by Robin Hutton
Riley wrote home, describing both the battle and his taking command of the platoon. “The ‘panic button’ was pushed sometime last week, and since then I’ve put in some long hours; right now, however, the 5th Regiment is in reserve and off the line,” he wrote on April 5, 1953. “The Chinks attacked the entire 5th Marine front a week or so ago and captured one of our outposts (a hill about 1,400 yards in front of the MLR called Vegas). It took a few days and quite a few casualties to get it back and set the Chinaman on his heels. An unbelievable amount of ammo was expended against [them] and [they] withdrew. In my platoon the 75s fired more ammo in four days than all last summer. Also, only a handful of my men were wounded.”
Riley added the platoon had gone into reserve on April 4 and, “are supposed to remain here for twenty days and then move up and relieve the other regiment. The only trouble we had moving was when ‘Reckless,’ the horse, decided he didn’t want to get into the trailer. We finally coaxed him in after a forty-five-minute delay. During the time of attack she hauled quite a bit of ammo up the hills and earned her feed.”
Riley ended with, “Tomorrow I get ten new men from the incoming draft—now I’m up to sixty-four men, one truck, two jeeps, six 75s and one horse.”42
(He later wrote home to correct himself on a personnel matter: “As far as Reckless is concerned, it was my error if I called her a he—as she is not a he, but a her.”43)
The Battle for the Nevada Complex was a turning point of the war. Skirmishes continued, but for the RR platoon, fierce battles like Outpost Vegas were over. In fact, peace was just four months away; the ceasefire would be signed July 27, 1953.
CHAPTER 7
THE WAR WINDS DOWN
I asked Lieutenant Quinn, our platoon leader, “What about Reno and Vegas?” He just shook his head and said, “They get to keep them.” I just sat down in the mud and cried hot, bitter tears.
—Sergeant Harold E. Wadley, USMC
While the down time at Camp Casey was a welcomed respite, it coincided with bittersweet news for the RR platoon: Eric Pedersen was giving up command of the Anti-Tank Company. Bill Riley wrote home on April 12, 1953, that Pederson had managed to get “extended for three months so he can be an air observer—fly around in a Piper Cub”1—but Pedersen would no longer be close by. His place would be taken by Captain James Schoen, soon to win a Bronze Star for his leadership in battle.
Joe Latham again offered to take up a collection to buy Reckless from Pedersen and keep the horse with the platoon. But Pedersen wanted to maintain a financial stake in the heroic horse and would only accept partial payment, so Reckless was sort of kept on loan to the platoon.
For Pedersen, it wasn’t about money, or investments, or the refracted glory of being associated with such an unusual war hero. Actually, he’d worried for a long time that after the war Reckless might be abandoned. In the back of his mind, he’d always hoped that when the time was right, he could arrange for her to be brought stateside so she could be properly cared for.
Bill Riley drove Pedersen to the pasture so he could say goodbye to his four-legged, battle-tested Marine conscript. When Reckless saw Pedersen, she stopped eating and joined him at the fence. Pedersen gently stroked her neck and back, and Reckless seemed to know something was up. She nuzzled the lieutenant. Pedersen turned to Riley. “He told me to take good care of her,” Riley said. “I told him, ‘Don’t worry, Pete. She’s in good hands.’”2 When Riley drove him away in his jeep, Pedersen did not look back.
With her heroics a few weeks earlier, Reckless was basking in her new status as the local hero of Camp Casey. Reporters eagerly snapped her picture and quizzed the men about their famous pal. Reckless’s visitors included a steady stream of officers from the Corps’ highest ranks, who dropped by to make sure she was doing okay, among them Major General Edwin Pollock, commander of the 1st Marine Division.
Rest and a regular diet seemed to restore Reckless’s playful spirit. She began putting on shows for her new fans—running, jumping, eventually finishing with that good-natured prance from the long-ago days at Sinseol-dong racetrack. She even took delight in teasing Latham by pretending she was going to run him down. After a few near-misses, Riley dryly offered Reckless’s target a warning: “I told him that one of these days she’s going to make a mistake and we’ll be looking for a new gunnery sergeant.”3
Reckless loved the attention, but there still was work to do. And for all that they loved and respected her, Reckless presented issues different from the usual Marine. Not only did she eat more, but, as Riley noted in a letter home, “Every time we move, the same old question pops up—how to move the horse. Right now, the men are trying to get her into a jeep trailer and the mud and rain aren’t helping out any.”4
Recklessly Assaulting the “Cleanest Vessel in the Fleet”
The regiment was scheduled for a ten-day amphibious exercise starting May 8, 1953.5 Riley organized his unit for the exercise, known in Corps jargon as MAR RCT LEX I (LEX I, for short). “I put down on the manifest, ‘One horse, so many inches high, and a trailer,’ and I thought it was a joke. But it turned out that everybody thought that was cool, so we took the horse with us.”6
Just before leaving, on May 7, 1953, Riley wrote home about the amphibious landing. “We leave here by train around 1 a.m.—arrive at a seaport around 10 a.m., board ship and go on a landing exercise somewhere in South Korea. We’ll be away about ten days. I don’t know if I told you or not, but we are taking the horse along and she sure causes a lot of problems. The landing exercise is a practice one, on a friendly shore, just to get us in shape in case a real one is needed if the talks in Panmunjom fail.”
The loading lists were forwarded to the Navy. According to the Battalion Operation Plan, Reckless would ride on the USS LST-10847, the vessel that carried the tanks. The ungainly ferry craft, formally called a “Landing Ship, Tank” (LST), could be described as a seagoing flatbed truck. The platoon rode on the USS Talladega APA-208. The mission called for the men to “land on MARLEX beaches, advance inland, seize force beach headline, protect landing of supporting elements and additional enemy forces in the area.”8
Captain Schoen and PFCs Monroe Coleman and Eagle Trader9 transported Reckless to Inchon, fifty-five miles away, by trailer. The rest of the unit traveled to Inchon by train—everyone but Joe Latham, who stayed behind to find a blacksmith for Reckless.
In a letter home, Riley wrote that before embarking for Inchon, “We took the horse into a village blacksmith to get her ‘shoe’d,’ but she had other ideas and tore apart the blacksmith shop and knocked over the ‘village blacksmith.’ Conclusion—she makes the trip with her ‘tender hoofs.’ I have a few pictures of myself on the horse—I’ll send them on when they are developed. I’ll mark the horse . . . just in case you’ve forgotten what I look like.”10
When the Navy’s LST loading officer saw the shipping list of equipment and men, one item stood out: “One horse with gear and two day’s rations. Weight: 850 pounds.” It’s not known if he laughed, but it’s clear the officer thought the Marines were trying to pull a fast one. He considered the possibility they might actually be trying to sneak beer or other non-issued food or drink onto the ship. Everything else on the list looked legit; only the horse entry seemed, well . . . fishy.
If there truly was a horse, he knew they would have a problem because for the second year in a row, the ship had just been honored as the cleanest vessel in the 7th Fleet. A horse on board could easily jeopardize that distinction.
Surely, he thought, this must be a Marine gag.
As Coleman unloaded Reckless from her trailer, arriving Army replacement troops stood by and watched. Unaware of Reckless’s identity or exploits, they shouted out:
“Hiya, Man o’ War.”
“Naw, that’s Seabiscuit.”
“Looks like a walking can of dog meat. Where’d you get that nag, Marines?”11
Reckless parades in front of the Army replacement troops as she readies to board the
ship for the amphibious landing exercise. J. R. Willcut
Reckless and her Marine handlers ignored the misguided taunts.
Still, as Monroe Coleman led Reckless up the LST’s boarding ramp, her presence caused a stir, especially with the Navy skipper.
“I recall that as Reckless and her party approached the LST, they were halted by a loud hail from the bow,” said Lieutenant Colonel Ed Wheeler, the regiment’s executive officer (and 1st Battalion commander after Pedersen was wounded for the third time). “The hailer proved to be the Navy skipper. He was considerably exercised over the proposition of transporting livestock in his clean tank deck. It was obvious his embarrassment was profound when the Marines pulled out a loading plan approved by him, which included in its myriad columns and figures, ‘1 horse, w/appurtenances.’ From that point on, I imagine that this officer is a firm believer in reading ‘the small print’ in any loading list he signs.”12
At last on board, Coleman set up Reckless with two days of rations and a stall between the tanks. The rest of her food would be brought by a truck (boarded on another ship) after they landed.
The amphibious exercise called for the regiment to land at Yongjong-Ni Beach (“Red Beach”), thirty-three and a half miles southwest of the U.S. Air Force’s Kunsan Ai- Base on the Yellow Sea. The landing would be followed by a mock battle, an advance of several thousand yards, and then withdrawal from the “battle” and re-boarding the ship.
Shortly after setting sail, the ship hit bad weather. The rank smell of gasoline from the tanks and the unsettling roll of the ship nauseated Reckless. Coleman sought out the ship’s doctor for nausea pills. But the doc thought Coleman was crazy and denied the request. Worse, the weather also forced a change in plans: only the infantry would be landing—Reckless and the tanks would stay on board.
Command Diaries for the 2nd Battalion, 5th Marines, May 1953, noted that in the morning hours of the thirteenth, “personnel of the Battalion participating on LEX-1 made the planned landing, took the objective and dug-in and spent the night there.” (Coincidentally, at 2:07 p.m. that same day, Lieutenant Colonel Andrew Geer, Reckless’s future biographer, took over command of the 2nd Battalion, 5th Marines.)13
Because Reckless was left aboard ship during the landing, and so there was no rendezvous on the beach with the truck carrying her food, a serious new problem arose: she had finished the few rations brought aboard for her, and there still were four days before they would be back at Inchon.
First Lieutenant William Cross, a Marine tank commander, asked for shredded wheat, cornflakes, or even bacon and eggs for Reckless. The request was refused. Instead, all they could get for the heroine of Outpost Vegas was oatmeal and cabbage.
What happened next served the Navy right for being so uncooperative. The cabbage gave Reckless another stomach ache. “My ship has won the ‘CE’ for being the cleanest vessel in the fleet two years and running,” moaned Navy Captain John Kaufman, commodore of the LST squadron, “but I can assure you Reckless is going to end that tenure.”14
Not only was Reckless depositing onto the tank deck proof of her illness, she was also losing weight. Kaufman finally sent a mordant dispatch to a Marine commander: “Reckless out of rations. We may have to eat her before she eats us.”15
The “cavalry” finally arrived in the form of Corporal Howard Richie, who docked a small boat piled high with barley and hay for the famished filly.
The rest of the trip went smoothly. Yet, strangely, the Navy never invited Reckless back for another cruise.
Back at camp, Riley wrote home about the trip. “I just returned from a ten-day cruise on the Yellow Sea,” he told his sweetheart. “It was a good change for the troops, plenty of good food and sleep. (Except the three days used in making a landing and running around the hills and through Korean villages.) The tide was too rough to land heavy vehicles, so our horse ‘Reckless’ didn’t get ashore. She spent her ten days aboard an LST. She wasn’t too happy about the whole deal, either.”16
Jimmy Lee
Joe Latham and Jimmy Lee
Latham, Jimmy, and unidentified Marine
Jimmy and Capt. Ted Mildner in front of Commanding Officer’s Tent
Jimmy and Capt. Mildner with Reckless
Jimmy on the back of Reckless
Jimmy on Reckless with unidentified Marine
Various pictures of the Korean orphan, Jimmy Lee, that Latham took under his wing, riding Reckless with Latham and Capt. Ted Mildner. Nancy Latham Parkin
When she returned to Camp Casey, Reckless met a new caretaker, a young Korean orphan taken under the wing of Sergeant Latham. This was Jimmy Lee, who struck up an immediate rapport with the horse and was her constant companion through the spring.
Challenging the Champion: Native Dancer, Reckless, and the Paddy Derby
Reckless’s roots in racing were not forgotten by the men of the RR platoon.
“We challenged Native Dancer,” Riley recalled. “She was the big horse of the day.”17
In letters home, Riley wrote giddily of the platoon’s publicity stunt. “By the time you receive this, our horse Reckless will be hitting the U.S. papers and a few TV programs. The division public info officer was here yesterday taking shots of the horse, the 75 and a few of the men from the platoon. Today, an NBC telecaster showed up and took television pictures of the horse, the 75 and two squads of men. How is this for a publicity angle? The division is challenging Reckless against the horse that won the Kentucky Derby, providing the race is in Korea and the K. Derby horse carries 75 ammo. They took a picture of the horse and a sign, ‘The Paddy Derby.’ The TV publicity will be on either The Dave Garroway Show or the John Cameron Swayze TV show about the time you receive this letter.”18
It’s not clear why the Marines changed horses from the Kentucky Derby winner, Dark Star, to the Preakness winner, Native Dancer, but on June 9, 1953, the Tokyo edition of Stars & Stripes ran a story—headlined, “‘Night-Mare’ In Shape: Marine Mare Dares Dancer”19—about the Marines’ offer to race Reckless again the great thoroughbred racehorse Native Dancer in a “Paddy Derby.” Back home, a Florida newspaper picked up the story: “‘Mare of the Mad Marines’ Challenges Native Dancer.”20
Throwing down the gauntlet: U.S. Marines challenge a champion at a makeshift war zone racetrack with a punny name. The dare went unacknowledged. Top: Lt. William Riley, Reckless, Platoon Sgt. Joseph Latham, Corpsman “Doc” Mitchell, Sgt. John Lisenby. Bottom (L-R): Edward A Kujawa, PFC Joe Gordon, PFC Billy R. Jones, Sgt. Elmer Lively, PFC Monroe Coleman, Cpl. Kenneth H. Schumacher, PFC Jose B. Cordova, and PFC Booker T. Crew. USMC History Division, Quantico, VA
Latham and Riley drafted a letter to Native Dancer’s owner, Alfred Vanderbilt. The note laid out race terms and conditions: “There are two stipulations we must make. Because Reckless is a very busy horse, Native Dancer must come to Korea and agree to a handicap.”21
The contest was to be held at “Upsan Downs,” a makeshift mile-and-a-half course of hills and rice paddies. The handicap: each rider-less horse would carry four rounds of 75 mm ammunition weighing 96 pounds.22 The first to reach the Recoilless Rifle team waiting at the finish line would be anointed the winner. “I guess,” Latham speculated, “that you’d call Reckless a dark horse, maybe even a ‘night-mare.’ She makes most of her races after dark.”23 The purse: a whopping $25,000, equivalent to about $215,000 today. It was proposed that each man in the 1st Marine Division would put up a dollar, but the Marines had so much confidence in their little mare that they easily could have raised three or four times the proposed purse.
They never needed to because their daring challenge went unanswered. They never heard from Mr. Vanderbilt. While Native Dancer endured his only loss in twenty-two career races in the Kentucky Derby on May 2 to 25 to 1 longshot Dark Star, Native Dancer rebounded by winning the Preakness at Pimlico and would soon compete in the Triple Crown’s final race, the Belmont Stakes.
The disappointed Marines remained cocksure of Reckless�
��s superior speed, even after Native Dancer took the Belmont plus the historic Travers Stakes at Saratoga. (At year’s end, the Thoroughbred Racing Associations named Native Dancer the 1953 American Champion for three-year-old male horses.)
A Change in Command
When Major General Edwin Pollock rotated back home from his tour of duty in Korea, he was replaced by Major General Randolph McCall Pate, future twenty-first Commandant of the Marine Corps and one of the horse’s greatest admirers.
Pate would later write about his first meeting with Reckless. “I was surprised at her beauty and intelligence, and believe it or not, her esprit de corps. Like any other Marine, she was enjoying a bottle of beer with her comrades. She was constantly the center of attraction and was fully aware of her importance. If she failed to receive the attention she felt her due, she would deliberately walk into a group of Marines and, in effect, enter the conversation. It was obvious the Marines loved her.”24
Latham in a photo shoot with Reckless. Top image was used on the cover of Lt. Col. Andrew Geer’s book, Reckless: Pride of the Marines. Command Museum, Marine Corps Recruit Depot, San Diego
Bottom: Joe Latham and Reckless. Mary Alice Gehrdes
But before Pollock left, he gave Reckless one last inspection. He was appalled at the poor condition of her shoes. Lieutenant Riley assured him that Sergeant Latham was on top of the problem. Reckless had a bad track record with farriers, he said, but he assured the general, Latham was taking her to a racetrack in Seoul the very next day where they thought a qualified farrier with a good horse-side manner might be found.
It proved to be an eventful trip.
Latham and Jimmy Lee loaded Reckless into her trailer and drove to the Sinseol-Dong racecourse. Pulling up, Latham sensed the horse’s excitement. And while Latham knew nothing of Reckless’s previous owner, everyone at the track remembered Kim Huk Moon’s spirited mare.