Recollections of Korea continued from page one

In accordance with divisional policy, Colonel Campbell ordered the barbed wire thickened. He wanted the protective minefield examined by the engineers to ensure it was properly fenced and signed so our troops wouldn’t wander into it.

I was given the task of providing security for the engineer work party and was augmented by a sergeant from No 8 Platoon and nine soldiers from “A” Company. I also detailed a corporal and nine men from my own platoon.

I briefed the engineer work party and my men on the procedures to be followed. I said we would deploy this protective force with two sections protecting the workers. One section was 25 feet in front. As the work progressed, I would leap-frog the rear section 25 feet past the forward one, it becoming the forward section. A small Headquarters Group consisting of myself, a signaller and a runner would take up a position between the sections. In this manner, we would cover the engineers until they had finished their job.

When it became dark we went into the valley. I had not impressed on my troops the requirement for stealth during this procedure. I guess I had concluded, in my own mind, that this would be self-evident. Things went well until it was time to move the first section commanded by the Sergeant.

I motioned to my runner to move closer to me. Then I ordered him to tell the sergeant to move his section. He noiselessly disappeared into the darkness. Shortly, I heard a loud voice shout: “OK, on your feet, come on, let’s go”. The command was followed by the sound of thundering feet, then the command “down”.

By this time my runner had returned but he had to make another trip, telling the Sergeant, “Next time slowly and quietly”.

Almost immediately mortar rounds from the Chinese hills started falling on a feature some several hundred yards to the right of us. I heard a voice from my nearest section saying “They’re shelling us; why doesn’t he move us? He’s leaving us here to die”.

Another trip for the runner to ensure silence. There were no further glitches and the task was completed, but it was a good lesson for me to ensure every detail in a briefing was covered and all were well aware of their responsibilities. After this incident, the Sergeant admitted that this was the first time he had ever had to do such a job, and I had to admit that this was my first time also. He proved to be an excellent NCO who did a first class job for the rest of the tour.

One morning, just after I had retired for the day, Sergeant Stone rushed into the bunker where I was getting some sleep. He shouted: “Mr. Hollyer, you have to see this, there is smoke everywhere”.

He was right; there was smoke provided by our artillery in front of the Platoon, on both sides of the Platoon, to the rear of the platoon and even all over the platoon. It was obvious that the smoke rounds were being fired by our own guns.

I got onto the phone to report this phenomenon and was told “We know and it is being corrected.”

After, I learned what had happened. A Canadian patrol, from another battalion, had become lost during the night and was now making its way back to our lines. As it was now daylight, the patrol leader had asked for smoke to cover the return.

At the gun position there are three different firing tables: one for charges when firing normal high explosives, one for incremental charges when the normal charges are not right for the job, and one for smoke. The officer in charge of the four gun troop used the wrong book for the charges, producing weird results.

Seven Platoon members saw very little of the enemy during this period of shelling, but every night 8 Platoon reported Chinese patrols in the vicinity of the barbed wire protecting the approaches to their platoon. As we had not discovered any such activity it was the opinion of most members of 7 Platoon that 8 Platoon was just jumpy. It was the deduction of higher headquarters that the amount of hostile shelling and probing pointed to an attack in the near future, but we, at the sharp end, did not know this nor were we told.

All patrols exiting the right flank of the Battalion had to go through our piece of real estate as we owned the gap in the minefield in front of “C” Company. The gap consisted of a path, fenced on both sides and free of mines.  It wound from our platoon position down into the valley, “no-man’s land”.

The path was narrow. It was obvious the enemy knew when our patrols entered the gap because almost invariably they were shelled. The source of information became apparent after a few days, as one of my riflemen sighted two camouflaged Chinese in a lay-up position in the wire just outside the gap.

There appeared no way we could get through the gap, unobserved, to take the two Chinese prisoners. I informed my Company Commander of this and requested permission to fire on them, but was told to wait and he would get back to me.

Later I was informed that a member of the sniper platoon would be up with a “sniper-scope”. A sniper-scope was the name given to a rifle used in the sniper platoon fitted with an infra-red sight that allowed the user to see objects in the dark.

We kept the area under observation, but by the time the member of the sniper platoon arrived only one enemy observer could be seen. He was dispatched with a single round. Later that evening, a message, relayed from Higher Headquarters, advised that the Chinese might attempt to recover the body and if they did we were not to fire on the rescue party.

Apparently a broadcast from the Chinese requesting permission to retrieve the body had been intercepted. That night we kept a close eye out for a rescue party, saw and heard nothing, but in the morning the body was gone. The shelling of exiting patrols through the gap ceased.

Enemy patrols, increasingly, were treating “No Man’s Land” as though it were their property, an impression that all Commonwealth Commanders resolved to correct by increasing the number of their own patrols. With the increase in patrols and the continued heavy shelling additional strain was placed on the Canadian soldier.

Because of the language problem , it was decided by our Company Commander that Katcoms should not accompany us on patrols. After the following incident, I decided that Katcoms should never be left alone in their fire positions or stand sentry duty by themselves. As was my policy, I toured the position every hour during darkness to ensure work was being carried out and my soldiers were alert. On my rounds I visited each slit trench and had a brief discussion with the soldiers on duty.

Arriving at the first section and the first fire position, I encountered two Katcom soldiers. I greeted them and they returned big smiles. Why I don’t know, but I said to them “Do you like being with the RCR”?

One chap replied, “Yes”.
I was most surprised and asked, “Do you speak any English”?
“Yes”.
“Has there been any movement in the valley tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think it was the Chinese?”
“Yes.”

Finally I asked a question that required a different kind of answer but was again given a big smile and the now familiar, “Yes”

This was an early indication of the language problems we were to encounter with our Korean soldiers. Because of language, the number of men available for duty was reduced and a greater responsibility was placed on our Canadian soldiers. They resented this and began to question why we had the Korean soldiers with us.

We had another problem with Korean soldiers. It was obvious that they were not happy and they started slacking off in their tasks. The Platoon Sergeant complained to me about their efforts and advised that he could not understand why they were being so uncooperative. I discussed this with my Company Commander and he decided to get an interpreter from the rear to interview them.

The Korean interpreter, a really first class person who, it was obvious, really wanted to help, assembled my Katcoms in a bunker and listened to their complaints. He received the usual ones, too much work, not enough rest, wanted leave to go home to their families.

The main complaint was food, which they described as being “chop chop number ten”. The Koreans, with us foreigners, put a number on just about everything they were describing, number one being the best and number ten the worst. I knew the “combat rations” we were receiving didn’t compare with the finest restaurants, but they certainly were not number ten. “Chop chop” was their word for food.

The interpreter volunteered that perhaps it was the way the food was being prepared. I told him I would look into this matter and thanked him for his help. He said that he would be glad to return any time if he could be of help.

Soon after arriving at the position, I had arranged for my Koreans to eat together in one of the bunkers. I thought this would be better for them than dining with their Canadian buddies with whom they spent so much of their time, because of the employment restrictions I had placed on them. I told Sergeant Stone to attend their next meal and let me know what was going on. He reported back to me, laughingly saying “You won’t believe this, but they are distributing the “C” Rations by the packets.”

Each carton of the “C” Ration contained a number of packages, one for cans making up the main portion of the menu, another the dessert, another such things as hydrated potatoes, powdered milk, sugar, etc. Another consisted of amenities such as candies “Charms”, cigarettes and toilet paper. Imagine the consternation felt by the person receiving the package containing no food, but a good supply of toilet paper.

I assigned a Canadian soldier to teach them about the contents of the ration pack and how to prepare and cook the food. It wasn’t long before we, once again, had a happy contingent of Korean soldiers who willingly were carrying out their assigned duties.

Because we were always short of junior NCOs, I instructed Sgt Stone to keep an eye out for prospective candidates. During the intensive training period, while we were still in reserve, I became greatly impressed by one of our soldiers. He was a veteran from WW II who had been in the artillery; he performed well and displayed good organizational capabilities.

About two weeks after I had had my talk with my Sergeant, he told me that he had been giving this soldier certain responsibilities and he was sure that he would be a good Section Commander. This confirmed my observations and this soldier was promoted to Acting Corporal.

He took over his section and performed very well. After entering the line he was the first NCO to have his section organized complete with range cards and designated arcs of fire for all his section. I was indeed impressed.

Range cards were made out for each fire position. These indicated certain distinguishing points on the ground with the ranges to them which would be an aid in setting the range on your weapon. The arc of fire gave the area of responsibility for each weapon with each side of the arc crossing over the sides of the arcs of the person to left and right. This produced what was known as “interlocking fire”.

Soon after the daily shelling started I was informed by another NCO that this Corporal would not leave his bunker and his section was without a commander. I checked his bunker and found my protégé slumped in a corner. I ordered him to go out to his section, but he broke down and said, “I can’t”. I informed my Company Commander who told me to have him escorted back to Battalion Headquarters. Later the Medical Officer informed me that during WW II this NCO had been exposed to heavy shelling for a prolonged period and apparently had been evacuated then.

I handed over command of his section to a soldier and told him if he did a good job he would be made a Lance Corporal. This soldier later distinguished himself and was awarded the Military Medal.

Our water supply came from the stream that flowed into the valley between “C” and “B” Company. It was collected in five gallon cans called Jerry Cans and placed on a shelf cut out of the hill immediately outside my Command Post. Here it was treated with tablets and arranged so that the purified water was at the left end of six Jerry Cans. As each can was emptied it would be replaced with a can placed at the right end of the row and treated. As all were familiar with the process, it was a simple system that worked. Empty cans were refilled every evening after dark.

One of the dread diseases in Korea was Hemorrhagic Fever spread by mites whose hosts were rats and mice. As rodents were prolific in the bunkers, it was necessary to protect oneself by treating clothing at the arm and leg cuffs and around the neck with a foul-smelling oily substance distributed through the supply system.

Shortly after occupying the position, we were visited by the Company 2 i/c. He is usually the next senior officer to the Company Commander and he works in the rear area unless he is required to take over from the Company Commander. Out of the line, he performs the function of supply and administrative officer for the Company.

We were having a cup of coffee and he was telling me that he had brought me two cans of the liquid for treating the platoon clothing. Suddenly, a soldier burst in saying that three of the platoon were violently ill. We went outside and discovered that the 2 i/c had placed the two cans at the end of the line of our drinking water and the soldiers had drank some of it. They were evacuated, but returned a few hours later.

It seemed that we were experiencing casualties every day and I became quite adept with the morphine ampoules. When a person was given morphine in the field the person administering it dipped his finger in the blood and marked an “M” on the wounded man’s forehead. That told the medical personnel that morphine had been administered.

Continued Page three

 

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