Korean Winter

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Korean Winter Page 25

by Griff Hosker


  “Campbell, Haynes, Entwhistle, Moore and Corporal Dixon, you will be with me. I want us hidden as close as we can get to the anti-tank guns. That means we occupy both sides of the road. We need to be in position in the next five minutes. When Lofting opens fire with his rifle then hurl grenades into the gun emplacements. Lieutenant Morrison, you and the rest of the men will use small arms to shred the enemy. Ashcroft, as soon as you hear the grenades then send for the cavalry.” I smiled, “Quite literally! And when the Glosters arrive have them support Lieutenant Morrison.”

  “Sir!”

  “Now move!”

  I tapped Haynes and Campbell on the shoulder. They would be with me. I glanced at my watch. It was 0445. The Chinese and North Koreans would be sounding reveille soon and I wanted the attack to begin before then.

  The sentries were still talking and they must have thought the allies were many miles hence. I pointed to my left. I knew that Lofting was hidden there and Corporal Dixon took his two men to the other side of the crossing. I had my pistol out and I had it aimed at the four sentries. They were shadows and more than thirty yards from me but I hoped I could drop at least two and that would give us a chance. When my men were hidden, I dropped down between Lofting and Campbell. I took a bead on the sentry to the left. I said, “Whenever you are ready, Marine!” He would be the trigger which set off this ambush. When I heard the breath escape from his mouth, I squeezed off the first bullet from my Colt. The crack of the Lee Enfield sounded deafening. Even as I squeezed the trigger a second time, I heard the sound of the detonators on the grenades springing in the air. My second shot and Lofting’s cleared the sentries. A head appeared from behind the sandbags guarding one of the antitank guns. Lofting hit him. I laid down my Colt and took the pin out of a grenade. Haynes and Campbell had already hurled theirs and as soon as mine was thrown I dropped down.

  All along the river, I heard the sound of grenades exploding and then the sound of our Bren guns, Thompsons and rifles as they shredded the undergrowth. The mortar’s whump was reassuring and when I heard the sounds of explosions further back from the river then I knew that the two rifle grenades were enjoying some success. Far in the distance, I heard the unmistakable sound of the Rolls Royce engines in the Centurions as they lumbered down the road at a sedate twenty miles an hour. They would not be quick in getting here. I hurled another two grenades in quick succession. Corporal Dixon had been even luckier. One of their grenades had managed to set off the ammunition for there was a huge explosion.

  “Open fire with everything you have!”

  I picked up my Thompson and fired blindly across the river. I knew there had to be Chinese racing to face this latest threat. We had to keep firing as long as possible to give the tanks the chance to arrive. I heard the sound of the 84 mm gun as Captain Ormrod announced that he was close by firing a shell behind the ford. The effect was dramatic. We heard the trumpets sound. This time they did not herald a charge but a retreat. We kept firing until the lead Centurion appeared and majestically sailed across the ford. We had taken our objective and we had made the Kansas line! Soon we would be able to go home.

  Chapter 18

  General Ridgeway did intend, eventually, to advance further north but the main aim of this advance had been to secure a defensive line which was north of the old border and to allow the pockets of resistance behind us to be mopped up. He was a cautious man and we were told to dig in. Brigadier Brodie himself organised the positions. We had a twelve-mile front to guard. The Belgian contingent was given the most hazardous duty as they were north of the river at a place called Hill 194. The Glosters were a mile east of the South Korean 1st Division and a mile from the ford. They had a good position, overlooking it. Two miles to their east came the Northumberland Fusiliers and the Ulster Rifles were our reserve, guarding the important Route 11. The 25 pounders and 4.2 mortars of the Royal Artillery gave support and the tanks under the command of Captain Ormrod were our mobile support.

  “And what about us, sir? Where do you want us?”

  The Brigadier smiled, “You have done your bit, Major, and, besides, I expect you to be rotated soon enough. The last message I had was that you were to be sent back to Seoul at the start of May. There are more units due to arrive then and you can be relieved. You have just three or four weeks left here. You and your men can bivouac here with the Headquarters unit and the Rifles.”

  I confess that it felt like something of an anti-climax. It was as though our war had just petered out. It would have been better if they had just sent us back to Seoul but my unit had been something of a lucky charm and the other officers were keen for us to stay.

  Major Huth was recalled from Japan to take command of the single squadron of tanks. Captain Ormrod’s independent command was over but I think the one-eyed veteran was happy for someone else to take command.

  Life in the new camp was the easiest we had had since we had been in Korea. For one thing, the weather had improved. The Korean winter was over. It would never be what one considered balmy but it was pleasant and we did not need to move around encumbered with greatcoats, mittens and as many layers of clothes as we could manage. We were issued, a week after we had driven the enemy from the river, with new uniforms. They came with a delivery of much overdue mail. It had chased us around Korea and now that we were, albeit temporarily, settled it had finally reached us. That was what we all thought of as a good day. With clean uniforms and a sunny day, we sat outside our tents and read and re-read our mail from home. Little Samuel had apparently had a growth spurt and William and Izzy were finding him a handful. Reading between the lines I deduced that Susan was too; she wanted me home. When I read the letters from Mum, I discovered that Mum and Dad were spending more time at my home than their own. I was lucky to have them and I knew it.

  Lieutenant Morrison was the one who appeared most disturbed by his mail. He had a letter from his brother and discovered that the Arab states and Palestinian guerrillas were making life hard for the settlers. I noticed his agitation for he smoked more heavily than normal. “The thing is, sir, since we had our little talk, I have sort of committed myself, at least inside my head, into resigning my commission and joining my brother. While we were doing something useful it was easy but knowing that we are just waiting here to be sent home makes me impatient.”

  I nodded, “Listen, how about I put in a call to Captain Warwick. He is the only name I have but he might be able to expedite your return to England. You are quite right. We are in reserve here and if you are unhappy then we can solve that.”

  He shook his head but his eyes told me he wished me to make the call, “I don't want to make a fuss, sir.”

  “And you aren’t. I am also frustrated to be sitting idly by when I am not needed.”

  I used the radio at Headquarters and left a message for Captain Warwick. While we waited for a reply, we watched the vapour trails of jets heading north to bomb North Korea and were reassured by the sorties carried out by the USAAF. After the tribulations of the New Year offensive and a winter war, we seemed, finally, to have some sort of stability.

  It was in the third week of April when Captain Warwick finally sent a message back. Lieutenant Morrison could head back to Seoul on the 23rd of April. Sergeant Major Thorpe was also allowed to return early and take a well-deserved retirement. We planned a party to celebrate and we held it on the 21st of April. The only alcohol we had was our beer ration but that did not matter. The men had saved their ration so that they could enjoy the party and everyone was in good humour. During the late afternoon, they had contests and games. There was a tug of war and three-legged races. It was like a children’s party really. After we had eaten, Harris led them in a sing song. He had a good voice and the men enjoyed singing. This was almost like a goodbye party for the Commandos as, when the Lieutenant and the Sergeant Major had left, we would be following. I saw men exchanging addresses. When the regulars returned to Blighty the likelihood was that they would be separated; we all knew how the m
ilitary worked.

  Marine Lofting joined me, “Sir, I will clean your rifle and sight and return it to you. It has been a good weapon.”

  I shook my head, “You keep it, John. I doubt that I shall ever need it again. You are a far better shot than I ever was and it will be something to keep after you have left the service.” He nodded absentmindedly. “Or are you going to re-enlist?”

  He shook his head, “No, sir, I have got the need for adventure purged from my system and I shall follow my dad’s footsteps and become a gamekeeper. He is getting on and I know that his lordship would like someone to take over. When I get back, I can give them both a date so that they can plan.”

  And so, like every other marine, we made plans. Mine were just to spend time with my three children. The company could run itself and they would not need me, although I would still fly for I enjoyed being a pilot. I knew that Dad would not mind. He always put family before the company. In his eyes, the company was just there to make us comfortable and to give us an income. However, as Robbie Burns had once written, ‘The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men oft gang aft a-gley’. That was certainly true of us for, what we did not know as we went to bed on the 22nd of April, preparing to say goodbye to two of our own was that there were three Chinese armies totalling seven hundred thousand men about to launch their Spring Offensive.

  We were all in our beds when the Chinese artillery began to open fire and, in the distance, we heard the trumpets and gongs which inevitably marked a Chinese attack. We needed no bugle to make us leap from our beds. We were one of the few units in the 29th Brigade which had experienced a Chinese attack and we were dressed and armed before any others.

  “Lieutenant Morrison, organise the men and I will go to the Brigadier.”

  “Sir!” He grinned, “I am guessing I won’t be leaving tomorrow as we had planned!”

  The Brigadier was half-dressed as were most of his officers. He gave me a wan smile, “You know something we didn’t Major?”

  “Let us just say, sir, that I have experienced a Chinese attack before and know how to dress quickly.”

  He nodded, “Well, Captain Tucker, report.”

  Captain Tucker was the only officer fully dressed as he had been the duty officer. In the time it had taken me to dress he had been on the radio. “The Chinese have attacked along the whole front. They have caught us, sir, with our trousers down. The Belgians, Fusiliers and Glosters are all under attack. Their sentries were killed in the first attack. I am sending a Philippine Combat team to go to the aid of the Glosters. Even the cooks are going to have to fight!”

  The Brigadier looked at the map and the positions. “Have Lieutenant-Colonel Crahay pull his Belgians back across the river. The Belgians and Luxembourgers are too exposed there. Ask Lieutenant Colonel Young to use his guns to support their withdrawal. Then I want Major Huth to bring the Hussars up closer to the front. When we have daylight and a better idea of the opposition, I want options. Major Rickford, Major Harsker, your two units are our only reserve. Have your men ready to move out as soon as possible.”

  I nodded, “Mine are ready, sir, and we have the two half-tracks!”

  “Good, then when we see what is what I will send you out first. Wait at your vehicles, Major.”

  The Lieutenant and Sergeant Major Thorpe had organised the men and were waiting for me. To the north, we could hear the fighting. The Northumberland Fusiliers were the closest to us and we could hear the small arms fire.

  “The Chinese have attacked down the line. We are being used to help those units in the greatest danger. Have the two Brownings brought from the jeeps and fitted to the half-tracks. We are using those only.”

  Sergeant Major Thorpe said, “They will be a little crowded, sir.”

  “Can’t be helped, Sergeant Major. The jeeps are just too vulnerable. Besides, we won’t be fighting in them. They will be mobile forts and we will use them just to get where we are needed. Ashcroft, we need you to be on the radio and in constant touch with Headquarters.”

  “Sir!”

  It was daylight before we received our orders and they were dramatic ones. The Belgian Contingent was trying to fight their way back across the river and the Fusiliers had already lost some of their forward positions. The only bright spot was that seventeen men of the Glosters had held off eighteen times their number at the ford we had secured.

  Captain Tucker, himself, brought us our orders, “Sir, the Brigadier wants you to get to the river and cover the withdrawal of the Belgians. They are heavily pressed and have already lost three of their vehicles. When you have them safe then the Brigadier wants you to join the Fusiliers; they are going to try to head west. We are in danger of losing touch with the Glosters.”

  Debate and questions were irrelevant. We had to move and move quickly. We had three miles to cover to the river. Lieutenant Morrison commanded the other half-track with Sergeant Grant. I had divided the men equitably so that we both had a balance. Sergeant Major Thorpe would be my driver. The Lieutenant had one more man than I did. That was deliberate; I did not want him to be at risk on his last mission.

  We headed up Highway 11. To our left, we could hear the small arms fire of the Fusiliers. The Rifles were already hurrying to aid them. The 25 pounders kept up a steady barrage and they would slow down the enemy. I knew we would not have as much aerial support as we needed. This was an attack by three armies. We were one brigade in the midst of much larger armies. The fact that we held a crucial river crossing and a vital road were immaterial in the greater scheme of things. Ambulances were already racing down the highway towards headquarters bringing the casualties from the front. There was a makeshift hospital there and from the overloaded vehicles, they would soon be busy.

  Ashcroft shouted, “Sir, the Brigadier is sending a company of the Ulster Rifles to support us. They are in lorries on the road behind us. The Brigadier has suggested we use Hill 257. It overlooks both the road and the river!”

  “Head for it Sarn’t Major.” We led and Jake would simply follow us. We saw the first of the Belgian vehicles in the distance. They were under attack from the Chinese who were swarming all over them. They seemed to totally disregard the sheer number of bullets. Then I heard a flight of Sabres which raced in from the south and sprayed the ground beyond the Belgians. “Get up that slope! The aerial attack has bought the Belgians time.”

  Sergeant Major Thorpe pushed the half-track up the slope. His experience came to the fore as he chose the flattest area he could. It meant we had dead ground behind the half-tracks. Even as he swung us around, I was shouting orders. “Set up the mortar and rifle grenades. I want this side of the river to become a killing ground. Gunners, your target is any Chinese you can see beyond the Belgians. The rest of you spread out along the slope. Lofting, you know what to do!”

  I stayed in the half-track with the gunners and Ashcroft. Lance Corporal Williams was on the heavy calibre Browning and Sergeant Major Thorpe was acting as the loader for our most powerful weapon. The Brownings from the jeeps would also add to the firepower at our disposal.

  “Yes, sir!”

  The Sabres had raced off home, their ammunition depleted. The twenty-five pounders were still firing but they were merely slowing down the seemingly endless wave of Chinese troops. Brigadier Brodie had told us that in our sector it was only the Chinese who were attacking. We had left the bazooka back at our camp as the Chinese were using men and not tanks to attack! The river was nine hundred yards from us and the road was less than two hundred.

  “Ashcroft, tell the artillery that they can now target the river. By the time they adjust the Belgians will be over it.”

  “Sir!”

  I knew that it was a risk but I could see the command jeep of the Belgians at the rear of the column of trucks; that marked the last of our men north of the river. We were impotent until the Chinese came a little closer. The leading vehicles were level with our position and I guessed that they were safe. The shells from the artillery began a rol
ling barrage which drew closer to the river. The gunners knew their job and the effect was dramatic. The Chinese who had been massing for another attack suddenly found huge holes in their lines. The command vehicle raced across the river and the column passed along the road. Just then the lorries of the Rifles appeared and they began to disgorge their men.

  I began to hope that we might have stabilised our lines when Ashcroft shouted, “Sir, the Chinese have got between the Fusiliers and the Glosters. They are threatening the road behind us!”

  I nodded. Ken Thorpe and I exchanged a look. We were in great danger now of being trapped. There were at least ten thousand men across the river and we had less than one hundred and fifty men to slow them down. There was little point in bemoaning our fate. I saw some of the younger lads look nervously at each other.

  Lance Corporal Williams asked, quietly, “Are we trapped, Sarn’t Major?”

  In answer, Sergeant Major Thorpe suddenly began to recite:

  When first under fire an' you're wishful to duck,

  Don't look nor take 'eed at the man that is struck,

  Be thankful you're livin', and trust to your luck

  And march to your front like a soldier.

  Front, front, front like a soldier . . .

  Lance Corporal Williams said, “What’s that, sir?”

  “Rudyard Kipling. It is a poem about a young soldier. It just shows that in over a hundred years war has not changed that much. He is saying that even when things look black you face your front and do your duty! That is all you can do”

  He said, quietly, “I will fight, sir, but I don’t want to die!”

  Ken Thorpe was a grandfather and his voice had a reassuring quality about it, “None of us does, son, but worrying about it will make it likelier that it will happen. It is a long way off that yet!”

  “Sir, they are in range of the mortars and rifle grenades.”

  I looked and saw that thin lines of Chinese soldiers were now racing across the river. “Wait until there is a large block of them. We can deal with the others using our small arms.”

 

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