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Joseph Normand RobertsWilbraham, MA "If there was one thing that scared the hell out of me, it was being sent out into the valley at night in front of the MLR with a coil of commo wire and a field phone. I was out there alone, sitting in tall grass listening to every sound. Everything sounded like someone was approaching me. The quad .50 caliber harassing fire with tracers going over me was enough to cast some light, and every shadow seemed to move. " - Joe Roberts
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Memoir Contents:
Pre-MilitaryMy name is Joseph Normand Roberts of Wilbraham, Massachusetts. I was born June 3, 1931, in Ludlow, Massachusetts on the kitchen table in my parents' home on Prospect Street. I don't know if there was a doctor or midwife present, but back then, many children were born at home. My parents were George and Alice Talbot Roberts. My mother was from St. Hubert, Canada, and my father was from Chicopee, Massachusetts. Mother was here by marriage. I don't know how they met. Father worked in a foundry called Chapman Valve Company in Indian Orchard, Massachusetts. When I was two weeks old, my mother died at the age of 33 from an infection. I had five older siblings: Harvey, Roger, Chic, Alice, and Dianne. Dianne was my oldest sister, and she took care of me immediately after my mother died. She brought me down to my future grandmother (a widow named Mrs. Pauline Carmell) on a pillow to show her the new baby. She and her family of six kids lived in a house at the bottom of the street where I was born. My grandmother (she was not a blood relative) took one look at me and told my sister that she wanted to talk to my father. She was afraid that I was going to die being cared for by my sister. My father had to keep his job to support my sisters and brothers, and he was worried about my 12-year old sister taking time off from school to care for me, so he agreed to let Mrs. Carmell take me in. When my father remarried, his new wife didn't want me, so my grandmother continued to raise me. Grandmother was a fine woman. If anyone is a saint, my grandmother is. To me, she was my mother, although she didn't legally adopt me because she wanted me to have my birth name. My grandmother died in November of 1955. She was 84 years old. All of her children are now dead, too. They lived into their late 80s and mid-90s. I grew up in a great, secure family setting, and I was mostly well-behaved. I saw my father a few times a month, but he died from complications of diabetes and drinking a few years later when I was eleven years old. He had a tough life. I remember that my father had a rough beard and that he was thin. The Great Depression was hard on many, including my birth family. Growing up in my grandmother's house, we were poor, but her daughters had jobs so I didn't realize what poor was. I spent my childhood in Ludlow, Massachusetts, in a neighborhood with Polish, French, and Irish residents who lived in nice old homes. We then moved to Springfield, Massachusetts to live with relatives. I liked Springfield better. I attended school at Robert O. Morris grade school, Myrtle Street Junior High School, and Technical High School. I was lucky and squeezed by to graduate in 1950 with a high school diploma. School was okay. I liked some teachers better than others, and I seldom skipped. I didn't participate in sports or extracurricular activities. I was a skinny kid who hung around with my own friends (and still do with those who are living). There was a big forest preserve near my house, and there I learned survival skills with the help of books and practice with some friends. To earn money, I worked in the school machine shop making small machine parts. I got 60 cents an hour. When I was 17, I also worked in the summer as a leaf picker and hauler of full baskets of picked tobacco leaves for Consolidated Tobacco Company in Connecticut. I worked mostly with other young kids, making 90 cents an hour. I saved my money to buy my first car--a 1931 Ford Model 'A'. World War II broke out when I was still in school. I heard about it from the radio, in the newspaper, and from my grandmother. My brother Roger served in the Army infantry in the European campaign, and my Uncle Ed Carmell was in the Army Air Corps. He flew B-17s in 17 missions over Germany. Both survived. We were still a bit poor, but jobs became plentiful during World War II. I remember that it was hard to get many food items--sugar, pineapple, butter, canned goods, meat, some green groceries, tuna fish, eggs, some baked goods, flour, etc.--you name it. We had to use ration stamps for everything. In school our teachers talked about the war. A teacher in my school taught me how to knit, and I knitted squares for military hospital blankets. My sister's boyfriend was a pilot, and he was killed in the South Pacific. I was young then and didn't pay much attention to the war, but I felt bad for him. I wasn't old enough to join the military, but I still wanted to serve. When the war was over, people were glad. They were a bit worn out with war by then. Army TrainingBasic TrainingAfter I graduated from high school, I first worked for a dry cleaning plant. I then worked for the Springfield Armory as heat treater, making the same arms that I was to use in the future. I joined the U.S. Army on October 8, 1951. I went to the recruiting office in Springfield, Massachusetts, for an interview and physical. I wanted to serve, wanted the adventure of experience and travel, and wanted the discipline of Army training. Many of my friends were already in the service. One was in the Air Force and another joined the Army later. I chose the Army to go into because I didn't like sea sickness and wasn't looking for glory. I just liked the Army. My brother had been in World War II, but he didn't talk about it much. He and his family lived in another city so I seldom saw him. He wasn't aware that I had joined until months later. My grandmother and relatives were worried about me joining, especially after I was sent to Korea later on. I didn't know much about Korea until I got there. Actually, I didn't really think I would end up in combat when I joined. Boy, was I wrong! I traveled to the training camp at Ft. Dix, New Jersey, by bus. It was the first time I had ever been away from home for any length of time. The camp was on flat, sandy ground not far from the coast. It was hot in the summer and cold in the winter, and there were flies, mosquitoes, and bugs in general. That first day, the drill sergeant chewed us all out for gabbing in formation. We were then assigned typical Army barracks with two-tiered bunks. On the second day, we got fatigues and had to attend lectures about military life, military history, and what was expected of us. I think I was assigned to the 364th Infantry training platoon. Basic training was eight weeks, and Korea was seldom mentioned. Like half of my buddies, I thought I was going to Europe. (Ha! You dreamer!) I was assigned to Company E, 3rd Platoon, 364th Infantry Regiment while in basic training at Ft. Dix. Most of our instructors were World War II veterans and career Army, and many of them were black. I had gone to school with quite a few blacks and had some black friends, so I had no problem with having black instructors. They were very good. Everything about our day was regimented--meals, personal hygiene, training, free time, taking care of the barracks, and lights out. Our day began when we were awakened by a loud whistle and yelling at 6 a.m. The barracks had showers, and we washed our clothes by hand. The barracks floors had to be scrubbed by hand. After an initial morning inspection, it was off to the mess hall. Every infraction resulted in KP or other duty, and could very well mean no weekend pass. I got KP duty once for wearing wrinkled fatigues. I was also disciplined for not making my bunk correctly, for having a foot locker not up to par, and once for eating ice cream while on KP. I got banged on my helmet a few times for being out of step. Other forms of punishment were mostly KP duty or guard duty on some spooky remote ammo warehouse--or perhaps the WAC's barracks (smiles). The whole platoon was rarely disciplined for the wrongdoings of one individual, but the whole barracks was punished for things like smoking in the barracks, sneaking in alcohol--and one time for sneaking in a girl. If the discipline was a collective-type discipline, it was done to make all the rest jump on the offender. I didn't have much fun in basic, and there were times that I was sorry I had joined. The discipline and lack of free time was a pain. There were no home passes for the first month of basic, but if we weren't in training and if we didn't have KP or guard duty, our time was free. Our meals consisted of a variety of typical military food. Church was offered, but many were too tired after a week of training to attend. Instructors didn't bother those in worship. Our training was both in the classroom and in the field. In the classroom they taught us about military operations and military history. In the field we learned how to crawl through mud, march, bivouac, and shoot. I already knew how to shoot a rifle when I joined the Army. As I mentioned earlier, we were poor while I was growing up. I had an old single shot .22 caliber rifle, but never more than four or five cartridges to hunt squirrels and rabbits. (My grandmother made excellent rabbit/squirrel stew.) My uncles also hunted. I had to make every shot count. While in basic training at Ft. Dix, I won my company's marksmanship competition and was awarded an engraved silver bracelet. I let my steady girlfriend (now my wife) wear it, and she lost it. Sometimes we were awakened in the middle of the night for night problems to march out to defend against a phantom enemy in full gear. Our training also consisted of watching gory World War II combat films. Our "graduation ceremony" was a 20-mile hike in full field packs to attack a hill held by an imaginary enemy. We had live ammo for the attack. Our long column of G.I.'s was harassed by low-flying Piper Cub planes that dropped one pound paper bags of flour on us to simulate an enemy air attack. By the end of basic training, I had come to appreciate my instructors. They did a good job of making us soldiers. After my training at Ft. Dix, I felt that I was well-prepared for combat. I was more self-reliant, tougher, and had a better outlook on life. Advanced TrainingAfter I completed basic, I was sent to a Signal Corps unit because I had had some radio experience. I had fooled around building radio kits and hi-fi equipment, but nothing exotic. The Signal Corps had their own barracks in another area of Ft. Dix, and the schooling there lasted for sixteen weeks. They taught us Morse Code and military radio operation and repair. I hated it and deliberately flunked out by failing my test. The Major in charge knew it and shook his head. He said, "Well, I guess you want to be an infantryman." He was right on. The Signal Corps just wasn't my 'thing.' I was a bit naive back then, and I wanted adventure. (I got a big wakeup call in Korea.) I went back to 16 more weeks of basic training after already having eight weeks, but I was okay with it. I was in Company E, 3rd Platoon, 364th Infantry Regiment. I surely felt well-trained after that. On April 27, 1952 while at Ft. Dix, I sent the following letter home to Mary and Ade:
I went home for one week after my training at Ft. Dix was over. I wore my uniform home because I was proud of it. People asked about my training, and my family asked a lot of questions. During my leave, I mostly stayed with my grandmother and foster sister at their apartment, visited old friends, and went out with a girl. I knew several girls, but didn't have a steady. After my leave was up, I went to Bradley Field in Connecticut to catch a flight to Washington State and Ft. Lewis. Nothing really happened at my leaving at Bradley Field other than my grandmother cried a bit. I stayed at Ft. Lewis for about a week in late April 1952. I didn't do much there but hang around. Assignment - KoreaFrom Seattle I was flown to Japan on a Canada Pacific "Empress of the Air" four-engine prop plane. In Japan, I was to undergo two weeks of advanced infantry training. I guess they were in a rush to send me on to Korea, where our outfit was never above 70 percent of full strength. Out of my original group of 42, I was one of only eight survivors when I left Korea. On the plane trip over, I sat next to a former Russian soldier who told me how tough his training was. He said he was left up in a tree overnight in winter for disobeying an order. The flight was pretty normal. We took the North Pacific route to get to Japan, stopping at the last Aleutian island for fuel. I remember that I bought a glass of milk for $1.25. Wow! When we saw some small fishing boats in the water below, we knew we were getting close to Japan. The plane landed and we went by railway car to a base outside of Tokyo where we took our training. I don't remember the name of it. The training we received there was just more infantry training. They taught us how to escape if captured, how to stay away from 'situations' with Korean civilians, what not to eat or drink in the field, etc. We already knew how to use mortars, bazookas, machine guns, pistols, grenades and bayonets, and how to drive a truck, etc. The classroom training we received was more about the Korean culture and what to expect while serving there. There were only two days of classroom instruction and a lieutenant was giving the classes. We didn't have much free time while we were in training. We stayed at the base with what little free time we had, relaxing and reading Army manuals. In some respects it was exciting to know that I was getting closer and closer to getting into combat. In others, it mean that I might not come back--and that was scary. We left Japan in a large Navy LST. LST stands for Landing Ship Tank. They were used in World War II for amphibious landings of troops, tanks, cargo, and vehicles. The Inchon harbor was very shallow and ships could land only at high tide. Being flat-bottomed, LST's could get in at low tide. Three days after leaving Yokohama, Japan, we landed at Inchon in the early afternoon on July 4, 1952. Upon arriving there, I couldn't immediately tell that I was in a war zone. Inchon was a major port for personnel and supplies, and there were quite a few freighters out in the bay. As soon as the landing was secure, we waded ashore and got right on the train that shipped us north as far as it was safe to go by rail. I didn't have much of a first impression of Korea. I just thought it looked poor and beat up. Sitting on the train, I saw lots of Korean kids selling rice wine and other things outside of my window. The train was an old train pulled by a steam engine, and it had cars similar to the Pullman-type. The seats were hard wooden bench-type seats. I am not sure about the tracks, but the steam engine was like the ones in use when I was a kid. A sergeant came into our train car with a case of M-1 ammo and put it in the center of the car. We asked what it was for and he said that they had been having trouble with snipers taking shots at the train on the way north. (Our rifles were not loaded at the time.) We were quite surprised about the infiltrator enemy snipers. We thought this area was relatively safe, but we were on alert during the trip. The train made no stops and went straight through to Uijong-bu. While traveling north, I saw a few natives along the roads, but everything was flattened. There were no towns--just rubble. Once we got to the replacement (repo) depot, we each received our individual assignments. From there I went by truck to my company, which was located close to the front. I was the 'new' guy, and I knew no one. I was assigned to a front line bunker in Kumwha Valley with one other GI. I had no choice as to my assignment, but it was what I was trained for. The weather was warm when I arrived, but the winter ahead was very cold. It was a good thing that I was from New England. The weather was like home. We were in mountainous terrain, but there was almost no vegetation. It had all been blown away by enemy artillery and mortar fire. There were bunkers (sometimes called hootches), trenches, and foxholes all around. Not long after I arrived, we were assigned to lay barbed wire across a ravine one foggy morning. The fog suddenly lifted and the Chinese observed us. That was my 'baptism of fire.' They started dropping mortar rounds on us and we all ran up to a paddy dike and dove over the other side. No one was hurt. That was my third day in Korea. My sergeant said, "Roberts, you just earned your CIB," and I didn't know what the hell he was talking about. The C.I.B. stands for Combat Infantry Badge, awarded only after coming under enemy fire. During those first few days on the front line, we got shelled by enemy artillery and mortars. I didn't see too much. I was too busy ducking. I had moments of fear (we all did), but you would be surprised at what you can get used to when you have to. I was a private, so sergeants and non-commissioned officers (NCO's) gave me my orders. Quite a few of these veteran combat soldiers were World War II veterans, and they were very good at what they did. They taught me what to be careful of, to keep my head down, that I was not to walk around outside the trench or bunker, and about enemy tactics. In my "on-the-job training," I learned how to get shot at and shelled by the enemy, and how to keep my cool in tight situations. Actual combat was a whole lot more dangerous and nerve racking than the war stories I had heard prior to Korea. The war stories were a long way from reality. Probably Saving Private Ryan is as close as anything I have seen in the movies that gives a good representation of actual combat. The movie Band of Brothers also wasn't too bad. I was personally armed with an M-1 rifle and hand grenades, and there was a machine gun and M-1 carbine in my bunker. On a night combat ambush patrol, I had a Thompson submachine gun, hand grenades, and a knife. About three weeks after I arrived in Korea, I saw dead Americans and dead enemy for the first time. I felt badly about the American dead, but not so for the enemy dead. Later on, it didn't affect me much--I got so used to seeing dead bodies. I lived with three dead Chinese soldiers in a bunker on Pork Chop Hill for two days. I recall walking down a deep trench and smelling something foul. It was two leg bones sticking out of the trench wall about three feet from the top. My buddy and I were glad to travel on. I also remember going out on a patrol and coming across a dead American in a bunker with several dead Chinese around him. On the Front LineDuring the first three months I was in Korea, we moved on a regular basis along the front to different positions. We were very mobile, to say the least. We never spent two weeks in one place. On the central front--the Kumwha Valley, we were on hills with names such as T-bone, Three Sisters, Hill 200, Spud Hill, Tap-tap-San-dong, Erie outpost, Arsenal outpost, and others whose names I have forgotten. They were mostly enemy hills or hills that were taken and then lost. An "outpost" was a hill out in front of the Main Line of Resistance (MLR), usually occupied by U.S. troops. They were much closer to the enemy, and they were dangerous. The men out in the valley on listening posts alerted the front of any enemy activity. It was a very dangerous, scary job. If there was one thing that scared the hell out of me, it was being sent out into the valley at night in front of the MLR with a coil of commo wire and a field phone. I was out there alone, sitting in tall grass listening to every sound. Everything sounded like someone was approaching me. The quad .50 caliber harassing fire with tracers going over me was enough to cast some light, and every shadow seemed to move. Every half hour I had to blow into the phone to check in to the MLR. I was very relieved when in early dawn I was able to return to my nice (?), safe (?) bunker. We were seldom below the 38th Parallel except when in reserve and once when we were sent to Koje-do enemy prison camp. The outfit there was having problems with the North Korean prisoners, so we were pulled off the line and sent there to help. The North Koreans were very fearful of front line infantry combat troops. We were there about a month as I recall. We put down small riots--firmly. We didn't have much trouble after a while. We used to choose compounds at random to raid late at night to catch prisoners trying to make weapons. On one raid we came to a long barracks type building and, as the door was opened by two other men, I had to run through the barracks. Well, some prisoner was on his way to the latrine and I ran smack into him and knocked him flat on his butt. I don't know who was more scared--him or me. In the valley front, enemy artillery once blew three layers of sand bags off of my bunker. I had been a point man on a night 35-man combat ambush patrol, and was exhausted. I had crawled into a rather small machine gun bunker and had fallen into a deep sleep, alone in the bunker. The explosion never woke me up. I was awakened by shouting and a ruckus outside the bunker. My buddies came down to see if I was dead. I stuck my head out of the bunker after pushing the machine gun out of the way and noticed that the ground around it was a bit chewed up. My buddies were glad that I was okay, and I crawled back in and went to sleep again. (Sleep on the front was precious.)
On another section of the front line, the only small tree around was cut in half by an enemy artillery round. My poor tree, which was just outside of my bunker, fell into the trench. It was a pretty close hit. There was heavy enemy fire and I had buddies who were killed and wounded there. One was a full-blooded Navajo Indian from Navajo County, Arizona. Pfc. Franklin T. Roosevelt (yes, his real name) was killed during a Chinese attack on October 6, 1952. When I returned to the States, I called Frank's family and sent them his pictures. The other, whose name I cannot now remember, was wounded on a night combat patrol. The wounded were taken off the line down to where a chopper could land with some safety, and the badly wounded were taken out by chopper. Several others were killed and wounded during this enemy attack, but they were new and I didn't know their names, or they were not in my squad. I once asked a buddy who had been in Korea a few months longer than me why the others in my unit didn't seem friendly. He said, "They don't want to know you too well. They have seen too many killed and it plays on them." Other fatalities stand out in my mind, too. I was on Erie outpost one time when a mortar round hit as one of our men was just leaving a bunker. It exploded on the top edge of the trench and a fragment caught him in the neck. He died before he could be helped. A young kid. One time a new replacement started to cry. He had come up a few days earlier, and he was at a firing position in the trench just outside of our bunker when a large caliber enemy artillery round hit about 15 feet above the bunker. It showered him with dirt and frags. He stumbled into the bunker with tears streaming down his face and shaking like a leaf. It scared the hell out of me also, but I had been on the line for some time and was a bit used to it. The explosion shook the bunker. I told him to stay in the bunker for a while. There were times when I, too, had felt in great personal danger on the front line, such as being point man on night combat ambush patrols into enemy territory, leading one of the many attacks on Pork Chop Hill, and being in combat on Heartbreak Ridge. I was just plain scared. They were talking peace, and I hoped it would be over soon. On October 23, 1952, I sent the following letter home from Kumwha, North Korea to my grandmother's daughter Mary, and her husband Ade Laperle in Indian Orchard, Massachusetts. I wrote to them because they used to read my letters to Grandmother, who was in her late 70's when I was in Korea.
The enemy that I saw were mostly young, although there were a few older ones, too. Nobody wanted to be taken prisoner by them because a North Korean unit shot some of our men that they had taken as prisoners. They were armed with burp guns (a machine gun like the Thompson sub machine gun, but not as well made), and an assortment of rifles and grenades. They were fair fighters. They fought in waves (mass attacks, wave after wave), costing them heavy losses. My unit was never attacked like that, but many others were. The enemy we saw were mostly small bands probing our lines for a weak point. The wave attacks were on Pork Chop Hill and Heartbreak Ridge. Sometimes we could tell an attack was coming because we could smell the garlic in the air. The North Koreans loved to eat garlic. One day I was in a bunker with two other G.I.'s on Arsenal Outpost. We were on a 'finger' that jutted out toward the Chinese position. It was primarily an artillery control bunker, and it had maps of our immediate front area. It was a quiet day and we were relaxed. Suddenly we heard old music from the 1940's from a hill right in front of us and a Chinese person who spoke excellent English. He proceeded to tell us about home and how we shouldn't be in Korea. He then threatened us by saying, 'If you send artillery on this position, we will return twice as much on you." Well now, I didn't take to be 'threatened' so I plotted his approximate position on one of the maps and called back to our artillery for a marker round (155 ) of white phosphorus (willy peter). It came in near enough and I called for four rounds of HE (high explosives). My two buddies said, "You'd better be damned sure about this, as it's going to come in real close." And it did. It shook our bunker, but it also knocked out the Chinese blabbermouth. We waited with apprehension for the return enemy fire, but it never came. Fighting was mostly in early morning or at night on combat ambush patrols, but one time a general was entertaining some big news group and sent one of our platoons out in the front to simulate an enemy attack. The North Koreans spotted them and hit them with artillery. One man took a frag through his right forearm and I saw him with the bone sticking out of his forearm. The general was severely reprimanded and was relieved of front line duty. No others were hurt in this incident. One time a Marine unit was on our right flank. They were good men and we had no conflicts with them--in combat, we were all the same. I recall writing home for some mantles for my Coleman lantern that I used in reserve. They came when I was up on the Kumwha Valley front. Don't ask me how he found out I had them, but one day a Marine came up the trench to my bunker and asked if I would share some of the mantles. I said sure, and I gave him four of my eight. He left one happy Marine. I hope he survived. There were also some troops of other nationalities serving near us. There were Republic of Korea (ROK) soldiers who were "okay" as good fighters, and then there were the Turkish soldiers who were fearless. If someone asked a Turk soldier to see the knife he carried, he had to cut himself first. If they drew a knife, they also had to draw blood. ROK troops were assigned into our units and we got along just fine with them. We didn't have much contact with non-military South Koreans because Korean civilians were not allowed within 20 miles of the front lines, except if employed by the military. They did a multitude of work, such as unloading/loading trucks. They served in the rear areas, but were never close to the front lines. I was never involved in hand-to-hand combat as some in other companies were, because the Chinese got knocked off before they close enough to us for that kind of fighting. I was, however, wounded while leading an attack on a small hill. We were taking enemy small arms fire, so we dove into a ravine near the base of the hill. I knew we couldn't stay there, so I jumped up and ran up a narrow draw. An enemy mortar hit about 20 feet ahead of me and a fragment hit me in the chest, knocking me flat on my butt. Fortunately, I was wearing a newly-issued armored vest and the frag didn't go all the way through--but it scared me and made a hell of a dent in the vest. Another time, I was leading a 35-man night ambush patrol when I was bitten by a snake. It was non-poisonous, but it made my arm swell up and they shipped me back to a MASH unit for treatment for a week. Wow! Fresh eggs and bacon for breakfast. I was in Heaven. Having been hit did not cause me to be more cautious in the hours and days that followed. It was no use being overly cautious--if you got hit, you got hit. I got over the shock of being hit, but I never forgot it. When we dug in for the night, we were protected by trenches and bunkers and foxholes. We also received fire support from Navy and Air Force jets, and from the ground in the form of mortars, tanks, recoilless rifle units, and quad .50 caliber machine guns mounted on half tracks. The tank support was very good. Tank and air support were used when an enemy attack was expected or underway, which was several times in the Kumwha Valley front. We were kept well-supplied by trucks at night, although the Chinese did ambush one of our mail delivery trucks one night as it was coming out of Erie Outpost. I didn't hear if anyone was killed or wounded, but I do know that support was fast in arriving to help them. I remember that some of the mail was salvaged. The Korean War caught the U.S. Army with its pants down. It was unprepared for war. Almost everything we had or used was of World War II vintage, including rifles and ammunition that had been made as much as 10 years before. Some equipment was stamped 1942. In the summer we wore green fatigues, whereas the enemy wore light tan fatigue-type clothing. The enemy wore tan padded uniforms in the winter. Our winter gear wasn't that good, although later we started getting insulated boots (after I got some frostbite) and warmer parkas. In the bitterly cold weather, we had to degrease the machine guns so they would fire okay, and we had to do the same thing to our rifles. When the weather was from 30 degrees to 22 degrees below zero, it was so cold that the oil on the machine gun froze up. Because of my marksmanship, I was pulled off the front and sent to sniper training for a week in a rear area. I was one of the few who had the new night scopes that let one see in the dark. Everything looked green. It was mounted on an M-1 carbine and all my buddies had to have a 'peek' through it. Among the battles I was in during 1952-53 were those to take or hold Pork Chop Hill on the central front and Heartbreak Ridge, Erie and Arsenal Outposts, and Jane Russell in the Kumwha Valley. The peace talks were underway and those areas were just bargaining chips for the enemy. Each battle for these "bargaining chips" still stands out in my mind after all these years. They all involved artillery and mortar attacks in the pre-battle phase, enemy troops, U.S. artillery strikes, air and tank support, enemy artillery, and mortar fire during the battle, and picking up the dead, enemy guns and ammo when the fighting was over. They also included rainy weather, cold C-rations, and lack of sleep. Some of our efforts to accomplish our objectives during these battles were successful and some failed due to heavy resistance. Either way, whenever the fighting was over, I felt I was lucky to be alive and in one piece. Daily LivingOne word can describe life in a foxhole or trench: miserable. One time I was told to get into a foxhole located on a saddle-like hill near the Chinese lines to observe them. It could only be approached at night as it was too dangerous to get there by day. I had to stay there all day until relieved at night. That foxhole had about three inches of water in it and the enemy kept lobbing artillery rounds about twenty feet over my head. They weren't trying to hit me, but rather they were trying to hit something on the next mountain. It was very unnerving. A bunker was dug into the side of a hill mostly, and was reinforced with wooden beams, metal rails, and at least six layers of sandbags. There was a trench leading in and out, and several firing ports. Life in a bunker was better than the trench, even though it was very Spartan. There was a commo wire mattress between two steel rails, nice sandbag seats, a great dirt floor (sometimes 'juicy' after a rain), and rats and assorted bugs. If conditions permitted, we washed socks in our helmets and shaved the same way--if we could find a razor. (View my Korea photo album and notice the "clean" fatigues.) We got to shower once a week, conditions permitting. In a rare show of kindness, the Army moved a large mess tent kitchen up just behind the front. It was spotted by an enemy artillery observer a few days later and a volley of enemy artillery rounds blew it up, killing the cook and two helpers, and riddling the pots and pans with frag holes. We never ate the native food because we were warned about its safety. The food we ate was C-rations, mostly dated from World War II. I missed milk, bread, hamburger, good coffee, steak, tea, fresh veggies, bananas, fruit, and the home cooking that I had in the States. I missed fresh glasses of milk the most. In Japan I bought frozen milk, but it didn't taste like the milk back home. The best thing I ever ate in Korea was Thanksgiving dinner at Koje-do, where we were served turkey with all the fixings. Since I was usually on the front line, that Thanksgiving was the only time I celebrated an American holiday in Korea. On holidays, we usually thought about home and wished we were there. I turned 22 in Korea, but it was just another day--nothing special. Frank Yakashima had a good sense of humor and he and some others kept us laughing, although not too many humorous things took place in Korea. I remember a funny story about the Chinese. One day I was in a bunker with a .50 caliber machine gun that we used as a long range sniper rifle to fire one shot at a time. I was watching some Chinese on a hill directly in front of us when, lo and behold, a young Chinese girl jumped out of a trench wearing a bright yellow skirt and did a dance for us. I reported it to my Sergeant and he and others came up for a look. Well, my binoculars disappeared into other hands and they all had a good look. By the time I recovered my binoculars, she was gone. Of course, no one shot at her (smiles). It was funny to see her in that yellow skirt. We also laughed at a Red Cross person who came up to the Kumwha Valley front one day. He didn't stay long. He was a nervous wreck. We received mail regularly if conditions permitted. My aunt and uncle, sister, and other relatives wrote to me. Since my grandmother was then in her mid-seventies, her daughters wrote for her. They also sent me packages, and they usually arrived in good condition. I remember receiving canned chicken, oatmeal, canned goods in variety, fruit cakes, newspapers, and warm gloves. Other guys in my company received a vast variety of goods, particularly Italian sausages and other ethnic foods. The only thing I actually asked for were the mantles for my Coleman gas lantern that I used in reserve and which I have already written about. My aunt sent them to me. I never came within 50 miles of any type of church. Only in rear areas did I see American women--and they were mostly nurses. We rarely saw any Korean prostitutes either, and rarely talked to the natives, as civilians were not allowed any closer than twenty miles from the front. They were also kept out of reserve areas. We had some contact with a very few natives at the Koje-do prison camp. What natives we did see were mostly war-displaced natives and kid beggars. Most lived in shanties. I really didn't think about whether or not their country was worth fighting for. I was there and that was it. USO shows were not about to come up to the front, and while I was in reserve there were none close enough to attend, so I didn't get to see any of those. I didn't drink or smoke (never have), so in my spare time I slept and wrote home. Then, after six months in Korea, I got a six-day R&R to Sasebo, which was located on the southern-most island of Japan. I was sent by truck to a small rear area air base, and got on a flying boxcar to Japan with two other guys who I did not know. Sasebo was an old Japanese city with some manufacturing plants and old Buddha statues. I took $100 US dollars with me, which converted to 10,000 Japanese yen. I got a room (nothing fancy) at the new Kukora Hotel, and I slept soundly in a real bed. I also ate like a king at the base PX. I bought and sent home a silk jacket, a fancy cigarette lighter, silk pajamas, and a silk scarf. A Japanese waitress at the PX thought I was cute (the poor thing was in serious need of glasses) and showed me the local sites and took me to a movie. I saw quite a bit of the Japanese countryside and the Japanese people. The Japanese culture was quite a bit different than the American culture, but it was becoming Americanized. R&R was a welcome break. No one was taking pot shots at me or trying to blow me up, and it ate up time for my 36 rotation points. (We got more points for being on the front lines.) I hated to return to Korea. Going HomeIt was the first part of May 1953 when I was informed by my sergeant that I was being rotated home. I had mixed feelings. I was sad to leave my buddies, but glad my tour was over. For the last hours I was with my unit, I kept my head down. I wrote this letter home to May and Ade on May 8 from Outpost Erie:
On the back of the envelope, I wrote: "Go letter go -- because I can't." I was taken by an APC, then by truck to the departure point for the usual Army checkout for those going home. I boarded an old Liberty ship, leaving Korea as a PFC. G.I.'s from many different outfits were on the ship with me. We saw replacements coming in as we were leaving, but they were too far away to talk to. Then the ship left Korea on a non-stop, week-long trip back to the States. The trip wasn't too bad, but many got sea sick, including me. There was no entertainment on board, and I had some KP duty. I was glad to see mainland USA. The ship docked in Seattle, Washington, and there were lots of civilians there to welcome us. When I disembarked from the ship, I walked over to a Red Cross van (I never saw one in Korea) for a doughnut. Then I got on a bus for Ft. Lewis. During the next 24 hours, I ate, got lots of sleep, counted my blessings, and thought of those who didn't come home. I finished out my time in the Army at Ft. Monmouth, New Jersey, where I was assigned general work, but no KP. Some guys go a little wild after returning from war, but I didn't. I had had enough excitement. Did I think about re-enlisting? No way! I was discharged on October 7, 1953. I lacked just one day of having served two years in the U.S. Army. (Back then, one could enlist for just two years.) For my Korea service, I received the Combat Infantry Badge, a battle ribbon with three battle stars, and a Korea Service ribbon. I'm proud of them and our kids like to look at them. Final ReflectionsI had no problems adjusting to civilian life after leaving the Army, but going to Korea took the "kid" out of me. It made me self-reliant. I was more serious and not such a wild kid anymore. I was more responsible, thinking more about my future. After I was discharged I took it easy for a month and then went looking for a job. I got a job at Monsanto Chemical Company in Indian Orchard, Massachusetts, and that was the job I settled into. I stayed there until 1989, when I retired. I married Margaret Jean "Peg" Gauthier and we had children Joe, Sharon, Greg, Mike, and Jim. After retiring as a foreman at Monsanto, Peg and I now live on five acres on Wilbraham Mountain where we grow tomatoes, walnuts, cherries and plums. I had some frost bite to my left foot, but I have no permanent disabilities associated with the Korean War. For me personally, the hardest thing about being in Korea was being away from home, the danger, enemy fire, losing friends, and the weather. Without a doubt, my training saved my life in Korea, and serving in the Army made me tougher, more able to face problems, more understanding of others, and more able to make decisions and accept responsibility. I think the United States should have sent troops to Korea in 1950. I guess we had to stop communist aggression, and at least the South Korean people are free. I think the U.S. should still have troops in Korea to let the north know not to attack the south again. Would I ever go back to Korea on a revisit? No way! It's hard after all these years to recall everything about my Korean War experiences. I've forgotten many names of those I served with. My memories now of Korea are of combat, lost friends, the loneliness and sadness, miserable living conditions, fear, and rats. To me, anyone who had to live under the conditions the infantry did in Korea was a hero. If a student sees this memoir on the Korean War Educator someday, I hope he or she will know the sacrifice that the troops made, and understand that many of those heroes never came home. I don't really know why the Korean War is called "the Forgotten War." Perhaps it is because it wasn't a declared war. I know that for 25 years after leaving Korea, I very seldom talked about it, even to my new wife. I told our kids about it at their urging. I have lots of pictures from when I was in Korea and our oldest son convinced me to post the photographs on the internet. He runs the website for me. After the website opened, I contacted the Korean War Educator and decided to answer questions that resulted in this memoir. In the warm months while I was in Korea, I often wrote home. There are fewer letters from the winter months because it was too cold to write and my fingers would freeze up. My family kept the letters I wrote to them and I still have them today. Some of them are in the Addendum below as part of my Korean War memoir. Addendum
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So you see, the mortar has to have a man to observe the target area. Artillery is the same way. Those damn mortars only stand about five feet high, yet they can throw a 35 pound shell nearly four miles. We got those things too. They look like this:
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All you do is drop the shell in the barrel ass end first. When it hits the bottom it automatically sets off the propelling charge and out it comes. It makes very little noise when leaving the barrel, but oh, when it hits. So now when you hear of a mortar you'll have a good idea what it looks like and how it operates. You'd be surprised how accurate these things are. I bet a good man on one could drop a shell in your hip pocket at a range of two miles.
Well, I guess it's about time I wished you a happy birthday. I wish I could send you something, but there's nothing here to send. Well, I'm running out of talk so I guess I'll close. Give Gran my love and tell her not to worry. - Love, Joe
August 23, 1952 - Kumwha, North Korea
Dear Mary and Ade,
Well, we just had mail call and I was sure glad to see your two packages. Boy, I've sure been getting lots of packages lately and I really appreciate it. The weather has turned rotten here and it's raining like hell right now. The packages came in excellent condition. Did you get my films yet? I sure hope they arrived in good condition. Did you like those scarves? They weren't much, but I thought you'd like them for souvenirs. Don't worry about me being in any of that fighting, because I'm still 25 miles behind the lines and can't even hear the shells exploding. Yes, I'm now a full fledged sniper, so there's no need of worrying about me going to sniper school. I've already been there. A good sniper is safer than most infantry men, so you see it isn't so bad.
Well, I guess I'll close now. Thanks again for the packages and give Gran and everyone my love. - Love, Joe
P.S. - I managed to get a few of these air mail envelopes, so I'll use them first.
August 30, 1952 - Kumwha, North Korea
Dear Mary and Ade,
I got your letter and was real glad to hear that the pictures turned out so good. I haven't gotten them yet, but I expect they'll be here tomorrow or the next day. I also got a letter from you dated the 20th.
Well, tomorrow we leave reserve and go back up to the front. It's about the same place we were in before only a while ago. I heard we are staying up there for two weeks or a month and then we are pulling back into corps reserve.
Those foreign looking GI's in those pictures aren't Koreans. One is a full-blooded Apache Indian and the other is a Japanese American from California. They are both swell guys and have seen a lot of action. If I get a chance I'll send you some pictures of real Chinese soldiers, O.K.. Also some of Koreans. I am enclosing a 1000 Won Korean bill (about 10 cents in U.S. dough) for a souvenir. I can get literally tons more so let me know if any of the folks want any. I just got a Japanese yen so I'm sending that too. It's worth two cents in U.S. money. Correction, that's a 10 yen bill.
I'm getting paid tomorrow so I guess I'll send some dough to Gran. I also should send you some for paying for all that film. Maybe a belated birthday present. O.K. I'm sure glad you sent me those papers. Of all the things I want I want those most, but nobody sends any. Well, I got a lot of packing to do tonight so I guess I'd better get started. I'll write again soon so until then give Gran and everyone my love. - Love, Joe
P.S. - Never mind what snipers do.
September 4, 1952 - Sangasan, Korea
Dear Mary and Ade,
This is the first chance I've had to write since last Sunday, so I'm going to make use of it. I got the pictures and they are real nice. I also got that box of papers and a couple of letters from you. Tell Gran that my watch is still running swell, except that the band broke so I now carry it in my pocket. That picture with the X on it is a small crab. Last night I sent home $200 to Gran $50 of which will go to you for a present for all you have done for me since I've been in Korea. I'll be mad if you don't take it.
The weather over here is beginning to get real cool at night and I guess winter is not very far off. I sure enjoyed reading all those papers again. By the way, that Hopper No. 9 cleaner is swell stuff. My rifle is in perfect condition with far less work than if I didn't have any. I'm nearly all out of it so please send me about four more bottles, O.K.? Having a clean rifle is pretty important over here.
Well, it's nearly time for chow so I guess I'll close. I'll write again as soon as I can so until then give Gran and everyone my love. - Love, Joe
September 18, 1952 - Sangasan, North Korea
Dear Mary and Ade,
I got some extra time so I thought I'd put it to good use and write you a letter. We had a little excitement here a few nights ago. One of our ambush patrols of 20 GI's went out about a mile into no man's land and took up positions to wait for any Chinese that might come along. No sooner were they hidden in their positions when a force of 55 North Koreans came along and walked right into them. Let me add first that this bunch of North Koreans were on their way here to raid our positions. They didn't know any Americans would be in that particular valley. Well, as soon as the North Koreans were close enough, we opened up with everything we had. The first North Korean soldier was coming down a hill and he was hit by so many bullets that he was actually pushed right back up and over the hill. Another one was cut right in half by a machine gun. One got so close that a GI stuck his rifle barrel right into the North Korean's stomach and shot him eight times. All you could hear was moans and groans from the wounded Koreans.
We suffered too. One of our guys was shot right thru the head. In one temple and out the other. He isn't dead though, but the bullet cut his optic nerves and he will be blind the rest of his life. All together we lost seven men. Wounded that is. None were killed. Boy, those North Koreans ran like hell after about 10 minutes of hard fighting. It was real dark, but I think we killed quite a few of them. The most important thing is that we broke up a serious attack on our lines. One guy I know of emptied a clip of 20 bullets into a Korean's chest and stomach and it pushed him backwards for quite a distance. He didn't do much groaning.
Since then things have been real quiet. I guess they had enough for a while. We are supposed to pull off this line and go back into reserve again real soon, so don't start worrying. Maybe I shouldn't tell you these things, but I figure you must know so I tell you. That doesn't mean that you got to start worrying just because they made one attack. This line that I'm on is real powerful and we could have easily thrown back a much larger attack. In fact, I doubt if anyone would have got hurt if they stayed here. There's so darn much barb wire and land mines in front of our positions that it would take an awful bunch of guys just to get thru that stuff. That's not counting the tons of artillery and mortar shells we could drop on them.
Well, I got to go to chow now so I guess I'll close. Give everyone my love and don't worry. - Love, Joe
P.S. - I got a couple of your letters last night.
October 2, 1952 - Sangasan, North Korea
Well, here it is October and I'm now starting my fourth month in Korea. I got a whole mess of mail last night (6 letters) and four were from you. The ones from you were dated the 17, 19, 22 and 24. I'm sure glad you found a Coleman lantern and I'm looking forward to getting it. I haven't received any copies of the Daily News yet, but I expect them any day now. I'm not allowed to tell you what enemy hills are in front of us, but the biggest one is named like me of your tall brothers. Stella ought to know him.
I got $115 in my pay yesterday and will send most of it home. I think I'll send Marc $50 too. she sure would like to have a new winter coat, I bet. I doubt if you could get a very good coat for $50, but it'll help. I got your two packages the other day and both were in A1 condition. I've got three more rolls of film to send you so be on the lookout for them. One's colored and the other two are regulars. As for those pictures you got, have the ones of me and other persons made into billfold size prints and pay for them with my money. It would be too much trouble to send the viewer over here.
I'm now an assistant squad leader and I'm disgusted. The damn lieutenant thinks I'm a good man for it and he insisted that I take the job. I argued for a hour to get out of it, but he has a little more rank than I do, so he won. The reason he's so intent that I take the job is because the other night I led a 30-man ambush patrol a mile into Chinese territory and got them back safe. I was point man. Point man is the first one in line. A patrol walks in a single file and the point has the job of looking out where we are going and to watch out for Chink patrols. That was the fourth patrol I led and I volunteered for point man on them all. The longest one was when we went two miles into Chinese territory. I'm telling you this, because these patrols are at a end till next May so there's no need to worry at all. There are no patrols in the winter.
Well, I'm running out of talk so I'll close. Give my love to everyone. - Love, Joe
P.S. - Don't forget to send me some fruitcake if you have it for Thanksgiving.
October 12, 1952 - Sangasan, North Korea
Well, I guess I'm a little late in writing this time, but it's the first chance I've had. We have been pretty busy lately and free time is hard to find. I suppose you've been reading in the paper about all the action we have been having. Well, it's pretty quiet now and I think the worst is past. They haven't brought any mail up here since the 6th, so I can't tell you whether the lantern or papers came yet.
We will be back in reserve by the time you get this letter, so don't worry. There's about three more days left here before we go back. I'm pretty sure we will be off the line until at least Christmas. This outfit has been due for a long reserve for quite a while and guess this is it coming.
The weather over here is getting real cold and I sure could use a nice pair of fur-lined gloves. Take some money out of my savings and get me a good pair for this winter, O.K.?
Well, I guess that's about all I've got to say, so I guess I'll close. I'll write more later so until then give Gran and everyone my love. - Love, Joe
October 27, 1952, Kumwha, N. Korea
Dear Mary and Ade,
Well, the old mail has certainly been arriving in bunches lately. Yesterday I got your packages, one with the toll house cookies and other with the papers. Those cookies were real good. Today I got three packages and a few letters from you. That fruit cake was the most delicious cake I ever ate. I can't wait till the next one arrives. I also got a letter from Marc. Those books were just what I wanted and you couldn't have done better.
Things around here are fairly quiet yet. A little Chink artillery comes in most every day, but it's not enough to matter. Hey, I heard some guys say that Franco-American Spanish Rice is delicious. Since I like rice so much, send me a couple of cans so I can try the stuff out. Say, did Marc ever send that spaghetti? If she has it hasn't come yet. Another Daily News came today and it was dated Sept. 20. There's no sign of the lantern yet. I guess the Chinks got it when they jumped that four-man mail detail. Oh well, I'll wait a couple of more weeks then if it doesn't come I guess you'll have to invest another $12 for another one. Those things come in mighty handy when it's cold.
How about those colored pictures? Did you get them back yet? I mean the ones you had made into pictures. I didn't send the film yet, but will as soon as I finish taking this next roll. Well, November 4 I start my 5th month in Korea. If all goes well I only have four more months to go,I'll sure be glad to get out of this damn place. I've seen enough to last me the rest of my life. All that action didn't exactly leave their company at full strength. Nowhere near it in fact.
Well, I can't think of much more to say, so I guess I'll close. Thanks again for the packages and tell Gran I'm glad her legs are better. Give her and everyone my love. - Love, Joe
November 22, 1952 - Koje-do
Dear Mary & Ade,
I just got off guard so I thought I'd drop you a few lines before I hit the sack. The fruit cake got here on the 18th and it was sure delicious. The boys said you sure can bake a swell cake. I also got a letter from you and one from Gran and another from Marc. The weather way down here is a lot warmer than up at Kumwha and it doesn't rain so much. I'm now about 500 miles away from the front lines so there's no need to worry. The compound I help guard has 1100 North Korean prisoners and it is a T.B. section of the camp. They call this whole section of Koje the East Valley.
November 25 -
I didn't finish this letter when I started it because we had to go out and quiet a small riot in one of the prisoner compounds. The mail has been real good about getting here lately and I got the Spanish rice and also the spaghetti. They came on the 23rd. Today I got a letter from Marc and one from Carol. I still haven't sent those films along to you, but will do so soon. Most of them are pictures from the "Yoke" up in Kumwha. The rest are of Koje.
The living conditions down here are 100% better than the front. We now live in tents with electric lights and nice warm stoves. We have a big PX (store) and a swell service club with a snack bar and library. Best of all, we get a full night's sleep instead of three hours a night.
Guess what. Our Lieutenant just walked in the tent and handed me my PFC stripes. No more Pvt. now. Well, I guess I'll sew my stripes on so I'll close for now. Give my love to Gran and all and I'll write again soon. Love, PFC Joe
P.S. - We will have turkey and all the dressings for Thanksgiving.
P.S. Again - If you're wondering why the printed air mail on the envelope is crossed, it's because we were ordered to write it out. Don't ask me why because I don't know.
December 17, 1952 - Koje-do
Dear Mary and Ade,
Well, your three big boxes came the day before yesterday, and I sure can't thank you folks enough. All of the guys as well as myself were amazed at all the stuff. Boy, you sure sent just what I can use. Corinne's box also came and it too was packed full of swell things. I also got a box from Ellie about a week ago and tell her that candy was tops. The package with the watch and pictures hasn't come yet, but I expect it any day now. Boy, I still can't get over all the stuff that you people sent. It sure was a grand present.
I'm a little short of money this month so I can't send any home, so will you tell Gran to give you some of my savings and would you please get her, Marc, Ellie and Corinne each a nice present. Don't worry about your present. I got a special one for you. Also get about $10.00 more and get a present for a certain girl. O.K.? I can't get what she likes over here so that's why I'd like you to get it for me. get a real good identification bracelet and a good ring with the initials B.B. engraved on it. On the bracelet have the following engraved [deleted from this letter on the KWE]. Wrap it up for her and send it to that address. The ring size should be about the same as yours. I know I'm putting you thru a lot of trouble, but I sure wish I was there to do it myself.
Well, I've now got to start a letter to Gran and Marc and tell them what to get you. So I'll close for now and thanks again for the real swell presents. - Love, Joe
January 18, 1953 - Korea
Dear Mary & Ade,
Well, here we are back in Korea. We are in reserve about 10 miles behind the front lines. I don't know where we are, but I hear we are somewhere north of Seoul. We are to be in reserve for three weeks, but are subject to call in case anybody loses a hill to the Reds. That is anyone on the 7th Division front.
We didn't get any mail for two weeks before we left Koje, so I'm now getting letters dated December 26 and earlier. The colored photos and the watch haven't come yet. I've now got about 21 points. Need 36 to rotate. The papers are still coming and I got the small funnies you mailed. I did get that chocolate turkey and it was real good. Also the X-mas boxes were in excellent shape.
Tomorrow morning I leave Korea for my 10 days rest in Japan. Any G.I. who has been in Korea over six months gets what they call R&R. Six other guys are going with me. Be on the lookout for your pajamas. I'm writing this letter by the light of the good old Coleman which is still in A-1 condition, but I'm running short of those silk bags.
The weather here is bitter cold so please don't worry if I don't write as often as I did when it was warm. As I told you before, if anything ever happened to me, you'd know about it in less than 48 hours, so if mail from me is a little slack sometimes it's because it's almost impossible to write. Don't worry, I write every chance I get, but when it's about 20 below zero, it gets kind of hard, especially when the damn ink freezes.
We have been issued a new kind of rubber boot that acts on the same principal as a thermos bottle and boy are they swell. My feet are never cold, no matter how cold the weather is outside. In fact, they're always sweating.
A Korean just know told me we are now near Chun-chon, so look it up on the map and you'll see where I am. Say, how did you make out on that bracelet? I sure hope it wasn't too much trouble. I just couldn't get one here.
Well, I can't think of much more to say, so I guess I'll close. Give everyone my love. - Love, Joe
P.S. - Call Gran and tell her okay what she said about the present. She'll know what you mean. I also got a card from the Daily News that the subscription for the paper expires soon so have someone renew it, okay?
January 28, 1953 - Central Front, Korea
Dear Mary & Ade,
I just got done writing to Gran and I thought I'd use this little time I got left to write you. I've got all your letters telling about my lack of writing and I'm sorry. I'm certainly not mad at you. How could I get mad at people who have done so much for me? It's just that it's so damn cold that your fingers freeze if you keep them out of your gloves very long. Besides, my damn ink freezes. I just got back from my five days rest in Japan and I'm now sitting next to the stove in the company command post writing this letter. Tomorrow morning I go back up on the line where the rest of the company now is.
I had my rest in Hokura on Kyushu, which is the southern-most island of Japan. I and eight of my buddies really enjoyed living again and sure hated to come back. I sent you those pajamas you wanted and hope you like them. I suggest you send out a tracer on that watch and colored pictures because they haven't come yet.
Well, I think I'll sit the sack and get a little sleep so I'll close for now. I'll write as soon as I get another chance, but in the meantime don't worry. - Love, Joe
P.S. Thanks a lot for getting and taking the bracelet and ring to Betsy.
February 2, 1953 - T-Bone, Korea
Dear Gran and Marc,
Well, since we're back on line I've got a little more time to devote to letter writing. We are now directly in front of T-bone hill and for once we look down on the Chinks instead of them looking down on us as usual. These hills we are on are real high and I doubt if the Chinks could ever take them away from us.
The weather here is awful cold and it usually never goes above 15 or 20 all day. Last night it was 12 below zero and I was out on a patrol and had to lie on the ground 3 hours just 100 yards from the Chinese (a night patrol) front lines. I was one of a group of 40 men on a combat patrol. Things went smoothly though, and we didn't meet any Chinks. These patrols may sound dangerous, but we really have excellent protection all the while we are out, big 105, 155 and 8-inch artillery guns fire if we meet a lot of Chinks. Let me tell you those big guns can sure plaster any area they are requested to fire on. Remember that last line I was on where we were attacked? Well, in just 48 hours artillery and mortars fired 42,000 shells at Chinese troops. Say, if you get a chance send me some pancake mix and a bottle of syrup. We got a small wood stove in our bunker and I thought it would be nice to flip a few pancakes once in a while. Also I could use some nice big candles as that's the only light we have up here. Send the stuff air mail or it'll never get here.
Tell Mary that the watch and colored pictures haven't come yet and I think she'd better go down and check on them. The other pictures also haven't arrived yet. I did get her toll-house cookies today and they were sure good. I see that Mary and Ade met the Briggs. Boy, that kind of took me by surprise. I sure feel sorry for Tom. Poor kid he sure had a rough life home. I think he'll regret he joined the Army though, because it sure isn't the easiest life. I sure hope he never has to come over here.
I got a letter from Julian Wojna the other day and he's still in Germany and will be for another year. Well, can't think of anything else to say so I'll close for now. Give my love to Gran and everyone. - Love, Joe
P.S. - I think the Daily News expired.
March 8, 1953 - Chorwon Valley, North Korea
Dear Mary & Ade,
Well, I just got done eating some delicious pancakes. Boy, you can't imagine how good those cakes tasted. All the flour is gone already and I sure wish I had a barrel of it. I also got the candles the same day (6th) and they were in excellent condition. On the 7th I got three letters from you dated the 24, 26, 27. That was the first mail I got in 6 days. The days over here are quite a lot warmer, but it rains a lot. Sometimes when ____________
little snacks, make it that. I got those cherries quite a while ago and they were real good. I guess you might as well send me another set of those pictures, because I guess the other ones will never come. I suggest you camouflage them in a small food package because maybe the Army stopped the others because they contained pictures of fighting positions. I've got $150 to send to Gran, but I never get a chance to see the mail clerk to get a money order made. I'll send it along as soon as I do though.
Well, by the end of March I'll have 30.3 points and I guess it won't be too much longer before I can get out of here. Boy, Tommy better hope he never comes over here. I don't think he'd like to have those chinks artillery and mortar shells falling all around him all the time, not to mention those combat and ambush patrols that take you up to two miles into enemy territory. Then there's the problem of staying up all night and sleeping from 7 to 12 if you're lucky. There's a million other things too, but he'll find out what it's like if he ever gets here.
Well, chow just came in so I'm going to sign off for a while and eat. Give my love to Gran and everyone. - Love, Joe
March 25, 1953 - Cobak-kol, North Korea
Dear Mary and Ade,
Well, things sure got lively around here in the last couple of days. The Chinks are sure raising cane over on Old Baldy five miles to our left and on T-bone to our direct front and also on Alligator Jaw one mile to our right. We sure are in the middle of things. Our outposts are both on parts of T-bone, but as yet have had little trouble. Their names are Erie and Arsenal. Arsenal is the one closest to the Chinks. Our artillery and mortars have been giving the Chinks hills a terrific shelling and the air here is just whining with big shells on their way to Chink territory. Our company is being reinforced with another company because they expect the Chinks to try and take Arsenal at any moment. No need to worry though, because our main line is a fortress and we've got plenty of everything.
I got your big Easter box yesterday and it arrived in excellent condition. Boy, I sure liked its contents and it has just what I like. In fact, it won't be much longer before it's all gone. Thanks a lot for sending it, it sure is appreciated. Keep your eye on your television set, because there was a newsman from NBC television up here the other day and he took a lot of pictures of me and some of my buddies. He took pictures of us firing and walking thru muddy trenches. He said the film was going to New York to be put on the air, so keep your eyes open. I'm sure glad you all gave Gran a television set, because I know that's just what she wanted to finish up the apartment. Well, can't think of much more to say, so I guess I'll close. Give my love to Gran and all. - Love, Joe
April 19, 1953 - Pork Chop Hill - North Korea
Dear Mary and Ade,
Well, here we are in the thick of it again. They pulled us out of reserve the other day and sent us up here. Boy, we sure been catching hell. I mean the 17th, not Charlie Company. As yet we haven't been committed to battle, but we are in a assembly area about two miles behind Pork Chop. Company F of the 17th was completely wiped out the other night and Companies H and G had almost 50% casualties. I never saw such a bitter battle anywhere else in Korea. The chinks have been pouring off of Hasakkol Ridge and up to Pork Chop in wave after wave.
Last night was the first fairly quiet night for quite a while and I sure hope the chinks have decided to quit. The old 7th Division has sure lost a lot of men these past months. If those damn gooks don't lay off real soon, I'm afraid we are going to have to go up because there's no one else left to go. Charlie Company sure has been lucky these last few days, because if we had gone up instead of Fox Company, I don't think I'd be around now. Oh well, no sense in worrying over it, because it sure won't help things. It's time for chow once again so I'll sign off for a while. Give my love to Gran and all. - Love, Joe"
April 21, 1953 - Pork Chop Hill - North Korea
Dear Mary and Ade,
We started out at 2 a.m. and were in position at 5 a.m. We were allowed to stay only 24 hours because of the terrible conditions on the hill. In that short period we had one man killed and six seriously wounded. We received 250 artillery and mortar rounds in that short time.
All I did when I was up there was to remove the hundreds of dead bodies from the bunkers and trenches. I never saw and never hope to see such a mess as I did that day. There's not one blade of grass or anything else green on that hill. It's just a big pile of sand. I feel sorry for the new replacements. They look so happy. If they only knew what is waiting for them they'd be a lot sadder. I heard our major say that any man that lived thru ten months of this stuff sure had been to hell. Well, not many live through it, believe me. - Love, Joe
May 3, 1953 - Korea
Dear Mary & Ade,
Well, here we are once again on line. We moved up on the 1st and most of us guys were sent out here to the outpost. The place is named Erie and I've been up here twice since I've been in Korea. This is no strange place to me and I know this sector like the palm of my hand. Arsenal outpost is about one half mile in front of us. That's where I was last time.
No word on rotation yet and I don't know when I'll leave here. It might not be until the 27th or 28th of May. I'm enclosing another $100 for Gran so she'll have a little extra this month. Like I said before, you don't need to ask me if it's alright for Gran to use the money I send. I told you it's up to her. I've still got another $150 in my billfold, so you see I won't be caught short.
Say, what's the matter with this mail? Nobody's writing anymore but you. Boy, people sure forget awful easy. Well, there's only eight left out of the 42 I came in the company with. Another man got hit. I'm running out of talk so I'll close. Give my love to Gran and all and let's get some of those letter writers on the ball. - Love, Joe
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