21 Regimental Combat Team

In June 1950, the total strength of the U.S. Army was about 600,000 men. Two-thirds were in the continental United States. Eighty thousand were in Germany and about 108,000 were in the Far East as occupation troops. Four infantry divisions were on garrison in Japan. All units were under strength. Their equipment--tanks, mortars, rifles and trucks of World War II vintage were in poor condition. Their purpose was to insure against any resurgence of Japanese militarism. They were not combat units.

We should recall that Russia entered the war against Japan two days before the first nuclear strike and the Japanese sued for peace while the Russians were pouring in several divisions into North Korea. It was suggested that the 38th parallel be the line of demarcation. On V-J day, we had 12 million men in service, i.e. 1945. By July of 1947, this had shrunk to one million with 40,000 troops in South Korea. These troops were gradually removed so that by June of 1950 there were but 472 officers and men serving as Korean military advisors. It was intended that the Korean army be capable of token resistance only and while we left them considerable arsenal, we did not leave them any tanks, airplanes, or heavy navy craft. The Rhea govt was considered to be unstable!

During the five years of 1945 to 1950 while the Americans were enjoying post-war prosperity and demobilizing, Russia did not demobilize and their post-war truculent behavior was consistently evident. There was no inclination on the part of the Russians to withdraw from Iran or Tito, of Yugoslavia, from Triest. However, Harry Truman was very insistent and eventually these two countries withdrew. He also brought great pressure on the Russians for withdrawal from Austria, an action that took several years more to accomplish.

North Korea, with the Russians dominating their armed forces with 3,000 military advisors, aggressively developed a 125,000 man army equipped with heavy tanks, artillery and aircraft. Its dictator, Kim II Sung was outspoken for the unification of the North and South. The North had the industrial complex, the South was principally agricultural.

The frenzied demand of the citizen soldiers to return to civil life left the medical corp crippled in its ability to care for the troops and families in the many theaters where there were remaining American forces, i.e. Germany, Japan, etc. I entered the regular Army in April 1948 and was assigned to Fitzsimons Army Hospital in Denver, Colorado. After one year of internship I was chosen to continue a three year residency in Internal Medicine. In January of 1950, I was informed there was an acute shortage of physicians for dispensaries in Japan and that 42 Army physicians in the various teaching hospitals were selected as a reward for their excellent performance for a 90-day TDY in Japan. Having been reared in rural Iowa and never out of the country, I looked upon this as a great opportunity. We were flown over via commercial airlines. On arrival in Tokyo, three of us were “pipelined” to the southern island of Japan, Kyushu and the 24th division. The three of us reported to Major Heritage, division surgeon, and were promptly informed that since we were going to be there for 90 days, we should draw straws for the three positions. My two colleagues were more fortunate in that they were assigned Sasibo and Bepu. I was assigned to division headquarters dispensary and had the additional responsibility of filling in at our other dispensaries when units of the division were on maneuvers.

On June 25, 1950, the North Koreans unleashed their attack. This had not been anticipated by us because of our inadequate intelligence as well as our overall disdain for the Korean commitment. Spearheaded by 36,000 troops and 54 T34 tanks, they attacked during the monsoon season. The morale and fighting spirit of ROK troops vanished in less than a week. It became immediately apparent that the major tactical problem was to find a means of halting the dreaded Soviet built tanks. Their clanking treads and steel shielding terrorized the ROK foot soldiers. If this would not occur, they could drive down the peninsula at will.

Between June 25, 1950 and June 30th, President Truman and his advisors perceived that this was a Russian directed plot--a test as to whether the United Nations and, in particular, the united States had the will and the ability to halt communist military expansion. In five days, the commitment of America for the defense of the Republic of Korea occurred in four phases:

1) Air and naval protection was provided to Japan for the evacuation of American civilians.

2) Within a matter of three days, this same air/naval action became active south of the 38th parallel in support of the ROK army.

3) With total disintegration of the ROK army, extension of the air and naval action beyond the 38th parallel followed. 4) It was obvious that this would not be effective unless American ground troops were introduced into the combat zone.

In this same period of time, the United Nations in the absence of Russia, which had walked out several months before, labeled the North Korean invasion a breach of United Nations agreement and supported the concept of a “police action”. At home, the actions of President Truman and his cabinet were never supported by congress by declaring war, However, at this time an overwhelming majority supported the executive branch’s actions. Harry Truman called this a “police action”. To every survivor of this war, it was an ill-advised description. More apply, Mr. Harriman called it “a sour little war”.

My first introduction to the Korean War was to serve as the physician responsible for the care of the approximately 700 Americans, military advisors and their families who were evacuated from South Korea on a Norwegian stinking fertilizer ship. At the conclusion of this relatively short trip, amongst the women and children there was much hysteria and bickering. I had been sent from Kokura to the Port of Sasibo to establish an aid station. After three days of serving this frazzled group, I was sitting in the officer's club about 10 o'clock in the evening and received a phone call from division headquarters. They ordered me to report to Itazuke Air Force Base by 0600 hours the following morning. I was instructed to be in full field attire. The remainder of the evening was spent scurrying about on a strange base for equipment. Captain Anderson, MSC assisted me. He later was captured (Died Captured). This mission was accomplished short of finding field boots. In a driving rain, I was jeeped over lousy roads to the air base and assigned as battalion surgeon to companies A & B of the first battalion of the 21st infantry regiment, 24th division. I met for the first time the medics of this unit on our transport plane.

Lieutenant Colonel Smith, commanding officer of the first battalion, 21st infantry regiment that same evening had been directed to mobilize companies B & C of his battalion to proceed to Itazuke Air Base, some 75 miles distant from their home base and to fly to Korea immediately. Colonel Smith had many gaps in his rifle platoons which he filled by borrowing replacements from the third battalion. By 3 o'clock in the morning, Colonel Smith had assembled his officers and non-corns, i.e. 400 plus men.

Their firepower was pitifully meager. Less than a third of the officers had any combat experience. Only one in six of the men had ever faced the enemy. The majority were 20 years old or less. American's peace time army was off to war!!!

The events over the next few days made it readily clear that we were on a suicide mission. I vividly recall on the second or third day after landing in Korea that a General Church indicated to us that we were a token of America's willingness to fight. When this was appreciated by the North Koreans, they would reconsider. I also recall that it had been rumored that the tanks could not perform successfully in Korea because they were road bound. These were the very same tanks that had struck terror in the ROK troops and had stopped the German drive to Moscow.

My first act on the C54 transport was to introduce myself to the aid station personnel. To this day, I vividly recall looking at these young men and knowing that few of us were well trained for intense combat. I noted that each soldier had an extra pair of boots strung across their neck. My first action was to ask who wore 8 1/2C boots. The raise of a hand by a PVT prompted the loss of his extra boots so I could go into Korea wearing appropriate footwear.

On arrival in Korea, we were trucked to Pusan and marched through the streets to the cheers of the multitude before we boarded a freight train. As we moved north there was a steady stream of civilian and military troops who were walking and trucking south. We disembarked at Pyongtek where the day before the Australian airforce pilots had mistakenly bombed a train with nine ammunition cars. It should be pointed out that our airforce had caused havoc on the North Koreans and, indeed, was a significant fact in slowing the advance of the North Korean army. It was necessary for their divisions to regroup regularly for supplies. An army marches on its stomach, needs refueling and ammunition. Moreover, after their first flush of victory, they concluded that meaningful resistance to the North Korean Juggernaut was absent and Korea was theirs.

It was this complacency which permitted the Pusan Perimeter to survive. On the 4th of July, Lieutenant Colonel Smith and his staff officers (including me) jeeped to our defense position and planned the disposition of the infantry and the position of our aid station. On the evening of the 4th of July, under steady rain and pitch dark, we moved out of Pyongtek and three miles beyond Osan to our blocking position. The Korean drivers would not go north so we had to drive the old worn out Korean trucks that we had commandeered. Exhausted from events of the past days, the two companies immediately began moving into position under the dark. It was known that the tanks would be coming down the road and the instruction was to shoot for the treads to stop them. The acute bend in the road would leave them ideally exposed.

The medics were the last in the transport line. The lead truck which I was in became overheated and we had to repeatedly stop to fill the radiator with water. Because of this difficulty in transportation, we were at last an hour behind the two companies of infantry. Fortunately, I marked our departure point off the road with white gauze. The aid station was to be on the backs lope of a large hill which overlooked both the road and railroad where it was anticipated that the North Korean troops would be coming. The infantry was to be on the forward slope of this large hill. I had also left markers along the way because I knew we would have to find our area under total darkness and we had to traverse across several rice paddies to get into position. Initially, the medics were reticent to follow me. Only a few were willing but as morning light began to filter through the rain more and more of the medics fell into position. We were unarmed and there was fear that the North Koreans might already be in position. Also, there was no contact with the two companies ahead. Recall that I knew none of these troops, had never been in a field exercise with them and as a 27-year-old captain with no prior combat experience was an untried leader. Unfortunately, the medical service corp officer who had trained with them on maneuvers and was their officer in charge was not available. Lieutenant Colonel smith had assigned him other duties. Eventually the litter bearers were dispersed behind the companies and a lean-to tent was put up as an aid station. We were in position by 0600 hours. About 8 o'clock and over the next frantic few hours, 33 Russian tanks lumbered down the road and as they made that hairpin turn they exposed their bellies to our well-positioned bazooka team. Unfortunately, the 2.36 inch bazooka was ineffective in stopping these Russian tanks, a fact I later learned had been known since World War II. Certainly our bazooka team with their second lieutenant officers (recent graduates of West Point) did not appreciate this fact.

The tanks were uninterested in any of the medics on the backs lope of the hill. They lumbered down the road toward Pyongtek. The capture of this road precluded any evacuation of the wounded by motor transportation. Our worn out trucks had been seized by the enemy. In regard to artillery that had zeroed in on their tanks, they disabled only three or four tanks because of the absence of “piercing shells”. Such piercing shells were not in their arsenal. "This was not tank country". We also did not have appropriate landmines to halt the column.

General James M. Gavin, commander of the 82nd airborne division World War II in his book “On to Berlin”, wrote the following:

“One of the disturbing aspects of U.S. troops in Sicily was that they learned that the 2.36 inch bazooka caused many of them to be killed because they were not effective against German armor. The Germans captured a number of them and immediately applied the principle on which they were based for the development of their own weapon. In Normandy, I first came across weapons labeled “faustpetrone”. It was a small warhead of approximately 3 inches made like the bazooka, round on a wooden stem. By the time we got to Holland the Germans had developed a 6-inch warhead on a stem that could be fired from a pipe about 3 inches in diameter. Only the stem was inserted in the pipe. It could penetrate the front plate of any known tank and was an extremely effective weapon for many uses. Even as late as 1950 at the time of the beginning of the Korean War the U.S. Army had not placed into the hands of its troops a weapon any better than those that had failed them in Sicily.” Some years later, I wrote General Gavin and asked him how such a grave error could be obviated. He felt that a civilian committee for oversight of weapon assessment should be created.

Later in the morning of July 5th, 4,000 North Korean infantry struck our position. We were vastly outnumbered and were in a vice, i.e. the tanks to the south and the North Koreans infantry in front and would soon be outflanked. The purpose of our existence was to slow the North Korean's advance as long as possible as well as to demonstrate that they now faced more formidable foe than the shattered ROK army. Though the fighting was intense, it was a simple task for the communist troops to outflank these two small companies. A broad spectrum of wounds quickly found their way to my aid station where we feverishly worked in the pouring rain. The canvas shelter was not protective in the drenching rain and equipment and supplies were very inadequate for the number and severity of wounds. For the wounded who could walk, I directed them to the east across the rice paddies with the hope that they would find assistance to the rear. There was no alternative. The roads behind me where I had positioned trucks to evacuate the wounded to the rail station were commanded by Russian tanks.

After approximately two hours of fighting, it was obvious that our situation was hopeless and Lieutenant Colonel Smith evacuated his remaining troops. In the chaos, this information arrived at the aid station as follows. Suddenly a lieutenant came running over the hill and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the aid station surrounded by many seriously wounded soldiers. He yelled, “What the hell are you doing here?” You could imagine what I told him. We were well aware of imminent capture and I decided to stay with the wounded. However, in a matter of seconds, North Korean troops came around the hill and began to open fire on us though our Red Cross markings were clearly exposed and we had no weapons. As I knelt over several severely wounded soldiers, I remember one looking at me and telling me that all was lost and I should get the hell out of there. I grabbed Chaplain Hudson and made a break across the rice paddies. It was impossible to sustain a run because on the narrow, wet, muddy rice paddy ledges balance failed and we repeatedly fell into the rice paddies. Fortunately, the North Koreans were not interested in immediately chasing us but were more interested in the equipment and wounded left behind. In our retreat, I came upon wounded GI’s and treated them as best I could. The many haggard, extremely fatigued and depressed soldiers grouped together and found from each other the strength to traverse the rugged terrain the many miles to safety. To my dismay, a third of our original unit either were killed, wounded or captured by the North Koreans. Within the next few days, our battalion was reconstituted and we were back in combat by July 10th and 11th at Cochiwon.

Over the next three months, I was in one delaying action after another as we became contracted into a tiny piece of the southern tip of Korea, i.e. the Pusan Perimeter. By August, I had been promoted to major and regimental surgeon. To this day, I have little recall of a one week period when the 21st regiment aid station was the only functioning evacuation route in the Pusan Perimeter. So intense was the number and complexity of casualties that we suffered from extreme fatigue. We never quit. The men of this regimental aid station served with distinction.

During the Pusan Perimeter period, our lines were regularly punctured by enemy. The challenge was to remove the wounded to the battalion aid station and then to the regimental medical clearing unit. Short of personnel, I hired young Koreans to assist our medics as litter bearers. It is no easy physical task for four men to carry a wounded over rough terrain to a litter jeep. My jeep drivers found few roads but moved their jeeps as far forward as possible. To me, my heroes were the frontline medics, the litter bearers and the litter jeep drivers who risked their lives to evacuate the wounded. Whenever a medic replacement reported, their first assigned task was to climb a large hill and carry by litter a fallen soldier. I wanted them to appreciate this difficult task. Also, because of the instability of our line, I never set up in a new position without securing it with our own BAR teams. Poor communication and the chaos made it too easy to be left behind. The severe shortage of personnel made it imperative that we not evacuate any soldier who could remain and fight. Superficial wound, various infections, lost glasses, abscessed teeth, diarrhea, exhaustion, anxiety and depression, etc. were treated at the regimental level. Why?

Once shipped to the rear, I was uncertain of their return. While in combat, the physician must serve the “lame and wounded” but also must protect those who stand and fight by evacuating only those who can no longer do so!

For me, some months later, the creation of 21st Infantry Brigade which moved up the west coast of North Korea almost to the Yalu River was a tribute to those who had fallen or were captured at Osan. For those of us that had survived, were challenged and tested by repeated combat, the transformation of the 21st regiment to a courageous and effective fighting machine was ours and their finest hour.