2:43 | Chinese artillery was zeroed in on the road. The only way you could make it was to floor it and not stop. Sinclair Stickle was in a truck barreling down that road when the shells started. What happened next made him think he'd had it, but the closest he ever came to dying in Korea occurred in a jeep and he wasn't even in combat.
Keywords : Sinclair Stickle Korea Chinese artillery fire Jeep
With an eye toward the GI Bill, Sinclair Stickle decided to enlist, but he found out that if he volunteered for the draft, it would be a two year commitment instead of four. He entered the Army as a draftee and figured he would have a nice easy tour in Germany because surely the Korean War will be over soon. The drill instructors didn't think so.
Going into Inchon, Sinclair Stickle had to board an LST and land on the beach. This time, it was peaceful. After some culture shock, he headed for the front in the area known as the Iron Triangle. He was assigned to the I&R platoon, intelligence and reconnaissance. This involved night patrols into the enemy lines.
Beside night patrols, the I&R platoon also maintained a listening post on high ground. Sinclair Stickle sometimes manned this post, observing and reporting and acting as a forward observer for artillery, as well. There were other tasks, like the grim job of picking up the enemy dead. There came a time when he and his buddy were laughing while doing this, an amazing juxtaposition of humor and horror. (Caution: Graphic Material)
Sinclair Stickle had convinced himself that the Chinese artillery fire would never zero in fast enough to get him, then he saw a first round take out several GIs. His new outlook became one of fatalism. He had no great fear, but he thought he wouldn't make it out alive. One surprising thing, the draftees in his unit did not shirk at all. They got the job done, even though they didn't want to be there.
Sinclair Stickle shares his method for making sure his gun did not jam in a firefight. A little drop of oil. He barely noticed the weather since the winter of 1953 was nothing like the winter of 1950 in the mountains of Korea. Food was a big deal and everybody gathered around when someone got a package from home, hopefully with something nice to offset the WWII era rations.
Others in the 3rd Division had it worse than Sinclair Stickle, he says. He describes two battles that were intensely fought; the Battle of Boomerang and Outpost Harry.
The unit had just moved into reserve position when the order came to move out. They were going back on line in support in case of a Chinese attack. The platoon leader said they were going deep behind enemy lines on patrol soon, but then the armistice was signed and it was over. For Sinclair Stickle, the time between that and his discharge was worse than the war.
The lines were static during Fred Culbreth's time in Korea. There wasn't much movement in battle but the combat engineer was kept busy building and maintaining the many temporary bridges necessary to move men and materials around a country full of hills and rivers.
During his second tour in Korea, the goal was to take a prisoner for intelligence gathering. Jake Jacobson recalls that they didn't get a single one. He did encounter a Pathfinder unit and they encouraged him to transfer in. This he did, but, unfortunately, he got in some trouble and General Westmoreland made sure he was left with only one stripe.
As company clerk, John Meyers had several responsibilities, the captain's morning report, letters home to parents of men killed in action and writing up awards recommendations. He wrote up the recommendation for Charles Gilliland, a seventeen year old, whose heroic actions made him the youngest soldier to receive the Medal Of Honor in the Korean War.
Ben Malcom recalls a mission to infiltrate and destroy a 76mm gun hidden inside a North Korean mountain. During the cover of night on July 14, 1952, Malcom managed to sneak 120 guerilla fighters onto the mountain and into the bunker, and describes the combat that ensued.
When it was time to act, Bill Minnich came through. On a night watch, as he caught sight of a Chinese patrol, the only question was, rifle or grenade? When the unit was pinned down and no one responded to the order to move out, he cussed them all out and charged forward. And when he fell wounded, it was a sure thing that he would get up and scramble through the bullets landing at his feet.
Ron Clark remembers when the Chinese would attack and how the strategies between American and Chinese differed. He also explains one detailed account of an American casualty during battle and his own major injury that permanently disabled his eyesight.
It was called Hill 205. The small Ranger company was told to take and hold the hill. They did that as long as they could but Ralph Puckett and his men had to go through hell to do it. Waves of Chinese attackers had him calling in very close artillery strikes. He lay there, unable to move after three wounds, watching the Chinese bayonet wounded Rangers. Then two figures charged up the hill. For his actions in this battle, he would be awarded the Medal of Honor.
Born in the Bronx but raised in Rhode Island, Jake Jacobson enlisted in the late forties to get money for college. When he saw some guys from the 82nd Airborne, he knew he had to get into that outfit. He hadn't even been to basic training, yet, so they let him go. When he did get to Fort Dix, he was disgusted. Hang in there, his platoon sergeant told him. It gets better in Airborne.
Jim Bolan was attached to the Marines for a while as a sniper. He used an M-1 for the closer stuff but for anything really distant, he used his own rifle that his father had sent to him. Then a general got a look at it. Son, that's an illegal weapon.
Jake Jacobson was just getting discharged when war broke out in Korea. His paratrooper buddies shamed him into returning to the fold, even though he would have to come back in as a private. When he got to Korea, peace talks had stalled the fighting and he was sent to Japan, where he attended intelligence school. He did get some action quelling a riot at a POW camp.
The severity of the winter weather during the Korean War was over exaggerated, according to Jim Larkin. He suffered from it at times but combat keeps your mind on more immediate concerns. He also scoffs at criticism of the weapon he carried, the M-1 rifle.
Chesty Puller was already a legend when Jim Bolan met him in Korea. It wasn't long after that that he stood on the bank of the Yalu River and it wasn't long after that there was a long retreat back down the peninsula. He had some good friends there, including one who earned the Medal of Honor and one who maybe should have.
He never had to engage the enemy, but combat engineer Fred Culbreth did experience artillery barrages while working on gun emplacements in the Korean hills. He didn't know it at the time, but it damaged his hearing, as did his own rock blasting work.
He was a good football player, having played semi-pro while still in high school. JIm Bolan didn't stop there, he played once he was in the Army and went to the 82nd Airborne to do just that. Someone else got that slot, though, so he went to Korea, where it was bunker battles on static lines.
For seventeen year old Jim Larkin, what he found after he came ashore at Inchon was fascinating. The novelty of Asia soon wore off since there was a war to fight, but he discovered that the Koreans are a humble and polite people. It's not a bad way to be.
A bridge was washed out on his route, but Fred Culbreth didn't want to waste hours on the detour. He knew that there were rocks and a hand cable at a certain point, so he plotted a route on the map and headed for the spot. When he saw that the ford was flooded, he decided to go for it, anyway.
Two interesting things happened to Jim Bolan in Korea. One night, after his shift in the command post ended, he was walking on a slippery steep hill when he lost his footing and down he went. What happened then was memorable. The other thing involved the failure to capture a Chinese soldier after two weeks of trying. He and his buddy decided to give it a try on their own. (Caution: rough language.)
Korean civilians were filtering back into areas which had recently seen combat. Engineering officer Fred Culbreth engaged in a strange interplay with one farmer. Every day, his men would have to move a homemade irrigation line to work on a bridge and, every night, the farmer would rebuild it.
The terrain out in front of the main line of resistance seemed like ten thousands yards of emptiness. Jim Larkin was waiting on his relief after five days at his post. The Marine who relieved him was an upbeat guy who would laugh at the Chinese machine guns. Part 1 of 2.
In an engineering unit, you had access to all kinds of things that other units needed and couldn't really get. Combat engineer Fred Culbreth made sure to collect plenty of plywood from his supply depots. You could get almost anything for plywood, including warmer boots, which were a big deal in Korea.
Jim Larkin had one overriding thought during Marine boot camp at Parris Island. He couldn't get out of there fast enough. One drill instructor in particular seemed to embody the obstacles to doing so. Later on, he understood the importance of the lessons learned there.
Radio technician Norman Kling came ashore in Korea, briefly looked over a battered city, and hit the road in a truck. He began following the front as it moved around the peninsula. He wasn't in a combat role but he did singe off his eyebrows at one point.
His father fought in WWI and he was too young for service in WWII. That may be why Fred Culbreth felt determined to attend a military school like the Citadel. He wanted the military experience but he didn't have a war. Then he got one in 1950.