. Smoke and dust filled
the tent as shouts and cries of wounded men could be heard everywhere.
The Captain was hit and so was Michael. Michael
dragged himself across the CP making his way to Wellington.
But before Michael could reach his wounded captain several NK
made their way into the CP bayoneting the wounded, including Wellington.
Two badly wounded Marines were able to return fire, eliminating
the attackers. By
the time Michael finally dragged himself to the Captain, his friend lay
bleeding from a gaping shrapnel wound in his chest and several stab
wounds from bayonets. Michael
checked Wellington’s pulse. He
found none. Peter Wellington
was gone. The vacant look in
his eyes said it all. Michael
Aragón said his last goodbye as he gently stroked Wellington’s hair.
He then closed the Captain’s eyes forever.
Realizing that his right hand was bloody, Michael looked down to
find his fatigues crimson. The
blood loss was great. It was
at that moment that he knew he had bought it. Michael
had sustained massive injuries and went into shock as he lay next to
Wellington. He
collapsed next to his captain on the dirt floor.
His life was pouring out of his body.
The Angel of Death hovered nearby. The Marines had held and defeated the best the North Koreans had. Kwon was beaten and Hawkins a hero. Elements of Chesty Puller’s command had been decimated but he had held. Puller made sure that Captain Peter Wellington was buried with honors. Many other Marines received medals and citations for those selfless acts of courage. They’d all fought bravely and many had given their lives for their country. The Corps would never forget that little fishing village.
04/23/2015 08:42 AM |