Hill 117
On August 8, 1952, Company L gathered at twilight. Massey, our armorer, distributed bandoleers for the M1 rifles and cartridges for my carbine. The chaplain was waiting under a grove of trees. He launched us off to our jon boats with the 23 Psalm. Hill 117 was waiting.
Hill One-One-Seven was only a wart of a hill
Artillery would level it before we go in for the kill
We’ll cross the Imjin it’ll be a walk in the park
My vest and my helmet won’t be seen in the dark.
Two cartridges, two grenades are enough for this mission
Let’s be off to the chaplain before we head to perdition
“The Lord is my shepherd…” was his solemn prayer
Will these words shield me while I’m a target out there?
What will Ma do if she gets the sad news?
Your son was a hero but we have some bad news
Dusk over the Imjin helped our jon boats get through
We assembled at The Bubble for another review.
With Charley at the point and Sid leading the raid
I unlatched my safety and secured each grenade
A trail matted with wire led us along a steep cliff
It was here Charley whispered come close have a whiff
It’s kim-chi, it’s garlic, it reeks in the air
“Into that ditch, shouted Sid, artillery will blast ‘em.
A round plunged into the Imjin
Another flew past them.
So much for the shells, we moved up the Hill
I hurled my grenades whose blood did I spill?
Bullets from burp gins buzzed overhead
Some buddies lay wounded how many were dead?
Down the cliff yelled Sid our ammo is low
The men skidded and slid to the Imjin below
When I began to descend Poodles ran up and said
Massengale’s out there I think that he’s dead.
Follow me Poodles and keep your head down
I crawled under fire but Poodles was gone.
Massengale’s collar in hand, I dragged him away
My heart beat like thunder, will I see another day?
I buckled his ankles with my web GI belt
We tumbled to the Imjin, what a hand I was dealt
His helmet was gone his vest was in shreds
My O.D. fatigues was a palette of reds
Bullets pockmarked the Imjin, will we ever reach a boat
I edged closer to the cliff with Massengale afloat
They didn’t see us, they missed us amid the slaughter
He was a hero on the cliff, but cold dead in the water.
Ah there’s a jon boat I towed him across
Graves Registration was waiting to record Love Company’s loss
Swaddled in a body bag its zipper tolled the knell
Massengale was at rest after his visit to Hell.
Wet in my bunker I zipped up my sack
The zip of the zipper zipped I was back
I survived through the night I’ll never know why
Maybe the old adage held true, I was too mean to die
Dear Ma Dear Pa nothing’s going on here
I’m far south of Seoul way back in the rear
I’ll send a few photos, show the guys my great tan
Tell them it’s a picnic for your rear-echelon Dan.
Daniel Wolfe