“Marks watched us all sitting there in silence as he finished shaving and said, “I won’t pretend you boys are all sitting here for my company, so I’ll get right to it.”
“He drew a map in the sand just like this one and said, “The plan is for us to stretch the six hundred men you see around us over a half mile wide and swing from west to east across the breadth of Pusan. As we proceed, we should free up reinforcements from the city.”
“When's this?" Buddy asked.
"Move out at first light tomorrow," Marks said. "I know yesterday was rough going, but at least we've got a full day now to recover. Take advantage, get plenty to eat and as much rest as you can."
“How’s your leg?” one of the boys across the fire asked.
“Marks gave a reflexive tap at his left thigh, the limb swollen much larger than his right. “I’ll live."
“Our goal accomplished, we all set off in different directions. Jack and I spent most of the day alternating between sleeping and eating. Once in the afternoon we had to fetch water, but that was all.
“Around dinner time, Buddy took us from fire to fire and introduced us to the guys he came in with. They were from just outside of Louisville and almost all of them shared a thick southern drawl. Most had the look of farm boys turned soldiers, with deep weathered tans, close cropped hair, and unfailing manners."
My uncle motioned back up towards the house and said, “That night we were sitting by the fire about to turn in when Marks found us and motioned to follow him. Neither one of us had any idea what it was about, but we jumped up and ran after him quick as we could.
“He didn't say anything as he led us through camp and into a tent. Rollins was seated inside at a small folding table serving as a makeshift desk. Papers were strewn across it and he was examining one with a magnifying glass as we stood and wondered what was going on.
“Everything stayed that way for several minutes until Marks cleared his throat, forcing Rollins to look up. It seemed he had aged several years overnight as deep wrinkles creased his brow and his hair was matted to his forehead.
“Sergeant Marks tells me you boys handled yourself pretty well under fire,” he opened.
“There was nothing in that statement resembling a question, so we both kept our mouth shut.
“Also tells me you boys helped carry him out of there,” he said and again paused for a response that never came. “Last night, I lost five officers in this regiment alone. Sergeant Marks here has suggested that I promote you both to Corporal.”
“I couldn't help but let my gaze shift towards Jack, who continued to stare straight ahead. Rollins noticed and smiled, that being all the sign he was looking for. “Congratulations gentlemen. Sergeant Marks will present you with your proper insignia.”
“We each murmured ‘thank-you’ and saluted before following Marks out into the evening air.
“Is that true?” I asked as soon as we cleared earshot, astonishment plain on my face.
“Right as rain gentlemen,” Marks replied. “You covered my ass, now I’m covering yours.”
“He handed each of us ours bars and shook our hands. “I’ll see you boys at dawn.”
“The next page in the album is the insignia given to a Corporal. Both of us would rise to ranks higher than that, but that one made the album because it meant the most.
“It was given to us under the recommendation of our superior officer for excellence in battle at a time when we were just a week into the Army. The other ranks we received were for excellence as soldiers, but that first one was for excellence of character.
“Neither one of us had been around long enough to really know much soldiering. Everything we had done the night before was pure instinct. We had been shoved into the craziest of situations and made it out the other side.
“It might sound a little corny or outdated, but to us it meant a great deal.”
Chapter Twenty-One
I expected my uncle to take a short pause before continuing with the story. Each time before, he would finish a particular page and retreat back into himself for several minutes. His eyes would glaze over and his breathing would slow as he stared off at some distant point.
Whether he was collecting himself for the next item, reliving the previous one, or trying to compose himself before going on, I’ll never know.
For the first time though, he pushed on without delay.
“That night the sleeplessness returned," he began. "The day of rest managed to relieve the exhaustion and the impending march set our nerves on edge again. Adding to it was our new rank, though Buddy and some of the others encouraged us to wear them with pride. They told us we’d earned them, and that was all anybody really cared about.
“At dawn our division assembled itself on the periphery of the gathering. The makeshift camp was thrown together in a thin spot of the forest without a clearing of any size we could use as a drill ground. Instead, we arranged ourselves the best we could amongst the trees.
“There was an uneasiness in the air as we stood and waited, punctuated by Rollins pacing back and forth in front of us. After almost an hour of inertia, the South Koreans joined us, falling in place at the rear. Their commander ambled by us and strolled to the front, where he was promptly given a good tongue lashing by Rollins.
“I was too far back to hear what was said, but it looked like he gave him hell.
“It was not a good sign that the men who were going to be fighting with us were almost an hour late for our first day together. Very few of them had anything resembling uniforms, most were bare footed and carrying antique weapons.
"One man even came along carrying a club with barbed wire wrapped around it. It was the only time I ever noticed it though, so I’m not sure if he found a rifle or if a rifle found him.
“Once we had everybody assembled, we set out. Rollins fanned us out and took the lead, picking our way through the countryside. To the rear was the South Korean leader, Major Pak.
“The regiment was broken into rows of four across with gaps of ten yards or so between each group. The idea was to allow immediate support in the event of enemy fire and to keep casualties at a minimum if ambushed.
“I walked in the middle right position of a group. On my right was a barrel-chested soldier from our regiment named Benny Butler. He had the thick arms and legs of a man that could bale hay for days and had the scratches on both arms to prove he had. On my left was Jack and to his left was Buddy.
“The going was slow, trekking our way through the thick forest. After the scene on the beach, everybody was paranoid of land mines and was careful to choose each step they took. We were also sure to be as quiet as possible and by noon we'd covered a total of about six miles.
“Sometime around midday, with the sun high over our head, we came across a stream and the line was ordered to stop. As soon as they saw the water, many men fell to their knees and removed their helmets, lapping it up in handfuls or sticking their entire head in.
“We should have known it was the most obvious place for an ambush. It was the only water we had come across all morning. Any leader worth their salt would recognize that was the easiest place to hit an oncoming enemy.”
My uncle fell silent for a moment before tossing the stick in his hand into the lake. He scoffed aloud and shook his head.
“The tat-tat-tat of machine gun fire took every one of us by surprise. One guy was bent over scooping up water when a bullet struck him from behind and tossed him face first into the stream. For a moment everyone stood and watched as blood fanned from his head in great looping arcs, floating ribbons of red encasing his body.
"A moment later, the reality of it registered with us and we dropped to the ground.
“As a group, the four of us crawled our way to a tree stump and began returning fire. The opposite bank of the stream was a solid wall of vegetation, punctuated every few yards by the muzzle flash of enemy fire.
“The leaves were too thick to make out any particular targ
ets and at first we just shot blind, spraying everything in sight with bullets. Before long, the leaves were cut to ribbons and dark shapes began to emerge.
“The initial outburst lasted about fifteen minutes, dying out as fast as it had started. Taking their dead and wounded with them, the North Koreans retreated backwards and disappeared without a trace.
“We lay entrenched where we were for several minutes before emerging and moving forward across the stream. Marks came down the line and made sure each of us were alright. He told us we were going to cautiously pursue and that scouts had been sent on ahead.
“For the rest of the afternoon, things went back to the way they'd been all morning. The sun blazed down on us and our fatigues clung to our skin with sweat. A couple of times we thought we heard enemy fire, but it was our own guys getting antsy. Just one long nerve wracking march.
“At dusk that all changed.”
With his finger, he drew another diagram in the sand. “About fourteen miles northeast of Pusan, the forest gave way to a valley. We were still pushing west to east when we stumbled on it, the forest receding and giving way to a sharp decline. What had been soil and trees all day long was now nothing but flinty ridge and rock.
“The marching procession ground to a stop as everyone tried to figure out what to do. A few of the men stepped from the trees and made their way to the edge of the ravine. They took off their helmets and let the light breeze rush up the rock face and wash over them.”
My uncle paused again, his tone shifting.
“Instead of leading with machine gun fire this time, they started by lobbing shells at us. Big phosphorescent shells that bathed us in blinding light and gave their machine gunners targets to aim at.
“The first shells landed a few yards down from us, shaking the ground we stood on. Right after them came the repetitive tatter of machine gun fire and the whizzing of bullets flying through the trees.
“On first impact we flattened ourselves to the ground. We stayed that way until there was a break in the volley and I had just about wrestled my gun out from under me when the second round of shells hit.
“One found its way to where we were lying and smashed into the ground between Buddy and Jack, sending neon light, dirt and gravel spewing into the air. It hit right at the edge of the ridge, causing the ground beneath Buddy to give way and sending him sliding down the front of the rock face.
“Without thinking I dove forward onto my stomach and thrust the barrel of my gun down at him. My arms dangled out over the rocks as he grabbed hold with both hands.
“Jesus Christ Cat, don’t you let go! Don’t you drop my ass!” he kept yelling. “And don’t you dare touch that trigger!”
“Fragments of rock kicked up around us as I tried to wrestle Buddy back over the edge. One of them caught me on the forehead, sending a trickle of blood down the bridge of my nose.
“Hey! Can I get some help here?!” I screamed over my shoulder and felt hands grab hold of my ankles. They drug me backwards with Buddy still clinging to my rifle as scattered fire continued to chip at the rocks around us."
My eyes grew wide. “None of those bullets hit you guys?”
My uncle shook his head. “No, they sure didn’t. It was like a scene from a movie or something, one of those things that you’d never believe unless you were there to see it.
“That’s not to say nobody was hit though. When Buddy and I were in the cover of the woods, I turned to see who’d pulled me out. It was Jack alright, though I barely recognized him.
"Shrapnel from the incoming shell that first sent Buddy over the edge had torn into the side of his face. Small pieces of twisted metal jutted out from his left cheek. Blood flowed from the wounds and dripped off his chin.
“Jack, you need a doctor!” I yelled. He ignored me and began firing rounds at the opposing hillside.
“For the moment I gave up on getting help and joined him. Beside us, Buddy and Benny did the same.
“Once the firing died away, I took a clean t-shirt from my pack and tore it into long strips. I doused all of them in water and wrapped them around Jack’s head.
“He gave token resistance to it, but didn't fight near as hard as I expected.
“The entire unit spent the night on the edge of that ridge, alternating in groups between keeping watch and trying to rest. Every hour or so a few random rounds would come in, just enough to keep us awake and thinking about an attack that never came.
“The next morning Rollins made his way down the line and told us the North Koreans had moved on. They'd left behind enough gunners to keep us agitated, but nothing close to a serious fighting force. He was mid-sentence explaining all this when he noticed the makeshift bandage Jack was wearing.
“What the hell happened to you?” he spat.
“I took some shrapnel,” Jack replied.
“Rollins ordered him to remove the dressing and grimaced when he saw Jack’s face. It was already swollen twice it’s normal size and was deep purple and blue. Flies were buzzing around him and it needed to be cleaned immediately.
“Damn, damn, damn,” Rollins muttered aloud.
“Sir, I can go on,” Jack said.
“I know you can, but I can’t let you. We're going to need you Corporal, stay here and have the medics tend to that wound. Take advantage, get some rest and get healed up. You can catch back up with us when we start moving north."
“Old Jack didn’t take well to being left behind, but Rollins insisted. He informed the rest of us we were moving out immediately and moved on down the line to see to the rest of the men.
“I watched Rollins walk away and gave an awkward shrug. “Thanks for pulling my ass out of there last night.”
“Don’t do that,” Jack snapped. “This isn’t good-bye, I’ll be back by nightfall. I’m only staying now because he gave me a direct order.”
“I nodded and said, “Get that damn thing cleaned up anyway, huh? Girls back in Birch Grove won't think you’re so pretty with metal sticking out of your face.”
“Jack nodded back and assured me it wasn’t his face the girls back home were interested in.
“I left Jack on the ridge that morning, certain I would see him again that night. I had never known Jack to lie about anything and there was no need to think he’d start then.”
He fell silent and looked out over the water again.
“The next page in the album is a twisted piece of metal about a half inch long. It isn’t one that they pulled out that morning, but rather one that worked its way to the surface many years later and had to be removed. Just the same though, it is an actual piece of that shell.”
My eyes grew wide with astonishment. “You mean he walked around with metal in his face for years?”
My uncle turned sad eyes towards me and said, “Son, we could go over to that grave right now and I promise you we'd still find pieces of that shell in your uncle.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The fishing boat we’d watched all afternoon came closer, the sound of their trolling motor making a gentle hum. As they approached the man in front flipped it off and the boat coasted through the water towards us.
“Any luck?” my uncle called.
The man in back reached into a reservoir and produced a nice stringer of fish, smiling wide. “Enough crappie to feed us for a week.”
“Crappie, huh?” my uncle said. “That’s some damn good eating right there.”
“Yeah it is,” said the man in front. He too smiled when he talked and wore a black and red plaid flannel unbuttoned over a stained white tank top. A floppy fisherman’s cap was tugged down onto his head and small lures were hooked to the side of it.
“You from around here?” the man in back asked. He had a bald head that was dark brown from the sun and speckled with liver spots. He had a thick white moustache and wore a plain t-shirt under bib overalls.
“This is my niece’s place,” my uncle replied, casting a thumb up towards the house. They both paused like they
were waiting for him to continue, but that was all he said.
A few awkward moments passed before the man in front said, “Well, we got another couple of hours of daylight, better get to it.”
“Alright then,” my uncle said, “good luck.”
He raised his hand and waved at them and I did the same. The men waved back and turned their motor back on, within minutes well down the shoreline.
My uncle paused a moment to collect his thoughts and said, “Just like Rollins said, we moved out right then. Jack wore the sourest expression I had ever seen while he watched us go, but he stayed behind as ordered. Buddy and I fell in step beside each other and as we made our way around the ravine I could feel Jack’s eyes watching us.
“We spent the rest of that day the same way we spent the one before. Once we were around the valley, we were right back into forest. Moving was slow and tough and three different times we were rotated out to sentry positions.
“After only a day of marching, our numbers were already a bit concerning. Word had worked down the line that many of the South Koreans froze under fire. They just stood there and watched as North gunners mowed them down. A fair numbers of those who were smart enough to move threw down their weapons and ran all the way back to Pusan.
“What started as over six hundred men the day before was already down to four-fifty.
“We heard a couple random shots fired throughout the afternoon, but for the most part the day was calm. Sentries on our east flank managed to flush out a pair of gunners before the main detachment was within range, but otherwise there was no sign of the enemy.”
My uncle paused for a second and coughed a deep throaty cough. He raised his hand to me as if to say excuse me and rose to his feet. The coughing continued for several seconds as he turned his back to me, culminating with a hack and a spit.
I stared straight out over the water, careful not to let him think I was watching. I heard him take several deep breaths and after a moment he retook his place beside me.
“Darkness crept towards us and with it came the realization that we hadn’t slept in over two days. As we pressed on my eyes grew hazy from the sweat and grime that filled them.
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