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  To my relief, all but the Corporal and Rafe Smith were at the CP. “Marine Fox, go and fetch the men watching the road. Well, Lieutenant?”

  The charges are set, sir. I used four timers. They will go off at five-minute intervals starting at 0505 hours. I thought that would guarantee an explosion. If the first one fails to detonate one of the others must. I didn’t fancy returning to see why they hadn’t gone off.”

  I saw the fear on his face. Had he made a mistake? I smiled, “Good thinking, Lieutenant. Now we have a thirty-minute hike to somewhere we can watch the fireworks. It will soon be dawn and I am not certain if they have a sky watch.” A sky watch was an aeroplane which patrolled. The last three men joined us and I pumped my arm and led them to the jumble of rocks. It did not take me as long as it had the first time as I knew where I was headed.

  “Fox, up on the top rock and you have first watch.”

  “Sir.” The West Countryman scrambled up the rock.

  I opened my Bergen and began to cut the cords from the parachute. The others saw me and copied my action. I did it to keep us all occupied. Waiting was hard enough but waiting for explosives to detonate was nerve-wracking. When the crack came from the south, it made us all start. The single crack was followed by the sound of artillery and tanks. The attack had begun. This would be well south of Pyonggang but soon there would be men heading from the north.

  “Fox, you had better come down. The air attack will start soon and night bombing is never as accurate as daylight bombing.” To be fair it was better than it had been and this would be dawn but a jet travelling at more than six hundred miles an hour can miss a target by a mile if the pilot makes the slightest of mistakes.

  The sound of combat grew and I looked at my watch. I heard the jets at 0455 as they screamed from the south. Sam Williams had found a crack in the rocks where he could see the road and he shouted, “Sir, I can see trucks coming from the north and a tank!”

  We could do nothing about this. We had set our charges to go off at the right time but the reinforcements might have passed the culvert before they exploded. Then we heard the bombs dropped from the aeroplanes as they exploded. I had my hands over my ears but some of the young lads had not. They would find it hard to hear for a while. The air attack lasted less than ten minutes and the Lieutenant’s strategy paid off. Sam was watching the road and his watch. He shouted above the noise of the bombs and the firing from the town, “The first timer has not exploded, sir, and the leading jeep is almost over the culvert, sir!”

  I saw a nervous Lieutenant staring at his watch as though he was willing the next detonator to explode. The last jet screamed away south and suddenly there was an explosion.

  An excited Sam Williams shouted, “The tank sir! We blew up a tank and the truck behind has caught fire and is in the crater.”

  “How many vehicles got across?”

  “A jeep and a truck sir. They have stopped and they are rushing back to help the others.”

  “Ashcroft, get on the radio and give them the code word. Smith, climb on the top and use the glasses, Williams has a restricted view.” I handed him my binoculars and he clambered up.

  It took him a minute or two to get up and focus the glasses. “There are three trucks and a second tank, sir. It looks like they are going to try to cross that stream. Hey up!” There was an enormous explosion.

  “What was that Smith?”

  “Looks like the ammunition in the damaged tank exploded, sir. The tank was a mess before but now it is destroyed and it looks like the shrapnel tore through the canvas of the trucks.”

  I felt relief. That meant just one truck, a GAZ and a tank had escaped. I should have known that our luck could not last. Perhaps Smith was careless and light reflected from my binoculars, I will never know but he said, “They have seen something. The tank is coming over here! Heads! The tank has fired!”

  We were now trapped. The truck and the tank might not get to Pyonggang but they would make do with us!

  Chapter 4

  Our little hidey-hole had now become a potential death trap and we had to get out quickly. “Everyone, get out!” We had no weapons capable of taking out a tank. Our only hope was to climb where the tank could not get us and then try to pick off the infantry as they attempted to winkle us out. “Climb up the slopes and find places to hide!”

  The tank’s gun fired again and its machine gun began to fire but they were firing blindly at our position. The ground was uneven and the bullets and tank shell flew into the air and smacked into the valley side. The men in this convoy were not veterans. I made certain that I was the last one out of the den. I took out two hand grenades and some of the parachute cord. My men had taken the natural route up the slope and I followed them; it looked like a path and I could use it. The bullets were still being fired wildly and I was confident that they would not hit me.

  “Hurry up, sir!”

  “Corporal, don’t worry about me. Get them under cover. It is the infantry we worry about.” I placed one grenade under a rock and tied some cord to its pin. I tied the other end to the pin of a second grenade and jammed that in a jumble of rocks on the other side. It was at boot height. Stepping over it, I took my Thompson and Bergen and raced up after my men. The infantrymen were now catching the tank and their bullets, as they stopped to fire, were more accurate. I saw that the Lieutenant and the Corporal had found some shelter behind a few large boulders. As I climbed the slope which was quite steep at this point, I shouted, “Marine Lofting, use the sniper rifle! Take out the officers and sergeants!”

  “Sir!”

  The .303 cracked and I heard a cry from below me. That was the difference between novices and veterans, Peter Davis would have already downed three or four! Gaining in confidence my sniper sent four more rapid rounds. Corporal Dixon shouted, “Right, lads, give the Major covering fire.” Bullets from the tank’s machine gun now grew closer to me. It had stopped and with a stable platform was more accurate. I looked up and saw that the ground above my men was covered in scrubby shrubs. It was not loose soil.

  I threw myself behind the rock; Sam Williams sheltered there. “Have you no ammunition, Williams?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Then use the gun. Fire at the sergeants and officers.”

  “But sir, there is a tank!”

  “And we can’t do anything about the tank so let us deal with the infantry eh? The tank can’t drive up here!”

  “Right, sir, sorry sir.”

  “Ashcroft, get on the radio and give our position. Tell them we are under attack from a tank and ask for air support.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And the rest of you, fire at the infantry!”

  I took out my Thompson and cocked it. The infantrymen were approaching the rocks behind which we had sheltered. It was about four hundred feet from us and my Thompson did not have the range. I sent a burst anyway to distract them and the bullets made splinters fly from the rocks. The tank’s gun fired and hit the hillside above me. Soil, branches and leaves cascaded down. It was as I thought, they were novices too. I pulled a grenade from my battle vest and hurled it high in the sky.

  “Grenade!”

  It had a six-second fuse and it exploded in the air above the infantrymen who had just reached the rock. The shrapnel scythed through them and made half take cover while the other half ran for the path. As the booby trap was triggered the two grenades cut down half of the ones close to the path. My men gained confidence and I saw their training kick in as they aimed and fired without panic.

  Ashcroft shouted, “Sir, they are sending aeroplanes!”

  “Good, now remember your training and think back to how you were taught. Breathe, aim and fire; one man at a time! We have cover and we have better weapons. We are Commandos!” I had half a magazine left and I aimed the gun over the top of the rock behind which I sheltered and fired a burst at the path which led up the slope. It was optimistic but the ricocheting bullets made the survivors take cover. I coul
d see that Lofting was good. Each time a sergeant or an officer raised his head a bullet hit him. It demoralised the others. Then the tank got lucky. It hit the undergrowth above us and brought down a small landslide of small rocks and soil. All of us were showered with it. None of us were hurt but all were unsighted and that allowed the North Koreans to advance closer. I put the Thompson over the top and sprayed, blindly. I took a grenade and hurled that over too. I knew in that moment that I had much work to do with my section. I was the only one who had reacted.

  Then I heard the roar of jet engines and a Lockheed P80 Shooting Star screamed in from the south. It gave a burst from its guns and then climbed. I knew what he was doing. He was assessing the threats. The North Koreans wasted ammunition firing after him. I shouted, “Get your heads down!”

  The jet had banked and turned. He came in on exactly the same alignment except this time he used his bombs. They must have straddled the tank for there was an enormous explosion. The ground shook and it was hard to hear anything for the concussion. As soon as I could I raised my head. I saw the jet make its last run and start to strafe the tank and the GAZ.

  I shouted, “Pour it into them!” I had a few bullets left in my magazine and I fired at the North Korean survivors who were still at the bottom of the slope. Lofting’s rifle cracked and men fell. The dozen or so survivors fled north. “Anyone hurt?” It was only as I asked that I realised I had not assigned a medic. John Hewitt had been my medic in the war. I was slipping. Perhaps coming back to the Commandos had been a mistake.

  Corporal Dixon shouted, “No, sir.”

  As I changed my magazine I shouted, “Right. Let’s get down from here. Lofting, you watch us until we reach the road. Watch for Koreans playing dead. When we reach the road then you can join us!”

  “Yes, sir! Nice rifle and scope, sir!”

  I led the way down through the smoke from the burning tank. The bombs must have exploded both the ammunition and the petrol tank. There were more than thirty dead men. I am not sure how many we killed and how many were collateral damage from the exploding tank but the operation had been worthwhile. Had we not damaged the road then there would have been two tanks and four truckloads of reinforcements for the town. The Americans would still have taken it but it would have been harder. In my head, I was writing the report. It was important for Intelligence to know that the North Koreans were moving men at night. There were none left alive between us and the road. A few carrion birds were already picking at the pieces of flesh littering the ground by the exploding culvert. After I had ascertained that we were the only ones left alive, I signalled for Lofting. Had this been the last war we would have scavenged weapons and ammunition from the enemy. The North Korean equipment as not worth taking.

  “Ashcroft, get on the radio and tell base that we are at the site of the ambush and that we will wait here.”

  “Sir.”

  I waited until Lofting joined us before I slung my Thompson and took out my pipe. Ashcroft said, “Sir, they say that we have taken the town and the Marines will be heading up the road soon.”

  “Then we might as well walk back to the town. We have to find some way to get back to Seoul.”

  The Lieutenant, who had not spoken since the charges had exploded asked, “Won’t there be transport for us, sir?”

  I shook my head, “In a perfect world, yes, but we are one small unit in a foreign army. I am guessing we will have to improvise.” As we marched down the road, I reflected that the operation had been a success in other ways. I had learned the strengths and weaknesses of my men. Lofting, Dixon and Ashcroft were the successes. The Lieutenant and the slow reactions of my men were the failures.

  Smith was on point, a hundred yards ahead of us and he shouted, “Vehicles, sir, coming up the road. They look like tanks.”

  “They are ours so sling your rifles over your shoulders. These lads might shoot first and ask questions later. Move to the side of the road.”

  I recognised the M4 Sherman. They had been the workhouse in the last war and they were more than a match for the tanks the North Koreans were using. The tank halted next to me. I saw that they had armoured personnel carriers and half-tracks. The Captain in the tank saluted, “Are you the British Commandos we were told to watch out for?”

  “Yes, Captain. The remains of the convoy are a mile or so ahead.”

  “Thanks for clearing it, sir.” He leaned into the turret, “Right, McGinty, let’s get back into the war.”

  The column heading north seemed to go on forever. Sabres appeared overhead and raced north. They would be heading for Bokke. I saw the smoke rising from the buildings in Pyonggang and already the Americans were clearing bodies. A rough compound had been fashioned and there were Korean prisoners being herded. I sought an MP. There were some of them directing traffic.

  “Lieutenant, we have been behind enemy lines and we are heading back to Seoul. Is there any transport available?”

  He shook his head, “The prisoners will be taken back tomorrow, sir, but everything is going north.”

  I had been expecting that. “Are there any North Korean vehicles?”

  He looked perplexed but his sergeant said, “Yes sir, there are three of four of their little pieces of junk that look like a jeep.”

  I nodded, “GAZ! Where are they?”

  “Follow me, sir. I will take you.” As we walked, he talked. “Were you the guys who blew up the road?” I nodded. He looked at my handful of men. “You guys are like Rangers then eh sir?”

  I smiled, “Yes, Sergeant, we are like your Rangers.”

  He took in the weapons my men carried and said, “I think I would like a little more firepower if I was behind the lines.”

  “We improvise, Sergeant.”

  We had reached what looked like a military building. It had been shelled and there was a burned-out North Korean tank and two damaged trucks but there were also three GAZ vehicles which looked intact. “All yours, sir, but they don’t look like they would get very far.”

  “You would be surprised, Sergeant. Thank you.” I turned as he left to return to his unit. “Take off your packs. Let us see if any of them go. Anyone good with engines?”

  Rafe Smith said, “I had a motorbike, sir, and I like messing around with engines.”

  “That is a start. While Smith and I check out the transport the rest of you find food and fuel. Lieutenant, Corporal, I leave that to you.” Once again, I saw the hesitation on the Lieutenant’s face but Matt Dixon took charge. I dropped my Bergen and machine gun and went to the nearest GAZ. I opened the filler cap. It had fuel and that was a start. When it started first time, I knew that we could get back to Seoul. It was more than ninety miles but even if the others did not work, we could cram ourselves in the GAZ. Luckily the GAZ looked almost identical to the American jeep and with no markings I hoped that our uniforms would prevent friendly fire.

  Rafe Smith grinned, “Well done, sir.”

  It took time but we got the second one going too. The third refused to start and so I had Smith syphon off the fuel and fill the tanks of the other two. It would be cramped but we would be able to fit our gear as well as the men in the two vehicles. The men began to arrive back. “Sorry sir, there was no fuel but we have some food.” Matt Dixon shook his head, “It is Korean. One of the Katusas said this one was called Kimchi.” He opened the lid of a metal tin and shook his head, “It stinks like it has gone off but he reckoned it was like gold!”

  I nodded, Sergeant Heon had explained how they made it, “It is just cabbage, spices, vinegar and other ingredients. They ferment it for six months.”

  “Cabbage? It looks disgusting, sir.”

  I nodded, “We are Commandos, take it. Lieutenant, we will eat now and then split the food which remains between the two vehicles. Marine Smith will drive your GAZ and I will drive the other.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  We ate the fresher food first. There was some bread and we had four tins of bully beef. The Korean food was left un
touched. I smiled; they would eat it when they had to! “I will lead. If you have a problem, Smith, then honk your horn or flash the lights although I am not sure how efficient either of them are. The roads have only just been cleared of North Koreans so keep your weapons handy.”

  The Lieutenant asked, “What about the bags?”

  “Pack them around yourself or tie them to the bonnet.” I needed to have a serious word with the Lieutenant when we reached base for he had much to learn. The journey back was not quick. There were columns of men and materiel heading up the road to exploit the breakthrough and we had to keep pulling over to allow them to pass us. We had seventy miles to go to reach the border. All the way along we saw evidence of the fighting. The Americans had used almost surgical skill to destroy potential strong points. The air superiority we enjoyed had made all the difference. We were stopped by MPs at every checkpoint. That was not a surprise. It was my English accent, rather than paperwork, which facilitated our passage. That and the fact that our uniforms showed signs of fatigue. It took six hours to travel the seventy miles. We had used some of the enforced stops as toilet breaks but, even so, by the time we pulled into the compound I was weary beyond words.

  We were admitted a little more quickly this time, partly because there was now less traffic coming in. I said to the sergeant, “Tell the Colonel we are back but, unless he is desperate, I would like to save the debrief until tomorrow.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  We parked the two Korean vehicles behind our tents. They were a handy little runabout and despite their condition had not faltered during the ninety-odd miles home. “Clean and check your weapons before you go to get some food. Well done. The mission went as well as I might have expected but there are lessons to be learned.”

  “Sir!”

  The rest of the men crowded around the team to ask questions. Lieutenant Morrison headed into our tent and Sergeant Major Thorpe approached. He was tapping the ash from his pipe, “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon, sir. I can see you haven’t lost your touch.”