Korean Winter Read online

  When I entered the quarters, I found the Lieutenant cleaning his gun.

  “Gather the NCOs and men in the men’s mess. I have news for them.”

  We had used the upstairs of one of the buildings as a mess. For one thing, it was warmer and it was also large as the internal wall had just been made of lath which we had removed. We could all squeeze in. I did not sugar the pill but told them what I had been told. I outlined my plans so that they would all know the ultimate goal.

  Sergeant Grant said, “We are the rearguard then sir? Just us?”

  “Probably.” He nodded. He just wanted clarification. I had my pipe going, “I was in the retreat to Dunkirk. This will not be like that as the Americans are already building a second line of defence south of here. Winter is here already and that will slow down the advance but be under no illusions there are two hundred thousand Chinese troops already in North Korea and they have more than a million just waiting to follow. We will need all the ammunition we can muster and then some. We use the strengths of this building and the fact that we are in a perfect place to ambush the enemy. Trucks will bring our extra gear but I want you to bring it inside before we unpack it. The North Koreans will have spies and I don’t want them to know what we are about. Lieutenant, when you and the Lance Corporal plant the explosives in the rubble you will do so at night. Right, if there are no questions then I will have a short meeting with the NCOs and we knuckle down to some work.”

  As the men were leaving, Lance Corporal Pike asked, “And when do we expect them, sir?”

  “That, my friend, is the unanswerable question. It could be tomorrow or it could be in two months. It depends on how much they are held up on their drive south so the sooner we are done the better.”

  Once the men had gone, I said, “Sergeant Grant, I want an opening making at the north end of the gable end. I want a Browning there and, when I get them, a bazooka. Corporal Dixon, we will use the north yard for the mortars. They will be hidden and we can use a spotter to give them fall of shot. We need every distance marking on paper so that when we fire, we know what we will hit. This is a static position and we can prepare. I want firing slits in the rooves of the attics. We have little enough going for us, let’s use what we have. Lieutenant, you take charge, I want to see Ji-hoo. I think he may prove useful.”

  He was at his stall and, as usual, it was busy. He saw me and bent to speak with one of his helpers. He sidled over to me and lit a cigarette. He did it so adeptly you would never have known that he had only lost one arm months ago. “It is not the day you normally come to market and I am guessing that you are not here to buy food.”

  “You are right.”

  “Then this must be about the news you received from the General this morning.” My mouth opened involuntarily. He shrugged, “You should not be surprised for there are many of our people who work on the base.”

  I nodded, “And that is why I need your help. There may be North Korean spies.”

  “Undoubtedly there are.”

  “And can you do something about them?”

  “Probably but I am unarmed.” A sly look came over his face. “Now if we had weapons then…”

  I knew what he wanted but it was taking a huge risk. “Suppose I could get you some weapons; what then?”

  “Then the threat of a North Korean spy knowing what you are doing would disappear.”

  “Come to the house tonight, after dark.”

  “Of course.”

  I would let them have some of the captured North Korean handguns. We had limited ammunition for them anyway. If Ji-hoo was discovered with them then it could not be traced back to the Allied army. Once I had seen him, I felt better. I never saw his watchers but I knew they were there. We did not miss the North Korean weapons and when the Americans left he would be the resistance against the invaders.

  We worked hard right up until Christmas and each day we expected an attack which did not materialise. The retreating United Nations forces were making it hard for the Chinese to make the rapid gains they had in the summer. The wintery conditions aided our forces. From what we heard, when we ate meals at the base, the Chinese were using the sheer weight of numbers to overwhelm positions and, more ominously, Russian fighters were now involved. The allied pilots were still superior to the enemy and bringing down more of their aeroplanes but my father had told me that in aerial combat a good pilot could still be brought down by a lucky shot from a bad pilot or, as in the case of the Red Baron, a fluke rifle bullet from the ground. One such bullet had driven off the Russian MiG when it had attacked us. We now had two bazookas and Carter and Collins operated those. We had spare Bren guns as we now had the Browning 50 Calibre. For the first time, we had serious firepower. We also had plenty of ammunition and explosives.

  When Christmas Day came, we took our first day off. Of course, if the Chinese had been clever, they would have chosen that day to attack although some of the Allied forces were not Christian and did not adhere to the Christian traditions; the Thai and Turkish elements would not celebrate. It was, however, a muted celebration. MacArthur’s much-publicised plan, Operation Home for Christmas, had failed and the truckloads of wounded troops who passed through Seoul was a testament to that failure. The bright spot was the appointment of General Ridgeway to the 8th Army. I had liked him and his words. With him, it was all about the plan and not the ego.

  I dined with the Colonel and his officers. The base was now ringed by heavy and light guns and sandbags. The garrison walked around with helmets and even in the offices, the admin staff kept their helmets and guns close by.

  I drank sparingly and enjoyed the wine, which was served, all the more for that. “Well, Colonel, the Chinese have missed a trick. Had they come today, then we would have been unprepared.”

  “I disagree, Major. We have men watching the north and the radar is constantly manned.”

  “But are the men prepared?” I waved the stem of my pipe around. Although the mood was muted the officers were drinking and eating as they would at home.

  He nodded, “Well, they didn’t come and the celebrations are over now.”

  “And New Year?”

  He looked appalled, “You think they might come then?”

  “If they don’t then they will have made a fundamental error. The days are now at their shortest and their gongs and trumpet tactic works best in the dark when soldiers are at a low ebb anyway. General Ridgeway is improving the morale of the 8th Army and fresh troops are arriving almost daily. Each day’s delay works to our advantage.” I stood, “My men and I will return to our camp. Everything is prepared and we constantly monitor the radio. As soon as you know anything…”

  “Don’t worry, Major, you will be the first to know.”

  As we walked back to our camp I wondered at the lack of tanks around the base. The American M46 Patton tank was superior to anything the Chinese and North Koreans had. The British Centurion was also a powerful tank. Even the Sherman could give a good account of itself. The Colonel had just four and they could be surrounded by fanatical troops and taken out. Not for the first time I wondered at the events which had led us to be brigaded with American forces.

  As we neared the houses, I saw the three figures wave and then disappear. Ji-hoo’s watchers were diligent. No matter what the weather they were always there. We had boarded up the front entrances to the houses and we used the back passages to gain entry; that way we would not be seen by an attacker. It was an old fashioned sally port. The wooden doors we had replaced were now backed by corrugated iron and braced with iron bars. If we had to leave in a hurry then we would find it easier to get out through the alleys which crisscrossed the rear of the line of buildings. While the Lieutenant checked the rest of the buildings, I went up to the new gun position at the north gable. I saw Sergeant Major Thorpe leading the rest of the men down the hill. They marched and showed that they, too, had drunk sparingly. I waited until the duty NCO came up to relieve me before I left. Corporal Lowery was in com
mand. Each night we had four men on watch; one of the men would listen to the radio. I did not want us to be caught with our trousers down.

  The Lieutenant was reading. After I had washed, I picked up the letters which had arrived three days earlier. The Allied Postal Service had realised the morale-boosting effects of mail. I had a hand made Christmas card from Izzy, Sam and William. I ran my hands over it as though I was, somehow, feeling them make the card. Then I re-read the letters from Susan and my mother. Dad was not the greatest letter writer. England was a month behind the war here and they were still reading about MacArthur’s advances to the north. The letters spoke of my imminent arrival home. By now they should know the truth for I had written to them just after Thanksgiving and warned them not to believe all that they read. That done I folded the letters and put them in my battledress pocket. The card I propped up on the wooden crate which served as a night table. I kissed the card and said, “Goodnight, kids. Daddy will be home as soon as he can.” I had been away for just over half a year and I knew that I would have missed so much. Depressingly I could not see me getting home any time soon. I wondered if Major Poulson had made it home in time for Christmas or was he stuck in some hospital? At least he was out of it.

  The next day Ji-hoo came after dark. We had given him guns and he was a happy man. He had a piece of cloth which looked bloody, “We found one of your North Korean spies. He told us of two others.” He removed the cloth and I saw the head of the North Korean spy. “We will leave this close to the place we suspect the other spies gather. Soon they will all be dead.”

  If I thought our war was vicious it was nothing compared with that of Ji-hoo and the North Korean spies.

  The weather which had been wet became colder. Sergeant Major Thorpe, who had a nose for such things, predicted snow and thus far he had not been wrong. Certainly, the houses were becoming colder and we were lucky to have the oil drum fires and braziers to keep us warm. The snow began to lie on New Year’s Eve. Normally we would have celebrated. In England, people would be first footing. All past ills would be forgotten and doors would be open to allow complete strangers in to partake of a nip of whisky or rum. Many would still carry a lump of coal, a sign of good luck and the old year would be swept away when the back door was opened. Even in wartime, it had still been celebrated but not this year. We all went to bed at the normal time. I had volunteered to be duty officer that night. The others protested but, in truth, I wanted to. I had Ashcroft, Williams, Harris and Bates as my team. Ashcroft fiddled on with the radio. He was less than happy that others operated ‘his’ radio and he would grumble on about the state in which it had been left.

  “They all fiddle with the dial, sir, and there is no need! I mean the base is not going to change the frequency, is it, sir? They all like to think they can be radio operators! It is all very well monitoring signals, sir, but using it? That is the real test!”

  We all let him chunter on. It was his way and it kept him occupied.

  “Lance Corporal Williams, are you and the Lieutenant happy with the explosives across the road?”

  “Oh yes, sir. Until we attach the wires, they are safe as houses. We ran a channel between the cobbles and used a piece of pipe. It means the wires can’t be damaged by tanks and the like. As soon as we attach the wires, we hit the plunger and kaboom!” He mimed with his hands and Harris smiled. Williams had an endearing innocence about him and the whole of the section regarded him as a kid brother.

  The air was so cold that we could see our breath as we spoke. Here in the old loft, there was no heating and we wore our greatcoats, comforters, balaclavas and gloves. When we fought, we would have to take off some layers but until then we would keep as warm as we could. We had had hot cocoa an hour into the watch and that had helped. I wonder if Mr Flynn was still making stoker’s cocoa.

  Geoff Bates had been quiet since Sunchon. “It’s funny sir, if Allenby hadn’t hurt his ankle then he would be here and it would be me in that grave.”

  “That is a hard road to travel, Bates. If I dwelled on every time someone died or was wounded when it should have been me then I would be locked up in some sort of asylum. One of my first sergeants, Daddy Grant, had a way of explaining it. He said, ‘It is like God is playing dice but he doesn’t look at the roll. He just rolls and sometimes your number will come up and at others, you survive. Live your life for the man who died instead of you. Be the best at what you do.’”

  “That is not a bad idea, sir. I will do that. Poor Eddie would be dead no matter who was with him.” He rubbed his chin. “At least it was quick.”

  I saw Ashcroft start but before he could speak, I saw the sky light up to the north and heard the scream of 122 mm shells as the Chinese began their New Year Offensive.

  Ashcroft said, “Sir, it is the base! They are under attack! There are thousands of Chinese and North Koreans.

  “Right lads, time to wake the others up. Bates and Harris see to it. Williams, go and attach the wires. I want those explosives live!” We were about to feel the full force of an attack by almost two hundred thousand men. How long could we hold on?

  Chapter 12

  We had planned for this and there was no panic but the blind firing of the artillery shells was disconcerting. What had I said about the roll of the dice? The only protection we had was a double pile of sandbags. I took out my binoculars. The Chinese had a better view of the base than the city and already there were explosions from inside the compound. Had we still been in the tents then the odds were we would have been killed already.

  Ashcroft said, “The Chinese have tanks as well as thousands of infantrymen, sir. The radio operator sounds worried.”

  “They just need to do their job.” The trouble with the garrison was that they had not had any fighting to do and it now showed.

  Lieutenant Morrison climbed the ladder to our lofty eagle’s nest, “Everyone is in position and buttoned up. Lance Corporal Williams has wired up the explosives. We are good to go.”

  “Let us hope that they are not needed for a while.” I was not as certain as I sounded. There was a battalion of fighting men on the base and the rest were the equivalent of paper pushers. They knew one end of a gun from the other and that was about it. The handful of tanks they had were their only real defence. They certainly didn’t have the firepower of the Chinese. As if to make the point there was a huge explosion from the centre of the base and then the shells began to scream over our heads. They were changing target to the city and with all their guns. There were shelters but I was not certain how effective they would be.

  Harris had returned and he had good eyes, “Sir, I can see movement. It looks like the sea. My God, it is the Chinese; there is a sea of them!”

  They flooded down the road which led along the side of the base. I knew that Colonel Wilding had some machine gun pits there and suddenly the air was filled with the sound of twenty heavy machine guns. The fires burning in the base must have made the Chinese think that the base was about to fall but the Colonel’s clever strategy meant that hundreds of Chinese fell as they were mown down.

  “Do we open fire, sir?”

  “No one fires, Lieutenant, until I give the order. The minute we fire then they know where we are. We only fire when the base is about to fall and they need covering. The exception is Lofting.” Just then my sniper appeared. He had camouflage on his hands and face and he wore his comforter. The end of his rifle was wrapped in layers of black material. It would silence the gun slightly but we needed him to be able to mask his muzzle flash. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He lay down in the gable end opening. The Chinese had spread around the southern end of the base and were just two hundred yards from us. The end of his barrel rested on a piece of six by six. “Remember, you go for the officers and the sergeants. If you could get those men with the damned trumpets and gongs then it would help!”

  “Yes, sir.” He carefully placed a pile of clips next to him.

  I use
d my binoculars. The Chinese were wavering. They were fanatical but fanaticism only takes you so far. I saw an officer raise a sword. He was next to a soldier with a flag. It all looked medieval. The officer spun around as Lofting’s bullet took him. The Chinese were all watching the base and when the flag fell to my sniper’s next bullet the Chinese waved their fists at the Americans. The machine guns continued to scythe down the Chinese and I saw them begin to fall back. An officer who tried to rally them was hit by Lofting and that opened the flood gates. They streamed north. I knew they had vast numbers of men but I also knew the effect of demoralized troops. I had seen it in the Low Countries. Someone would have to rally the troops and that would buy the Colonel time. When dawn broke, he would be able to call in an airstrike. I could still hear the duel between the Chinese tanks and the Pattons. Behind us, the shells still fell on Seoul. We could not see the city from our vantage point but I knew that there would be fires and many people would die. Others would be fleeing south. The Americans had planned for this and there were Military Police at the various crossroads who would keep the road clear for the Americans when they retreated. The Colonel had told me that they could not hold on to Seoul; too many would die to hold on to something which had no strategic value. Pyongyang had fallen easily as had Seoul the first time. The Colonel was buying time for civilians and other troops to get south of the river and reach the UN lines. The defences south of Suwon were designed to stop men and tanks. Their artillery was massed to pound an enemy into dust. We were just making them bleed and to allow more units to be drafted in to strengthen the line.

  “Sir, the Colonel has sent a message. He says that as soon as it is daylight, they are going to send the first of the wounded south. He is calling in an airstrike.”