Five minutes later, Miss Jeanette Priestly, accredited war correspondent of the Chicago Tribune, leaned forward and asked, "What happened to the other fellow? The Trans-Global captain? Who set the speed record?"
"I expect about right now Major Malcolm S. Pickering, USMC Reserve, is trying to come up with a good excuse to get out of being mobilized," McCoy said.
Zimmerman laughed.
[TWO]
HEADQUARTERS, 34TH INFANTRY REGIMENT
24TH U.S. INFANTRY DIVISION
NONSAN, SOUTH KOREA
1530 15 JULY 1950
It had not proved hard to find the headquarters of the 34th Infantry Regiment, although the best location of it Captain McCoy had been able to extract from an S-3 sergeant at 24th Infantry Division headquarters had been rather vague:
"I think it's probably here, Captain," the sergeant had said, pointing to a map. "On Route One, a little village called Nonsan. That's where it's supposed to be."
Nonsan turned out to be a typical small Korean town, a collection of thatch-roofed stone buildings surrounding a short, sort of shopping strip of connected two-story, tin-roofed buildings, two of which, according to a plywood sign, had been taken over by "Hq 34th Inf Regt."
The officer standing outside one of the stores-probably the regimental commander; there was a white colonel's ea-gle painted on his helmet-looked, McCoy thought, a lot like the motor officer at Headquarters, Eighth Army.
Not only was he a portly man armed with a.45 ACP pis-tol, his fatigue jacket sweat-stained under his armpits, and with a sweaty forehead, as the major had been, but from the moment he had seen the Jeep, it was clear he was not at all pleased at what he saw.
McCoy pulled the Jeep in beside two other Jeeps and a three-quarter-ton truck, and got out.
"Stay in the Jeep," he ordered, then walked up to the colonel and saluted.
The colonel returned the salute.
"Who's the woman?" the colonel asked.
"Miss Jeanette Priestly, of the Chicago Tribune, sir," McCoy replied.
The colonel motioned for McCoy to precede him into the building, and when they were both inside, asked, dis-gustedly, "What's she doing here?"
"She's an accredited war correspondent, sir, with orders permitting her to go wherever she wants to go."
"Jesus H. Christ!" the colonel said. "With two body-guards, right?"
"Not exactly, sir," McCoy said. "May I show you my or-ders?"
The colonel gestured impatiently for McCoy to hand them over. McCoy gave him the Dai-Ichi orders. The colonel read them and handed them back.
"Marines, huh? I thought your fatigues were a little odd."
"Yes, sir."
"Okay, Captain McCoy of the Marine Corps, what ex-actly is your mission, except for escorting a female-who has absolutely no business being here-around?"
"We've been sent here, sir, to see what's going on."
"By who? General Almond himself?"
McCoy didn't reply.
"That was a question, Captain," the colonel said, sharply.
"Sir, we work for General Pickering."
Almost visibly, the colonel searched his memory for that name, and failed.
"He's in the Dai Ichi Building?"
"Yes, sir."
"So what is your connection with the lady?"
"When Eighth Army couldn't give us a Jeep, sir, I com-mandeered hers."
"And brought her along with you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, Captain, she's your responsibility. I don't want to be responsible for her safety. Not that I could if I wanted to."
"Yes, sir."
"You want to `see what's going on'? Presumably you somehow intend to relay what you see to your boss-Gen-eral Pickering, you said?"
"Yes, sir."
"I don't have any communications that will permit you to do that, and I would be surprised if division does."
"Yes, sir."
"But it has just occurred to me," the colonel said, some-what bitterly, "presuming you can find someway to com-municate with the Dai Ichi Building, that it might be a very good thing for our senior officers to learn `what's going on' here. Come with me, Captain, and I'll tell you what I know about `what's going on.'"
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
The colonel turned and walked farther into the long and narrow building, which, judging from the shelves on both walls, had been a store of some kind or another.
There were the usual officers and enlisted men, and then-equipment, of a regimental headquarters crowding the room, and the colonel had apparently elected to put his field desk at the far end, where there was another door.
As McCoy followed the colonel between the desks and around the field telephone switchboard and radio sets, he glanced into a side room.
In it were three North Korean soldiers, wearing insignia that identified them as a sergeant, a corporal, and a private. They were seated with their backs against a wall. A ser-geant with an Ml carbine sat on a folding chair, guarding them.
"Colonel," McCoy called. "Excuse me, Colonel."
The colonel looked impatiently over his shoulder. By then, McCoy had gone into the room.
"God damn!" the colonel said, and went after him.
The sergeant looked at McCoy curiously.
"Get to your feet when an officer enters a room, Sergeant!" McCoy snapped unpleasantly.
The sergeant did so with very little enthusiasm.
The colonel appeared at the door, his mouth open to speak.
McCoy spoke first. He pointed at the North Korean pri-vate.
"That applies to you, too," he said, nastily, in Korean.
The private looked for a moment as if he was going to stand, but then relaxed against the wall.
"On your feet, all of you," McCoy barked, in Korean.
They all stood up.
"Have you eaten?" McCoy asked. "Do you need water?"
The North Korean sergeant said "water" in Korean.
The private glowered at him.
"Colonel," McCoy said, "the private of the 83rd Motor-cycle Regiment, the one with the good leather boots, is al-most certainly an officer, and very probably speaks English. Most of the officers of the 83rd do. I will speak with him, with all of them, after your sergeant gets them water, rations, and some cigarettes."
The colonel looked at McCoy for a long moment, then turned to the sergeant.
"You heard the captain," he said. "Get a canteen and a box of C-rations in here."
McCoy took the sergeant's carbine from him and held it on his hip, like a hunter, until the sergeant returned with two canteens and a box of C-rations.
He set the box on the floor, and tried to hand one of the canteens to the North Korean sergeant. He shook his head, "no."
"Take the water," McCoy ordered in Korean. "You are all prisoners. I give the orders here, not your officer."
The sergeant looked at the private, then took the can-teen.
"Bingo," McCoy said, very softly, to the colonel, handed the American sergeant his carbine, and walked out of the room.
He walked out of earshot of the room, then stopped.
"You speak Korean. I'm impressed," the colonel said.
"Are they your prisoners, sir? Or did you inherit them?"
"My third battalion captured them," the colonel said. "Division was supposed to send for them-take them for interrogation...."
"They're from the 83rd Motorcycle Regiment," McCoy said. "They're pretty good. The regimental commander is-the last I heard, a Colonel Pak Sun Hae, who used to be a lieutenant in the Soviet Army. They're well trained, and well equipped."
"Which is, sadly, more than I can say about the 34th In-fantry," the colonel said.
"Colonel, for my purposes-it would make them even more uncomfortable than they are-I'd like Miss Priestly to take their picture. Would that be all right?"
The colonel thought that over.
"Why not?" he said, after a minute, and turned to a master sergeant standin
g nearby. "There's a lady and a Marine in a Jeep outside, Sergeant. Would you ask them to come in, please?"
`Tell her to bring her camera, Sergeant," McCoy or-dered.
As Jeanette Priestly followed Zimmerman and the ser-geant through the narrow building, there were looks of dis-belief on the faces of the regimental officers and soldiers.
"With the caveat that I don't think you should be here," the colonel said, "welcome to the 34th Infantry, Miss Priestly."
"Thank you," she said, and looked at McCoy. "What's up?"
"There're three North Korean prisoners in there," Mc-Coy said, pointing. "I want you to take their picture. Plural. Pictures."
"And then you take my film, right?"
"No. I don't want your film. When you have it processed in Tokyo, I'm sure they'll make prints for G-2. Ernie, you go in there and see if you think any of them speak Chinese. The little guy in the good boots is, I suspect, an officer. He's not going to say much, but if you think one of the oth-ers speaks Chinese, take him someplace and see what he knows. They're from the 83rd Motorcycle Regiment."
Zimmerman nodded. "Aye, aye, sir."
"I would like to use the ladies' room," Jeanette an-nounced.
"I'm afraid we can't offer you much, Miss Priestly," the colonel said.
"I didn't expect that you could," she said, and smiled dazzlingly at him. "Why don't you call me `Jennie,' Colonel. We're friends, right?"
"Sergeant, escort Miss Priestly to the latrine, and stand guard," the colonel ordered. Then he turned to McCoy. "Would you like to have a look at the map, Captain?"
"Yes, sir. Thank you."
The map, covered with transparent celluloid, was mounted on a sheet of plywood against the wall behind the colonel's desk.
"Here we are now, the regiment-and the division- strung out along the Kum River." He pointed.
"Yesterday morning, Item Company of my 3rd Battal-ion, here, on the south bank of the Kum, was brought under tank fire at about 0600-first light. No real damage was done, but the artillery forward observer couldn't come up with the coordinates of the tanks, so we couldn't hurt them either.
"About the same time, an outpost of Love Company- here on the far left flank-reported seeing two barges ferrying North Koreans across the river two miles to their west. Accidentally, or intentionally, they were out of range of any of our artillery.
"By 0930, they had five hundred men across the river. The North Korean artillery was working, and they brought Love Company under fire, at about the same time as did the mortars of the North Koreans who had crossed the river: 0935 to 0940."
The colonel stopped and looked at McCoy.
"Have you ever been under mortar and artillery fire, Cap-tain? Or have you spent your entire career in intelligence?"
"I've been under fire, sir."
"More than once?"
"Yes, sir."
"Do you remember the first time?"
"Yes, sir."
"Where was that?"
"In the Philippines, sir. The Japanese used naval gunfire before landing."
"Were you afraid?"
"Very much, sir."
"Did you `withdraw'?"
"Sir?"
"Did you `withdraw'-the new word for that is `bug out'?"
"No, sir."
"Do you remember why not?"
"No, sir," McCoy said. "We were there to try to repel the landing barges."
"My first time was in Italy," the colonel said. "I shat my pants. But I didn't bug out."
"Sir?"
"The company commander of Love Company, Captain, within minutes of coming under fire, `withdrew.' Not only personally, but ordered his soldiers to do likewise."
McCoy did not reply.
"As it turned out," the colonel went on, "it wasn't as bad as it could have been. The artillery fire on Love Company was apparently a diversionary attack to conceal their real intention, which was to move to the south in this direc-tion-he pointed-and sever the road here. If they had at-tacked the deserted positions of Love Company..."
"I think I get the picture, sir," McCoy said.
"I relieved the officer in question, of course, as soon as what he had done came to my attention, but I didn't come into that information until some time after it happened. By that time-several hours later, whatever time it took them to move three miles against virtually no opposition-ap-proximately three hundred North Korean infantry were here, on this road, near the village of Samyo.
"So was the 63rd Field Artillery Battalion, 105-mm howitzers. They had been providing much of my artillery support. The North Koreans launched an immediate attack against them. Tell me, Captain, how are Marine can-noneers armed?"
"Sir?"
"Are they armed with carbines?"
"I'm not sure. It's my understanding that the officers, and some senior non corns, can elect to carry carbines..."
"But the junior NCOs and privates have Ml Garands, and are trained in their use?"
"Sir, every Marine is a rifleman."
"There were very few Garands in the 63rd Field Ar-tillery," the colonel said, matter of factly, "which is the ex-planation offered for the failure of the 63rd to adequately defend itself by an officer who managed to escape the de-bacle there."
"Sir?"
"Wouldn't you agree that roughly two hundred men- which was the strength of the 63rd-should be able to hold out longer than two hours against three hundred infantry, not supported by artillery?"
"Yes, sir, I would."
"The enemy attacked the 63rd at approximately 1330. By 1530, the enemy had killed or captured all but a lucky few officers and men who managed to escape, and cap-tured all of the 63rd Field's vehicles, cannon, and a consid-erable supply of ammunition."
"They got all the guns?" McCoy asked, incredulously.
"All of them. And before the 63rd was able to spike them," the colonel said, confirmed.
"Jesus!" McCoy said.
"At about this time," the colonel went on, "Item Company learned for the first time that Love Company had bugged out, and that the enemy was astride its road to the rear. The company commander asked for permission to withdraw, and 3rd battalion commander recommended that it be granted; he said that he didn't think the re-formed Love Company- he described them as `demoralized'-could be trusted to counterattack and reopen the road behind Love Company. I gave permission for the withdrawal."
The colonel let that sink in and then went on.
"It was necessary for them to `withdraw' over the moun-tains-the roads were in enemy hands-and they eventu-ally made it here. Without a substantial percentage of their crew-served weapons, which simply could not be carried over the mountains."
The colonel gave McCoy time to absorb that, and then went on:
"I have no reason, Captain, to believe that the 19th In-fantry will fare any better than the 34th has, for the same reasons. One of the reasons I believe that to be true is that the division's third regiment, the 21st Infantry, in three days of fighting, has lost about half its officers and men."
"Half?"
"Half," the colonel confirmed. "What was left of the 21st was gathered near Taejon, and reorganized. Reorga-nized, rather than reconstituted, which implies bringing a unit up to strength. There is no replacement system in place from which replacements for losses can be drawn. What happened to the 21st is that an attempt has been made to form companies and battalions from its remnants.
"What that means, of course, is that when the 21st goes back into combat, very few, if any, of the men will have served*-much less trained-together. Moreover, because many officers are among the dead and missing, many com-panies-perhaps most-will be commanded by lieutenants who were platoon leaders four days ago, and many pla-toons will be led by sergeants. In some cases, corporals.
"Early this morning, the 21st was trucked from Taejon to Okchon, here." He pointed on the map. "That's about ten miles east of Taejon. They have been ordered to set up positions here, on the Seoul-Pusan highway, about halfway between Okcho
n and Taegu. If the enemy elects to attack down the highway-or to take the high ground on either side of the highway-resistance to those sort of moves will obviously be hindered by the lack of artillery. In fact, I sus-pect that when the North Koreans attack, their assigned ar-tillery will be augmented by the 105-mm tubes the 63rd Field lost."
W E B Griffin - Corp 09 - Under Fire Page 27