Scars and Stars

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Scars and Stars Page 8

by Dustin Stevens


  “Marks removed his helmet and scratched at the close cropped hair on his neck. “That’s what I just asked Rollins. Williams told him something like this might happen and if it did, this was how we were supposed to proceed.”

  “A series of groans went up around the circle. One guy even muttered, “Should have known some half baked shit like that came from him.”

  “So we’re just sitting here?” the southern accent asked again.

  “Marks looked up at him and said, “No. We’ve got half a dozen soldiers to bury,” then stood and walked away.”

  My uncle shifted his weight from the pole and stepped to the edge of the porch. He sat with his legs hanging over the edge and placed the cane down beside him.

  “The next page in the album is a dog tag. Soldiers wear them around their neck as identification. If something happens to them in battle, it states their name, rank, social security number, and blood type.

  “Jack, Buddy, myself, and a guy named Baker were all assigned to one of the fallen. Since we were the new guys, Jack and I were sent in after the body. That meant we had to crawl on our bellies back into the forest and drag the man out behind us.

  “When we got back, we all just sort of stood and stared at him for several minutes. Somehow he looked even younger than we did, easily could have been another kid in the halls of our school.

  “Baker was the first to move, walking up to the body and pulling the dog tags from around his neck. “Private Justin Briggs," he read aloud, then handed one of the tags to Jack and the other to me. “Standard rule of soldiering, hang on to a tag from any man you bury. Helps make sure every one of our boys are accounted for after the fact.”

  “We each stowed the tag in our packs, then helped Buddy and Baker bury Brigg’s remains.”

  “Is that Brigg’s dog tag on the page over there?” I asked.

  Uncle Cat shook his head. “No, not the original anyway. A few months later we lost our packs and all the tags we had in them. I never forgot his name though and when I got back I had the tag made.

  “Truth be known, I never forgot the names of any of the soldiers I laid to rest. I thought about having tags made for them too, but in the end I didn't.”

  My uncle fell silent.

  “Why not?”

  "Because there were twenty-eight of them," he said. "But he was the first.

  "Like most things, after awhile a person can develop a tolerance for pain. There are some details to the story that have gotten fuzzy over the years, but the way I felt as I dug that first grave...that's something I'll never forget.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  My uncle gestured over his shoulder with his chin and said, “The next page is a shell casing for an M-1 round.”

  The only word in that whole sentence I understood was shell. In my mind I envisioned him walking the beach, waiting for dark, picking up seashells.

  “An M-1 was the standard issue weapon of the United States Army during Korea. Today it would be a pea-shooter next to an M-16, but back then they were heavy duty. Amazing degree of accuracy up to several hundred yards away and a lighter muzzle flash for firing under darkness."

  My uncle motioned back towards the book and said, “Over time, it was easy to scavenge weapons. I picked up a sidearm from a fallen Korean guard and a K-Bar knife from a Marine headed home.

  "Starting out though, it was just me and the M-1.”

  The front door swung open behind us. My great-grandmother, aided by her always squeaking walker, took several small steps out on to the front porch and asked, “How you getting along out here Cat?”

  My uncle turned and said, “Just fine Mama.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t like you being out here all by your lonesome. You should come inside and get some food.”

  “I’m not alone,” he countered. “Austin and are having a talk.”

  My great-grandmother smiled and maneuvered herself back around towards the door. As she did, her eyes focused on the book lying open on the floor and she drew in a sharp breath.

  I could tell she knew what it was, even if she'd never looked through it.

  The door slammed shut behind her without another word from anybody.

  “Tenos Beach was our camp until almost nine o’clock that night. Burying the men only took a few hours, leaving the rest of the day as an extensive exercise in patience. Some of the men built small fires and cooked food; some curled up on palm fronds and attempted to sleep. Most of us were wired so tight we just sat and waited, counting the seconds until nightfall.

  “When night came we headed out towards the Paching, moving in a double file along the beach. We walked at a slow but steady pace, hoping to keep our noise down as we went. I would have preferred double time if only to burn off some excess energy, but the packs were too noisy to allow it.

  “When we got to the river, we dropped back to a single file line and began to wade upstream. We cut a path in water up to our knees, thick cloud cover above blocking out any moonlight. A lot of the boys had a time trying to walk along over the rocks, but it didn't bother me any. I was pretty used to it.

  “We moved inland after well over a mile. Our boots were waterlogged and every bit of gear we had was soaked by the time Rollins turned us back into the forest.

  “The second our feet touched shore, we went to an even higher state of alert. Every sound got at least five men's attention, every step was taken under the greatest of care. It was slow and painful going, took us almost two hours to cover the few miles to our assigned position.

  “Along the way, word had filtered back that we were to attack at dawn. Turns out, that was wrong twice.

  “We didn't have to wait that long, and we didn't do the attacking."

  My uncle ran a weathered hand back through his mane of thick gray hair. “Rollins set up camp in a clearing with thick timber flanking us a quarter mile in both directions. Jack and I both knew there was no way we could sleep with battle just hours away. Instead, we both paced the length of the line, walking from one end to the other.

  “We were several hundred yards away from the clearing when the first cracks of rifle fire snapped through the night. Our nerves were already on end and we both jumped the second the shooting started.

  “Rifles clutched in front of us, we tore through the forest to join the line. As we did, more than a few of our men sprinted past us in the opposite direction. No weapons, no composure, no nothing. Just running like their hair was on fire.

  "To be honest, I don't know that I ever saw a one of them again.

  “Side by side we made a beeline for Rollins screaming into a radio at the rear of the clearing.

  "Where you want us?” Jack yelled.

  “Rollins jerked the phone away from his face and screamed, "South! Swing south! We're getting shredded down there!"

  “I think he might have said something else, but I couldn't hear him. We were already on our way to the south, the forest a blur as it filed past us. Smoke hung heavy in the air and the screams of soldiers filled our ears.

  “I have no idea how far we went, though it felt like a long way. Gripped by apprehension and adrenaline, we pounded along until Marks called out for us to join him. In unison we dove behind a felled tree just seconds before a mortar exploded right where we'd been standing.

  “Keeping my head as low as I could, I worked my rifle up onto the tree and snapped shots out into the night. Jack did the same beside me, firing at anything that moved.

  “For a long time, that's how things went. It was so loud, with pockets of bright light followed by intense darkness, people stumbling back and forth. We lay behind that tree and continued firing long after their last return volley before we stopped to listen.

  “You boys alright?” Marks asked in a loud whisper.

  “Yes sir,” I said. “How’s everybody over there?”

  “We lost Abbott and Musey. Unger’s pretty bad off but alive.”

  “I turned my head to Jack and whispered, “We know any o
f those boys?”

  “He shook his head, but said nothing.

  “What’s the plan Marks?” I asked.

  “Far as I can tell, you two are the end of the line," he said. “Sit tight. It’s almost five now, morning can’t be far off. If they’re going to try anything, it’ll be right before daybreak.”

  “I grunted in response and turned my attention back to the woods. “I only brought three clips with me. I thought we were taking a walk, not going into battle.”

  “Jack rolled over onto his side and fished two clips from his pants. “This is everything I have left. After that, I guess we use bayonets.”

  “I grunted again and kept my eyes on the woods. The night sky had lightened to a shade of dark gray and I breathed a silent prayer that morning was almost on us.”

  My uncle paused and for a moment studied the palm of his hand.

  “I had barely finished that prayer when they came at us. The first thing we saw was silhouettes, bouncing through the woods like ghosts. We both fired as fast as we could, which set them to screaming as they ran forward. The entire woods seemed like it shook with the sound. Seemed like there must have been a thousand of them coming at us.

  “It was light enough to see them falling each time I fired, but there always seemed to be another to take its place. We both stayed right where we were and fought down to our last clip of ammunition when Marks called over and told us to get the hell out of there.

  “He didn't have to tell us twice.

  "Together we rose to our haunches and slipped back deeper into the woods, firing the entire way as we went. To our right I could see muzzle flashes and hear men cursing in English, to our left there was nothing but empty forest.

  “We stepped backwards as fast as we could, picking our way through trees and fallen soldiers. More than we once stopped to pull ammunition from someone that wouldn't be needing it any longer.

  “Overhead, the sky continued to lighten. I had no idea how far back we had retreated, but it must have been far enough for the North Koreans to stop and regroup again. An eerie stillness gripped the world as silence fell, accentuated by a thick fog of smoke floating through the trees.

  “Everybody sit tight!” Marks yelled. “Remember last time. They’re grouping up to make another push!”

  “We stayed that way for a full ten minutes. Jack and I did another ammunition check and I gave him an extra clip I'd picked up. Hunkered down and motionless, we were just about to pull on back to the clearing when the Koreans made their move.

  “During the retreat I didn't realize they’d gotten so close. Out of nowhere they sprang from the ground and charged for us, no more than fifty yards separating the two sides. Guttural screams accompanied them as they charged forward, our gunfire doing nothing to slow their approach. “Little by little they closed the space between us until there wasn't a gap left at all. The first to reach us was a small Korean no older than me that leapt over a downed tree with a pistol in hand. I put two bullets into his chest and rolled to the side as he crashed to the ground, already sighting in on my next target.

  “The sound of metal scraping beside me jerked my attention to the side to see Jack engaged in bayonet fighting with a Korean, another rushing him fast. I slid to a knee beside the man I'd just shot, snatched up his pistol and fired a round into one man while Jack thrust his bayonet into the other.

  “Without pause, Jack wheeled and aimed his gun right at me, firing at a spot a foot above my head. On instinct I dropped myself towards the ground as a pained cry rang out and an inert body toppled over me.

  “You two get the hell out of there!” Marks called through the woods and we retreated towards his voice.

  “I’m not sure if the Koreans thought he was talking to them, but they started to fall back as well. We found Marks lying behind a makeshift cover of bodies, blood covering his left leg. Grabbing either side of him, we hoisted him onto his feet and helped him along, moving as fast as we could.

  “Where the hell is everybody else?” I muttered.

  “Half didn’t make it," Marks said. "Other half got the hell out while they could.”

  “You alright?" Jack asked.

  “Aw hell, it’s just a scratch," Marks said. "I was retreating and tripped over Abbott. His damn bayonet got me in the thigh.”

  “Carrying him, it took us about twenty minutes to get back to the main camp. When we arrived Rollins looked like he might shoot himself as he directed people around and continued barking into his radio. There must have been twenty or thirty wounded and dead soldiers strewn about the clearing.

  “We found an empty spot along the outer edge and propped Marks up against a tree. Jack fetched him a bandage and we helped him tie it around his leg the best we could.

  "As we started to walk away, he looked at us and said, “Hey, you boys ever been in combat before?”

  “We both shook our heads.

  “I’ll tell you this much, I take back that crack I made about not wanting to go into battle with two greenies. I'll take you watching my ass anytime.”

  My uncle raised his head and stared out over the water. “Just like the dog tag, that’s not the real M-1 shell I fired that day. The real one is still somewhere in Korea right now, buried beneath decades of soil.

  “The reason we included it was to mark our first ever experience in battle.

  “A man can train himself for the sights of war, but it's impossible to prepare the other senses. There’s no way to condition for hearing the screams of men and there is no way to recreate the smell of lead and blood in the air.

  “We had now seen it all first hand, and we would never forget it again."

  Chapter Twenty

  “Let’s take a walk,” my uncle said. The gathering inside was still going strong and I could hear pockets of laughter escaping through the windows and out into the afternoon air.

  The tale of the fire fight had taken its toll on him. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead and his breathing was a bit faster.

  We walked side by side through the front yard and followed a foot path down to the water’s edge. The trail cut through tall grasses that came to my waist and swayed with the breeze.

  As we grew closer, the sun danced bright off the water.

  Ten feet from the water’s edge the path expanded into a gravel bar that ran twenty yards in both directions. My uncle motioned for me to follow him and together we walked past it to a stretch of soft brown sand where we both took a seat.

  “We lost almost two-thirds of our men that first night,” he opened without preamble. “Dwayne, Marks, Buddy, they all made it. Baker and many others weren’t so lucky.

  “By the time the fighting ended and we were certain the Koreans were done for the morning, the sun was well on its way into the sky. We didn't have time to give proper burials to all the fallen, so instead Rollins sent us out in pairs to collect dog tags. It was hasty and it was crude, but it was the best we could do given the circumstances.

  “Jack and I were among those that went out to collect and by the time we got back, Rollins had received our new assignment. We weren't the only ones to face an attack and many of the other units were just as bad, if not worse off, than we were.

  “Instead of our original orders, we were going to push northwest and align ourselves with the 73rd and 85th regiments. From there, two units of South Korean soldiers would join us and we would sweep from west to east across the island. The idea was to free up Pusan and all the forces bottle-necked in the south.

  “It sounded like the kind of plan Captain Williams would devise. Everybody tossed each other uneasy glances as Rollins spoke.

  “I remember somebody asking, “So how far we talking?”

  “We’re looking at twelve to fourteen miles,” Rollins replied.

  “By when?” Buddy asked from off to the left.

  “Nightfall,” Rollins responded.

  “More murmurs went up from the men.

  “Rollins sighed and looked around the cir
cle. “I don't like it any more than you do, but these are our orders. We'll be leaving in ten minutes and humping hard, so leave everything you don't need."

  “As it turned out, that was one of the worst pieces of advice I ever received.”

  My uncle picked up a small stick from the ground beside him and traced a few lines in the sand. Using it as a pointer, he narrated, “South Korea is shaped kind of like a sock, dropping down in an elongated loop to the south. We were down here by the toe, just outside of Pusan. We had to go north a little ways up the foot and loop around to meet up with the rest of our forces.”

  Still using the stick, he outlined their path for me.

  “It took us most of the day to make that hike. Many of us had been awake for two days and many had injuries ranging in severity. The mid-summer sun beat down on us as we walked and we stopped at every spring we found to drink and fill our canteens.

  “We walked in a single file line through the forest with scouts posted a quarter mile out in every direction to watch for encroaching enemies. Twice during the hike Jack and I had to take our turn keeping watch, but the trip as a whole passed without incident.

  “The sun was sinking low on the horizon when we made our way into camp that night. Many of the men we found there were dirty and had the look of recent battle, though none wore near the exhaustion we did.

  “Rollins ordered us all straight to rest and for the first time since leaving home, I slept soundly through the night.

  “The next morning Jack and I rose early and made a lap around the camp. In all there were close to four hundred Americans, a few hundred more South Koreans set up just beyond. By the time we made it back to our regiment, most of the men were awake and moving about. Many were heating dehydrated food over fires and making coffee in the morning sun.

  “Jack and I found Marks shaving over a pot of hot water and sat down beside his fire. Buddy dropped in a few minutes later, followed by two more men I recognized from the night in R Barracks.

 

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