Daniel Wolfe, left Joseph Kolar, right. I am carrying Oscar Konnerth’s M1. He was evacuated to a MASH (hospital).
Stenches in the Trenches
Chorwon Valley, Korea August 1952
We heated our C-ration cans on Charley’s stove, which he cleverly created from a 50-caliber machine gun canister. A slightly widened part of the Korean trench line was our “mess hall.” It was a steamy late August afternoon, the trench’s cool, damp walls were a soothing support for my back. Franks and Beans was the upscale special of my day. They were the most edible of the inedible assortment of C-rations. Charley dug a spoon into his can of Ham and Lima Beans.
“Phew! This tastes and smells like pig shit!”
Lancaster laughed, and then asked,
“How do you know what pig shit smells or tastes like?”
“I smelled your breath this morning and if that isn’t pig shit then pigs don’t shit,” replied Charley. This was the gourmet dessert for our olive drab meal.
The second platoon had not been on a patrol or a raid in six days. I thought it odd to see Lt. Sidney, our company commander, come into the trenchline and excusing himself for breaking in on the fun. I knew this was not a courtesy call. Usually, our platoon leader, Lt. Theiss met with us when we had a mission. Lt. Sidney asked us to gather near him.
“Sgt. Rutledge was killed by a sniper’s bullet this morning. Battalion claims the sniper’s bunker is located at the base of the cliff below Hill 117 where we were ambushed. Your patrol will wade up the Imjin and cross the sandbar that is near his bunker. A bunker-bomb will destroy him and his bunker. Tomorrow night you will go through a dry run using a bunker bomb. The following night will be the real thing.”
I never saw it on line or in basic training. What is a bunker-bomb? Who is going to carry it? We don’t need a runner for this mission. We didn’t need one when I fired a flare before we attacked Hill 121. Will I carry the bomb? Why can’t we destroy the bunker from our side of the river?
The bomb consisted of a white phosphorus grenade connected to a 30-caliber machine gun canister partially filled with napalm. To carry it, a four-foot pole was securely tied to the canister.
Before we went on the mission, the chaplain was there to ease our anxiety. As usual, he read the 23st Psalm. “… I shall fear no evil: for thou art with me.” I’ve never seen “thou” on any of our missions. Why doesn’t the chaplain join us if “thou” was with us?
This was the fourth month I was on line, yet when I was told we had a mission, multiple scenarios played out in my psyche.
I’ve only seen their silhouettes. Did my grenades injure or did I kill any of them? I hope not. We lost Caton, will Salinger, our new medic be there if I am hit? Everyone appears to be calm. What’s going on inside of them? Are their intestines churning like mine? Will I get a million-dollar-wound? Is the enemy as anxious as I am in that darkness? There will only be seven of us; how many will return?
Sgt. Flaherty, Truman Bastin, Oscar Konnerth and our medic, Wayne Caton were gone, but we had replacements. In spite of their greenery, we were a tight group. We had confidence in one another, and I’m sure they rummaged through the same files as I did before a mission. Is there a normal person who has no apprehension when told he was going on a raid? I think Charley had no fear, but I said a normal person.
To learn what happened that night read,
Cold Ground’s Been My Bed: A Korean War Memoir Page 219 Baptism and Resurrection by Daniel Wolfe. danielwolfebooks@aol.com