by Robin Hutton
When Kim’s one-armed friend Choi Chang Ju stepped from the crowd to greet them, Reckless perked up. She was thrilled to see Choi and walked over to greet her old friend warmly.
Latham explained why they had come. Choi slipped an arm over Reckless’s neck, turned, and shouted something to a Korean boy, who scurried out of view behind the stables.
Choi turned back to Latham. “I know Ah-Chim-Hai long time,” Choi said. Latham had never heard Reckless’s Korean name before.25
Choi led Reckless to her old stall, and another young Korean man raced over to see her. It was Kim Huk Moon, reunited with his beloved horse, the one he called Flame. Reckless nuzzled Kim’s chest, as her former owner draped his arms joyfully around her neck.
Latham had no idea who Kim was—and actually assumed he was the farrier—but saw she was in good hands and so left with Jimmy to get something to eat and look at the planes while waiting for Reckless to get new shoes.
One can only imagine Kim’s emotions at getting to see his dear friend again. He took loving care of Reckless, fixing her shoes, then brushing and massaging her as he used to do nightly. He stayed as long as he could but slipped away before Latham and Jimmy returned to the stables.
Latham studied Reckless’s shoes and found they were perfect. He looked around for Kim to thank, but the young man was gone. Latham paid Choi, led Reckless into the trailer, and headed back to camp.
It was the last time Kim Huk Moon ever saw his beautiful Flame.
War’s End
Summer was upon them when the Marines were ordered back into action. This time, Reckless found herself in almost the same spot as where she had begun her military career, near Changdan, where her unit was charged with supporting Outpost Hedy from Molar Hill with recoilless rifle fire to keep the Communist Chinese from extending their trenches. Reckless was kept busy, roving the line, supporting fire missions, until one day in July it was over.
At 10:01 a.m. on Monday, July 27, 1953, Lieutenant General William K. Harrison, representing the United Nations forces, and North Korean General Nam Il signed the first of eighteen armistice documents. It was an anti-climactic end to a savage war—what the United Nations insisted on calling a “police action”—which had taken almost thirty-seven thousand American lives, wounded more than twice that number, and possibly killed more than five million people in total. The armistice was a “cease-fire,” which remains in effect today. There has never been an official peace treaty ending the Korean War. At 10:00 p.m., Marines on the Main Line of Resistance fired off a star cluster—a sort of wartime fireworks display—to acknowledge the Marines would observe the cease-fire, and also for a practical reason.
“I was on Outpost Dagmar when it ended at 2200 hours, 27th of July,” recalled Harold Wadley. “And when they shot up in the air—dad gum, our artillery was really banging and so was theirs. And those of us that were hunkered down in holes didn’t have the privilege of knowing what was happening.
“We thought they were still fighting. But we learned later why they were doing it—they were firing up to get rid of all their extra ammo so they didn’t have to pack it. And there we were, sitting under the middle of it all on Outpost Dagmar, and gosh Almighty it was something.
“And we were told to clear our weapons and leave. And Lieutenant Quinn and I said, ‘Dad gum, we weren’t going back through this crap, that’s seven, 800 yards back to the line.’ And so he just acted like he couldn’t hear the radio and we stayed because we thought it was a trick of some kind.
“And then the next day we were ordered to come back . . . and there again, we said, ‘We’re not going to cross there in daylight.’ There were Chinese all over; you couldn’t count them, they were so thick around us. And we said, ‘We aren’t going back.’
“And so then, Lieutenant Quinn radioed back and said he’d had radio difficulty, but he understood we were to proceed to the MLR immediately, but he said it will be after dark. And we were told not to have a round in our chamber.
“Well, we had a round in our chamber.
“It was terrible. Looking out there at Vegas, Carson, and Reno—dad gum. 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. A big hand grasped my shoulder and I looked up. It was Lieutenant Quinn. And tears were running through the grime on his face also. All that blood-soaked earth and we gave it back to them! Every 27th I go out and fire one round to the [northwest].”26
For what everyone hoped would be the last time, the dark Korean hills rocked with flame and noise. Then the hills lay quiet. At sea, ships backed away from the cold gray waters off North Korea. On land, aircraft stood silent on the fields.
When the reality of the cease-fire sank in, the American troops celebrated. That night, Reckless partied alongside the boys—and not just her pals from the RR platoon.
“It was like a family reunion when we all got together, because we were all stretched out across the front lines, with different platoons and different companies,” recalled PFC Don Menzies, a gunner with the Anti-Tank Company of the 5th Marines.
“On Armistice Day, she got drunk on beer with the rest of the guys,” Menzies said, “and she staggered about the camp. It was a sight to see and one I will never forget.”27
Camp Semper Fidelis
Because the Armistice called for a demilitarized zone (DMZ) a military demarcation line (MDL) was drawn up. Each side retreated 2,000 yards, thus establishing a 4,000-yard DMZ between them. A new “No fly zone” was created, its corridor extending to the town of Kaesong, west of Panmunjom. Within seventy-two hours of the ceasefire, “combatants were to remove ‘all military forces, supplies and equipment’”28 from the DMZ. Old defenses were torn down, and new ones were built within a forty-five day deadline ending September 13, 1953. Some old outposts like Bunker Hill, Esther, and Ava lay north of the MDL. The agreement also called for each side to maintain a force of a thousand “civil police” to provide a buffer across the 155-mile front. To meet this mission, the 1st Provisional Demilitarized Zone Police Company was formed on September 4, drawing its personnel from the 1st Marine Division’s infantry regiments. Each regiment furnished twenty-five enlisted men and one officer. On September 21, the DMZ Police Company was attached to the 5th Marine Regiment.
Camp Semper Fidelis, built specifically to house the 1st Provisional DMZ Police Company, was situated just north of the Imjin River, southeast of Changdan. Constructed in four days, the new police unit occupied the camp for about eighteen months, until March 17, 1955, when they were replaced by the 24th Infantry Division and returned to the States.
At the camp entrance stood a Torii, the traditional Japanese gateway to a sacred place said to bring good luck. It also made a beautiful backdrop for taking pictures. No records survive to indicate precisely when Reckless visited the camp, but by the stripes on her blanket in Marines’ snapshots, she was a corporal at the time.
Navy Hospital Corpsman Sam Saba, the Marine 1st Provisional Demilitarized Zone Police Company corpsman, poses with then-Corporal Reckless. Leatherneck Magazine
Reckless poses with Rene Morin at the entrance of Camp Semper Fidelis. Rene Morin
CHAPTER 8
OLD FRIENDS LEAVE, NEW FRIENDS ARRIVE
She just stood still. They read off everything and it was almost like she was just a part of it. She knew what was happening. She was a proud Marine.
—Navy Corpsman Bob “Doc” Rogers
With the cease-fire, the 2nd Battalion took a new position, moving from the Panmunjom Corridor to the Imjin River. Reckless spent her days stringing communications wire. Life was good, though some of Reckless’s friends began heading home.
The first to go was Colonel Andrew Geer, commander of the 2nd Battalion, 5th Marines, who thought she “displayed attributes and intelligence never before seen in an animal.”1 He knew what a great story Reckless was, steered journalists her way, inter
viewed everyone connected with her, and took copious notes. “From the day I joined the 5th Marines to command the 2nd Battalion, I knew I would one day write about this little red horse.”2 He also tracked down Kim Huk Moon for his side of the story.
Latham told Geer he was worried about what would happen to Reckless when everyone went home. Because her name was not on any rotation list, presumably she would be left behind in Korea. Latham was haunted by thoughts of her becoming a broken down carthorse. Geer promised Latham and Lieutenant Riley he’d do everything possible to get Reckless to American soil.
The night before Geer left, Latham, Riley (who was being transferred to Fox Company), and Reckless took him to say goodbye to the various units. Reckless acted as one of the guys, drinking beer and posing for pictures. “She’d put out her left lip,” Latham recalled, “and the colonel would mix her a drink. He’d pour it in her and she’d never drop a drop. We sure got a kick out of her.”3
“You know, Colonel,” Riley said, “Reckless has forgotten she’s a horse.”4
By the time they returned to camp it was late, but they raided the mess tent anyway for old times’ sake. Reckless drank a cup of coffee and scarfed down peanut butter sandwiches; the others settled for Spam sandwiches.
Col. Andrew Geer pours Reckless a beer as he says good-bye to the men in his unit. Camp Pendleton Archives
Reckless provoked wild laughter as she struggled vainly with her tongue to scrape peanut butter off the roof of her mouth. The more she scrunched up her face trying to sweep her palate clean, the more the men roared. A second cup of coffee helped a little, but not much.5
The next day, both Geer and Reckless paid the price for too much celebration; both visited the unit surgeon for help with hangovers.
A General in Her Corner
Next to say goodbye were Latham and Coleman, in October. Latham had been hoping to take the young orphan Jimmy Lee back to the states with him. Circumstances prevented that, so he arranged for Jimmy to live with a family near the base, which meant the platoon could help look after him and Jimmy could help look after Reckless. Many of Latham’s worries about Reckless had been alleviated because Major General Randolph Pate made her well-being a priority. Lieutenant William McManus, who relieved Riley, put it best: “The surest way I know of getting locked up is to have the general find her bunker dirty and Reckless unhappy.”6
New People Toss Out the Old Rules
Reckless quickly and easily made new friends. Yet with the arrival of newcomers, many of the “rules” regarding Reckless gradually gave way. Marines began riding her at will, even guarding her at night instead of allowing her free rein around camp.
“Reckless had her quarters, a small shed with a small fence around it,” Private John Newsom of the Anti-Tank Platoon recalled, “and at night, it was cold as all get out (felt like 20 or 30 below!) and people had guard duty. Word was out that she might be kidnapped for food. We didn’t know who would kidnap her; only that it might happen—and after all she’d done, we couldn’t let that happen on our watch. Every night we had to stand guard on her, four hours per man. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t more than a hundred feet from our tents; we still had to do our watch duty. We would put her blankets around her and [she] would be all bundled up. She’d have full run of the place during the day, but at night we’d have to guard her.”7
Corporals Paul Hammersley and Quentin Seidel more or less adopted Reckless when they joined the platoon. Both had been raised on farms and ranches and knew a lot about horses. Reckless took a particular shine to Hammersley.
“It was lonesome sometimes walking guard duty,” he recalled. “We had to walk guard over our Command Post and it could be dangerous, too, because the Koreans were just over on their outpost a few thousand feet from us and you couldn’t have good enough ears—and we knew Reckless had good ears. So I’d coax her sometimes with a little pogey bait and she was just happy to walk along with me, to walk guard duty in the middle of the night. And it was very comforting to have a companion like that with you. She was also a very neat little lady. She would just walk in and out of your tent and never make a mess. She was just so sweet. She loved to be petted—just like a dog or cat—and she never resisted. But the fun thing about Reckless was you could jump on her and ride her at will.”8
It became Corporal Quentin Seidel’s job to “doctor up” Reckless after she cut her head and ear on barbed wire fencing.
“I can’t say how she cut it or where she cut it,” he recalled, “but she needed stitches and I had to take care of her. When she cut herself, I was the only farm boy in the crew that had any idea what to do. So I went down to First Aid because back on the farm we would use sulfa powder when we treated cuts on livestock on the farm. And I asked the doctor for some sulfa powder and he wondered . . . why was I looking for that? And I told him that Reckless had been cut and needed doctoring.”
The old rules give way: one corporal astride another as Paul Hammersley rides Reckless, something unthinkable only months earlier. Paul Hammersley
Seidel said the doctor became irate. “And he said, ‘I’m a person doctor, not a horse doctor.’ When I told him I was going to do it,” Seidel remembered, “he gave me a whole big bottle of sulfa tablets and I took them along with needles and thread and whatnot that they used in operations and stuff. He gave me all that I needed to stitch her up.
“I took the sulfa tablets back to my tent and mashed them up so I could get the powder out of them and then we just took her and tied her down so she would hold still and I started sewing her ear up. I sewed it all the way up and tied it off and we wrapped bandages around it as you see in the pictures.
“So she was running around there for the longest time with bandages all wrapped around her ear and her head. And she would go from one person to another and get sympathy here and sympathy there. Just like a spoiled kid.
“They were the kind of stitches that dissolved normally, so we just took the wrapping off after it healed together. And then she had a little notch on the top of the ear that I should’ve taken one more stitch and then her ear would’ve been complete, but she ended up with one ear with the notch on the top of it.”9
Paul Hammersley (back facing out) lets Reckless out of the back of the truck to get stitches. Quentin Seidel
Reckless is held down while Quentin Seidel stitches up her cut ear. Paul Hammersley
Cpl. Quentin Seidel’s lack of a medical (or even veterinary) degree didn’t stop him from successfully stitching up Sgt. Reckless’s badly cut head and ear following an encounter with barbed wire fencing. Quentin Seidel
Baby Needs New Shoes—Again
Only a few months had passed since Latham and Jimmy had taken Reckless shoe shopping, and already she needed a new set and her hooves trimmed. After getting the okay from their sergeant, Corporals Seidel and Hammersley did the honors this time.
“We loaded Reckless in a trailer,” Hammersley said, “which wasn’t very high and didn’t have sides on it and we took her to Seoul to try to find someone to shoe her. We found a Korean person, but she did not like him. Not one bit. And she just flattened her ears back and showed her teeth and she was ready to bite him or kick him, either one. And she would not let him even touch her.
“So we talked to him a little bit, and he didn’t understand English, and we didn’t understand Korean, but we all understood that she needed to go someplace else. And he was sure happy that she was going someplace else.”
But when they found a second blacksmith, Reckless “didn’t like him much either. But we held her head and petted her and he trimmed her and put shoes on her,” Hammersley said. Maybe Reckless changed her mind about the second blacksmith. Or maybe she was just happy when he finished because as the corporals walked her to her trailer, Reckless flashed her old showboating self:
“She just jumped on and rode like a dog would, with her mane just flowing in the wind and her head up high. And when we got back she just jumped off. I don’t even know if we put
a halter on her to tell you the truth. She was quite some little horse.”10
Just One of the Guys
In the early spring of 1954, Navy Corpsman Robert “Doc” Rogers of “Baker” Co, 1st Bn, 5th Marines, had temporary duty as a corpsman with the Anti-Tank Platoon. He learned quickly how special Reckless was and how much fun the platoon had with her: “I heard stories about the guys. Marines would come in drunk off of liberty and they’d go down and say, ‘Let’s go down and let Reckless out.’ And they’d do it—just to see what trouble she’d get into.”
But what Doc Rogers remembered most fondly was how she fit in as one of the guys—and the lengths to which they’d go to protect her.
“Sometimes the guys would be standing around talking and she’d walk right up to us and just stand there. And somebody would be talking and she would look at him. And the other guy would start talking and she’d look at him. And another guy would talk and she’d look at him.
Paul Hammersley shows the special bond he had with Reckless. Paul Hammersley
Leroy Struble also steals a little nuzzle. Paul Hammersley
Paul Hammersley and an unidentified Marine show Reckless some affection. Paul Hammersley
“It was like, ‘Hey, I’m a Marine. I’m one of you.’ She had the right-of-way in that compound and she knew it, too.
“One night a bunch of us were all standing around in a circle, talking. There was a Marine lieutenant there. Lieutenant Louie was his name and he was of Chinese ancestry. And while we were talking, Reckless came up behind this one soldier and muzzled the back of this guy’s neck. Nipped him on the back of his neck. It scared him half to death and he screamed, ‘What the f---!’ and jumped and turned around. And he’s right face to face with Reckless, and shouted, ‘Get that motherf——— nag out of here!’