B004V9FYIY EBOK

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B004V9FYIY EBOK Page 55

by Unknown


  These individuals returned to their seats after applause and more were called up for the Navy Commendation Medal. Six different levels of awards were presented and all the recipients were awarded except for one.

  “Staff Sergeant Dale Ricks, come forward.”

  “Ricks was dressed in an immaculate uniform and a couple of other medals were on his chest that he received earlier. He rolled himself up the incline to the dais. The President stood and walked over to stand beside him.

  Black read the citation as an aide came up with a flat award box. “Attention to orders!”

  The entire crew stood.

  “For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty: Staff Sergeant Dale C. Ricks distinguished himself by acts of gallantry and intrepidity in action against an armed enemy near Daegu, South Korea on August 6th. On that day, Sergeant Ricks was engaged in a raid against North Korean forces behind enemy lines that were preparing to invade that city. He and his men engaged enemy forces far superior in number and equipment. Realizing the urgency of his task, Sergeant Ricks quickly organized a hasty offense consisting of two platoons of soldiers, using hand delivered demolitions explosives, dynamite, and Molotov cocktails he had devised. As the fight developed, Sergeant Ricks delivered these munitions, then braved hostile enemy fire to personally engage the enemy with hand grenades and rifle fire. When additional opportunities presented themselves to inflict further damage, he personally returned to the heart of the enemy encampment to destroy additional equipment untouched by his first attack. He organized the evacuation of several wounded soldiers from the battle. Fearing the enemy would overrun their defenses and capture troops under his care, Sergeant Ricks moved under withering enemy fire to extract an additional soldier from harm. In total disregard for his own life, he maintained his exposed position in order to engage the attacking enemy force. During this action, he was wounded. His courageous actions helped delay the enemy attack on Daegu, and resulted in as many as 250 enemy soldiers killed, and the loss of ten tanks, five rocket launchers, and numerous trucks of ammunition, fuel and supplies, while allowing the safe withdrawal of numerous wounded soldiers. Sergeant Ricks displayed extraordinary heroism and uncommon valor above and beyond the call of duty. His actions are in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service and reflect great credit upon himself, the Third Infantry Division, and the United States Army.”

  The box was opened and everyone saw the blue ribbon with the gold star shaped medal attached at one end. The President picked up the circular ribbon and held it for all to see. “It is rare that a President has the opportunity to make a presentation of this award. It gives me great pride to present the Medal of Honor to Staff Sergeant Dale Ricks. On behalf of a grateful nation, I thank you for your service above and beyond the call of duty,” he said as he placed the award over Ricks’ head.

  Ricks had not been told what he would receive. He imagined it was just another award, but the President placed the ribbon around his neck and stood to salute him. The look of shock on his face was heartwarming to the President.

  “Hand salute!” came the order as all the men on the fantail saluted the man. “Ready two.”

  “Congratulations, Sergeant. I am very proud of you. If you ever need anything, you may call upon me or my people,” the President said warmly while shaking his hand.

  “Thank you, sir,” Ricks stammered out. He glanced over at his parents and Su Lynn. She was clinging to Hufham’s arm, her eyes full of tears. Even his mom was crying. His father stood stunned. He didn’t even hear the applause everyone was giving him. Ricks waved at them meekly and made his way back down the ramp. People thought it was all over.

  General Black came to the microphone again. There was almost a grin on his face. “Rear Admiral Roger T. Hammond, come forward.”

  Hammond had a questioning look on his face. He too had not been told of any award. He looked around at the men on the dais. None showed any emotion. Hesitantly he walked forward. Everyone was still standing.

  “For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty as Commanding Officer of USS Iowa in action against major units of the enemy during an engagement off Wonsan on September 25th, Rear Admiral Hammond gallantly interposed his ship between enemy missiles and the nuclear aircraft carrier under his protection. Seeing the possible loss of a major Navy asset and the potential loss of over 6,000 of its crew, Hammond ordered USS Iowa steered directly in front of five oncoming surface to surface missiles, shooting down two with his guns while absorbing three enemy missile hits. Undaunted by damage sustained under this terrific fire, he unhesitatingly engaged the hostile missile batteries with his damaged ship, ravaging them with gunfire and destroying both missile batteries before they could reengage the carrier or other ships in the task force. Rear Admiral Hammond, by his indomitable courage and brilliant professional skill, foiled the aims of the enemy during a critical phase of the war. His valiant fighting spirit throughout this historic engagement will venture as an inspiration to all who serve with him. His extraordinary heroism and conduct in this action were in keeping with the highest traditions of the U.S. Naval Service.”

  The same kind of box was presented and the President took the medal out. Hammond’s eyes were wide as he saw the highest award the nation could bestow lifted and placed over his head. The President straightened the ribbon and stood back.

  “Hand salute!”

  Once again, everyone saluted. “Ready two.”

  Everyone aboard cheered and Hammond looked at the President.

  “I told you we were proud of you,” he said. “Just remember, you did all of this.” He stood back and turned Hammond toward the crowd. The crewmen were cheering madly. It was as if they themselves had received the award. He stood for a moment stunned by what had just happened. Then he regained his composure. Holding up his hand.

  “I thank you for this, but it really doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to every member of this crew. I promise, I’ll never let you down,” he said.

  The applause and cheering returned anew and Hammond returned to his seat. The President came to the podium and held up his hand. “I said before it was rare that the Medal of Honor is presented. The people here have been witness to two such events. The Medal of Honor is not presented lightly. It is only presented as a result of unique acts of bravery above and beyond the call of duty. Those of you aboard Iowa have seen these acts first hand. Some of our Army representatives have seen it in Sergeant Ricks during battle. Let us never forget what they have done or the circumstances they overcame. Our nation is proud of these men and all of you who serve every day in our armed forces. Thank you for allowing me to be with you and share this moment.”

  The ceremony ended and the two recipients joined the senior officers in the President’s cabin after receiving congratulations from the crew and guests.

  Hammond entered the cabin to see Ricks talking to the President.

  “That’s okay, sir. I’m just wanting to learn how to walk before the baby gets here,” Ricks said.

  “What about after? What are your plans?”

  “Well, sir, I don’t know. I doubt the Army will want a cripple,” Ricks said. The President could tell the simple thought hurt the man.

  “I doubt that. Plenty of people have lost limbs and continued service. Take a look at that Navy Diver named Brashear they made the movie about.”

  “Yes, sir, but he lost only one leg.”

  The President placed his hand on Ricks’ shoulder. “Just get back on your feet. I’ll worry about your length of service. If you want it, stay in,” the President said.

  Ricks’ face brightened considerably. “Thank you, Mister President. I appreciate that.”

  Across the room Hammond and the CNO were talking. “Actually, the important stops are in Hong Kong, Karachi, Muscat, Alexandria, and then St. Petersburg. The Chinese were playing their games during this thing. The rest
you can imagine. The President would like to let them see what we have the capability of doing,” Johnson said.

  “But we are decommissioning these ships,” said Hammond.

  “True, but the way we’re going to do this will mean we can still bring them back. The President wants to lay them up with their systems still active. We’ll take off some of the classified electronics, but the rest will stay. The engineering spaces will remain usable. Iowa, for example, will be lit off periodically and the systems run for a day or two just to make sure things are working properly. At the same time we will allow the ships to act as emergency facilities for electrical power and berthing. That way we keep them in a minimal status. Since they are only 600 psi plants, that’s easier to do. The rest of the ships will be scrapped,” said Johnson.

  “Which ones?”

  “The DDs and the Adams Class DDGs. The Greeks and the others don’t really want them back.”

  Hammond thought a moment. “You think the boss might be interested in a home for these ships?”

  “Maybe. What do you have in mind?”

  “Maybe we could get the museums caring for the battleships to take most of them. A straight donation might help them out and help us get rid of them. I’d hate for these old destroyers to go to the scrap heap.”

  “Not a bad idea. I’ll broach it. I don’t particularly want to scrap them either – especially the old Fletchers. I bet some of the veterans associations would love to meet on them,” said Johnson.

  The President walked over. “I see you guys cooking up something. Anything I should know?”

  “Only that senior flag officers hate being blind-sided, sir,” said Hammond.

  All three men laughed. “Roger, I did it because I didn’t need you telling me to give it all to the crew. The effect of your actions was electric. There are kids in college talking about what you did. That should keep the recruiters going for at least a year. Tomorrow I am going aboard the North Carolina and pin the Navy Cross on Chris Hustvedt for his brilliant action. You both did an outstanding job, but if it wasn’t for you, I might be an aircraft carrier short. So take the medal and shut up.”

  The CNO slapped Hammond on the shoulder.

  “Since you are going on this last cruise, be thinking about what you would like to do once you get home. We’ve been doing some housecleaning and there are some jobs available. Let’s keep talking and work it all out,” Johnson said.

  “Ok. I can’t really complain. At least I was able to keep my ship. I hate to lose her.”

  “We figured you would feel that way,” said O’Bannon. “There’s nothing in stone that you have to leave once you get a star, so we just added to your responsibilities. I think Perry has someone to help you out.”

  “There’s a Commander Lawson and a couple other guys coming aboard in Seoul who will help keep the division stuff in line. He’s a good guy with a lot of savvy. If he doesn’t work out, let me know and I’ll send him elsewhere,” said Johnson.

  “That helps. I’m actually looking forward to this little cruise.”

  “Thought so. Just enjoy yourself. You and your guys deserve it,” said Johnson.

  “Too bad you aren’t riding for a part of it, Boss,” Hammond said to the President.

  “I might at that. I’m trying to set up a state visit to England. Don’t be surprised if I join you from Copenhagen on. Might be nice coming in on a battleship instead of Air Force One,” O’Bannon said.

  “Me and my big mouth,” said Hammond, throwing up his hands. The group laughed again and began moving around the room talking to other guests. The party lasted until nearly dinner, with the President finally going on his walking tour after the meal. All through the ship the men stopped to speak and show the President what they did. It was a tired man who finally got to his cabin at 10 pm. It was the best Thanksgiving he ever had.

  Epilogue

  Korea

  Once the war was over there was no longer any reason to keep the drivers in the refugee camp. As they were preparing to make their way back home, a representative from an electronics company walked through the door of the barracks and offered them all jobs. All but a few were transported by bus to a sprawling complex that appeared untouched by the war. The drain from the military had left the company short of all kinds of workers; especially drivers.

  After signing several documents that Kee didn’t really understand, he was led out a side door to the loading dock. They explained he would be driving equipment and parts all over Korea and told him how much he would be paid. Kee hadn’t understood how much the pay was. In the North, he was given enough to stay alive but not much else. His apartment had been assigned by the state, which was a part of his salary. The supervisor walked him to a large semi-truck with a trailer. It was white and built by Hyundai.

  The supervisor showed him around the truck. He especially liked the area behind the cab that was like a small apartment. They spent about an hour going over the controls and the operating procedures. It was unlike anything he had driven before, but after an hour of driving the truck around the facility and getting to know its systems, he returned to the loading docks and attached to a trailer.

  Much to Kee’s amazement, his first load was to go to Pyongyang. Given new maps and directions to the major highway, Kee left with the rig on his first run as a free man. He was amazed to see how much better the roads were in the South. He was even more amazed that the gates along the border were open with no guards present. He knew the war was over, but after years of enforced separation it felt very strange.

  After a day of driving, he found the warehouse that was confiscated from the government and delivered his trailer of supplies. Leaving the trailer in the yard, he drove back to the apartment where he had lived and gathered his meager belongings. After weeks of living in decent surroundings, he realized how bad his assigned apartment had been. Kee closed the door but left it unlocked. He would never come back. Now he had a job and a future.

  At Sea, Near Jakarta

  The small freighter made its way toward Sasebo, Japan. It wasn’t new, but well maintained and usable, especially in smaller ports. At first, the owners planned to sell the ship, but after urging by their leading captain the decision was made to let it ply between the islands of the Western Pacific.

  Captain Sohn enjoyed the breeze through the bridge windows. The old ship ran well. Engineer Hahn had adopted the engines as his own and nursed them every day. Much to his surprise, his entire crew volunteered to follow him aboard their new home. The ship was smaller than the last one he commanded, but it was a ship and it was his.

  He watched several crewmen walking along the main deck checking the hatch covers. He saw them tighten some tie-downs and make their way forward. They would reach Sasebo the next day, then go to Hamhung in the new Korea to deliver foodstuffs. There he would allow the crew to have a few days to visit home. In particular, he planned to accompany a young crewman to fulfill his promise to one day get him back home.

  Pusan, Korea

  Three months into her assignment as US Forces, Korea, General Richardson was sitting in her office with little to do. Most of the American forces had been shipped home. The equipment was being loaded for transport back to the States and she was relegated to speeches and hand shaking for the most part.

  The Korean government had been very efficient in expanding into the North. Their first priority was making sure people were fed. As a result, there were few complaints or protests. The arms facilities were turned over to some of the larger Korean corporations. Hyundai had taken over most of the shipbuilding and boat yards. The ammunition plants were being converted to manufacturing fertilizer and other chemicals. Another was trying to build private aircraft. The workers squabbled and balked about new procedures and quality control, but with real wages they were getting used to the idea that, if they did a good job and people bought their product, they would get paid more. It was a nice incentive.

  There was a knock at her office door and h
er assistant Captain Neuman stepped in.

  “Ma’am, there are two people outside to see you. They are both Americans and said you told them to contact you if they needed help.”

  “Who are they and what do they want?” They wouldn’t be the first asking for a favor, although the fact that they were Americans surprised her slightly.

  “They didn’t say what they wanted, Ma’am, but they did say their name was Dickson. A Mr. and Mrs. Dickson.”

  Claire Richardson sprang from her chair and walked past the Captain to the door. The older couple was seated in chairs in the waiting area of the outer office. Richardson could immediately see that they were Dickson’s parents. The man had the stature of the boy and the color of his hair, but she could tell Lieutenant Dickson had looked like his mother. The resemblance was so strong Richardson was almost taken aback. She gathered herself and straightened her blouse before entering the room.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Dickson, I am so glad to see you. Won’t you come in my office?” she asked as she shook their hands and led them into the next room. Coffee was offered but politely refused. The two nervously sat together in the chairs beside her desk.

  “Thank you for seeing us, General,” the man said.

  “It’s my pleasure, Mr. Dickson. I can’t express how sorry I am at your loss.”

  They waved it away. “We know, General. Our son wrote and told us about talking to you a couple of times. Your letter was really appreciated,” said his mother.

  “I know we haven’t been in touch with you, but we decided to come to Korea and ask for your help,” the father said.

  Richardson leaned forward in her chair. “If I can, I would be happy to,” she said.

  The man smiled. “You mentioned in your letter the little boy Will saved, Jua Jing. We hoped to see the boy,” Mr. Dickson said.

 

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