Sgt. Reckless: America's War Horse

by Robin Hutton

  Reckless represented a military secret to be kept not just from the enemy, but from many of her new American comrades. “At first we had to hide her,” Berry said, “because there wasn’t all that much authority with everybody knowing what was going on . . .

  “In our unit people were really interested in this horse, but it was not known among other units . . . [Pedersen] had gotten clearance from up above, but he said to just keep everything mute until we got things all worked out.”4

  The drive back had given Lt. Pedersen time to figure out who would be Reckless’s companion. He zeroed in on Private First Class Monroe Coleman, reasoning that being raised on a ranch in Utah and having a love of horses made Coleman the perfect choice. Pedersen also called on Technical Sergeant Joe Latham to help Reckless become acclimated to camp.

  Pedersen ordered that no one was to ride Reckless, issued instructions for building her a bunker and getting her feed, and assigned Latham (who had trained horses) and Private Coleman to look after her. Latham was to be her drill instructor. Pedersen told him to put the horse through boot camp.

  Latham didn’t miss a beat: “Shouldn’t it be hoof camp, lieutenant?”5

  By popular acclamation, the men christened her Reckless, and subsequently led her to the mess tent for her first meal as a Marine: a loaf of bread and uncooked oatmeal.

  She liked it just fine.

  However, not everybody was excited to see a horse in camp. “The last thing I wanted to do was take care of a horse when I was trying to stay alive,”6 remembered Julian Kitral, who was a corporal. But most of the Marines saw Reckless as a great mascot, if nothing else.

  The next day was spent familiarizing the newest Marine recruit with camp life and providing for her needs. Batherson remembered that “they took up a collection” for her feed and other needs, “I threw in about $5 or $10.”7 Pedersen also approached the camp’s shoe company—the guys who did leatherwork and repaired the men’s boots—to fashion a packsaddle matching specifications the lieutenant drew up.

  The men built Reckless’s bunker and fenced in a small pasture for her. The horse’s new home was built to standard bunker specifications, with a minimum of four feet of sandbags stacked atop a crossbeam-supported roof. The division engineers believed the design provided the best protection from Chinese shells.

  As Latham headed south to forage for feed, Coleman stayed in camp to work Reckless over with an old shoe brush, the closest thing he had to a curry comb or dandy brush. When he finished, Coleman stepped back to admire her glistening coat, as shiny as a spit-and-polished boot.

  Reckless took to her new life with gusto: she loved the Marines’ attention, and she relished something most servicemen never miss a chance to mock—the chow. Not only was there a lot of it, but her diet was surprisingly varied—from her first apple to her first carrot to her first Hershey bar to the ground cover in her new enclosure, where, to the delight of the Marines, she pranced like a show horse until two dogs ventured innocently into the pasture. Reckless pinned her ears back and charged, chasing them away. Navy Corpsman George “Doc” Mitchell thought Reckless acted “like she was scared as a kid by a dog. Has a psychosis probably.”8 From then on, standing orders barred all canines from her vicinity—for their own sakes.

  Latham returned with an overloaded trailer of barley, sorghum, and rice straw, all paid for by Platoon donations. “I’d buy it from local Korean farmers,” Latham recalled. “The men would pitch in money when they could.”9

  Latham put down a nice straw bed for her and gave the new horse soldier a green Marine blanket to warm her at night. Reckless had never known so many wonderful comforts. Latham even volunteered that on freezing winter nights, “I’ll take her into my tent and let her sleep by my stove.”10

  Korean winters were notoriously frigid between December and February, with night temperatures often plummeting below zero degrees Fahrenheit. “The Marines who made the first winter in the ‘Frozen Chosin’ without any cold weather training,” Sergeant Harold Wadley recalled, “are the ones that really suffered.” The Marine Corps had attempted to address the issue a year earlier. In 1951, after the war’s bitter first winter, Pickel Meadows in the Sierra Nevada Mountains south of Lake Tahoe was established to prepare Marines for the cold Korean weather. While training in the rugged area—elevations ranged up to eleven thousand feet—helped immeasurably, conditions were considerably windier and colder on the Korean peninsula.

  Wadley described it best: “The clear, starry winter nights impressed me. Seemed like at twenty below, I could hear the stars rattle like ice cubes. When it was quiet at night, sound carried a long ways, making the frozen crunch of a step seem like they were right next to you. The bolt of all weapons had to be worked regularly to be sure they would function when fired. . . . Once my field jacket got frozen into the mud while laying in ambush for three hours and (they) had to yank me free. A bit scary at the time.”11 The Marines knew what Korean cold was like—and were keen to protect Reckless from its rigors.

  Reckless settled into her surroundings, but not without a few early mishaps. “She got cut up quite a bit from the barbed wire because she was not accustomed to it,” Berry recalled. “The barbed wire was strung around to hold her in. We made a little corral for her and she would run into it when we first got her and she got all cut up. She didn’t know what it was. So Doc Mitchell would go ahead and fix the cuts . . . but she was pretty scared of everybody at first.”12

  That fear didn’t last very long as Reckless soon relished her new life, exploring every inch of her pasture and, after boredom set in, venturing out on her own, as she was given free rein of the camp like every other Marine.

  Latham turns Reckless out to feed. On cold nights she slept in his tent. Nancy Latham Parkin

  Naturally, her favorite stop was the galley tent. One morning, new recruit PFC Billy Jones offered to share his scrambled eggs with Reckless. She shocked the young Marine by not only scarfing down all the eggs, but then washing them down with coffee. “Wait’ll Reckless finds out you’ve been feedin’ her powdered eggs,” Cordova warned him. “She’ll chase you over the hill like she did those dogs.”13

  Pedersen picked up the packsaddle from the shoe company. “It wasn’t worth a damn,” Berry said. “It was sliding around and Pete looked at it and said, ‘This is Mickey Mouse . . . this ain’t gonna work.’ And so he contacted his wife. He drew up plans with what he wanted and sent it to her right away to have it made and sent to him. That’s where they came up with the bag they used.”14

  Increasingly, Reckless stayed with her newfound friends—they were becoming her herd. Sixty years later, a leading veterinary horse behavioral expert described these bonds as only natural. “Reckless’s relationship with the troops is understandable when you realize that horses are a herd animal. They are meant to live in groups,” explained Dr. Robert M. Miller, the Thousand Oaks, California, veterinarian, author, and creator of the innovative foal training technique called imprint training. “Most domestic animals, the cat being the exception, in the wild live in groups—all the time, always. Not occasionally, not when they’re breeding, or not when they have youngsters—but all the time. Sheep, goats, cattle, and people, of course; we are a group creature.”

  Miller says creatures normally living in groups but separated by circumstance from their own kind “will quickly accept what’s called a surrogate—it’s called surrogate bonding. If you go to the racetrack, many times you’ll see a goat in with a horse, or a pony, or a burro, or even a chicken in a cage. They need some living creature, otherwise they feel desperately alone. And they’re not meant to be alone.”

  So, Miller reasoned, when Reckless joined an otherwise horseless Marine Corps platoon, “there are all these guys who give her little treats and pet her and stroke her and become very fond of her. And she’s perfectly happy with that. And it means a lot to her.”15

  That’s just what happened with Reckless. She’d venture into her friends’ tents on cold or ra
iny nights or when she didn’t want to sleep alone. The men would always make room for her, usually by the warm stove.

  “Hoof Camp” Begins

  When it was time to start “hoof camp,” Lieutenant Colonel Gentleman had the battalion surgeon examine Reckless, who certified her as “physically fit and capable of performing the duties of a Marine of her age and rank.”16

  Latham began his “hoof camp,” working with her daily. He taught her to come when he whistled17 and how to get in and out of her trailer. Since the trailer was just 36 inches by 72 inches, she had to learn some adjustments. “We had a little deck where she walked up and she was up on the thing,” Berry explained, “and she walked into the trailer. She resisted trailers and all that at first. Latham worked with her a whole lot with that.”18

  Finally, Latham’s work paid off. “She’d jump in the trailer and go in catty-cornered, and I’d tie her down,”19 Latham explained. He took her on long walks through the hills, showing her how to surmount barbed wire, which also made her extra cautious around the security fencing. When she was nervous, a shrill whistling sound came from Reckless’s nostrils—as if she were “smelling out the danger.”20 When she was sizing up new challenges, she would lower her head, as if in careful reflection and then, if she felt comfortable, move ahead. Reckless would go anywhere with anyone she trusted.

  Latham works with Reckless, getting in and out of her trailer. National Archives

  Doc Mitchell lends a hand in helping Reckless manage the trailer. USMC History Division, Quantico, VA

  Latham puts Reckless through “hoof camp.” Here she learns to step over wire. Leatherneck Magazine

  Latham taught Reckless to “hit the deck” when under enemy fire. Nancy Latham Parkin

  Once Latham and his charge had established a close bond and mutual trust, the training got more involved, especially around the recoilless rifle. “I had to get her to calm down,” Latham recalled. “I had to train her not to go behind the guns. It will knock you down, front and back.”21

  He taught Reckless to lie down, even kneel, in case there was no cover and she needed to crawl into a shallow bunker for protection from incoming fire. “I trained her to get down—hit the deck,” said Latham. “I’d just tap her on the front of the leg and she’d get down. It took a lot of training.”22

  Latham also trained Reckless to head for the bunker when shells hit near camp. “Reckless was no dummy,” Latham said. “She had her own bunker . . . when incoming started, we’d scramble into ours and she’d head for hers, although there were a few times when she thought ours was more convenient. Nobody complained.”23

  “All I had to yell,” Latham added later, “was ‘Incoming! Incoming!’ and she’d go.”24

  Berry backed up Latham’s descriptions of Reckless as a remarkable, intelligent, and resourceful foot soldier. “She actually got to the point that he [Latham] could use arm and hand signals and get her to kneel down,” he recalled, “and her little ears, you’d see them move when mortar was fired. And she would duck down on the deck and then, after the mortar went off, she would head for that bunker. It was pretty incredible to watch.”25

  Sgt. Ralph Sherman also had an interesting take on the incoming fire. “Whenever we were with the horse, that automatically triggered action from the North Koreans. And it was always the opportunity for them to kill the horse, that’s the impression that I got. And luckily that didn’t happen. I just think they watched us as much as we watched them, the North Koreans and the Chinese, and I think when they saw the horse that just prompted them to want to try to kill the horse, destroy the horse, whatever, and so it did bring in some incoming on occasions when it wasn’t expected. I think it was because if they killed the horse, they would have food, because they ate horsemeat over there.”26

  Somewhat of a prankster, Latham taught Reckless a trick to play on Doc Mitchell and the platoon. He’d flick her right front leg with a switch, and she’d suddenly limp as if in pain. Mitchell almost sent her to the hospital ship USS Repose for an x-ray before the ruse was exposed.

  According to Latham, Reckless didn’t like people to tease her. She could be aggressive when provoked and almost pushed one Marine into a barbed wire fence.27 She developed, however, a few playful pranks of her own—mostly at Latham’s expense. Sometimes she’d pretend to eat, knowing Latham was sneaking up on her. When he got close, Reckless would teasingly run away. Prancing around the gunnery sergeant, the horse then squared off and charged him, ears back and teeth bared in a show of deadly menace. But at the last second, she’d stop, rear, then run off in the other direction. Once she grew bored with these antics, Reckless would nonchalantly amble up and nuzzle Latham for a piece of candy—something he always had handy.

  Latham takes a ride on his favorite recruit. Nancy Latham Parkin

  The day came when Latham proudly announced to Pedersen, “Tell her what you want and let her look the situation over an’ she’ll do it, if she’s with someone she trusts.”28 Never in his fourteen years in the Corps had Latham worked so hard with, or been so proud of, any recruit.

  Word of Reckless Spreads along the Line

  Word of the four-legged newcomer spread fast among different units along the line. While some were jealous they didn’t have her, others tried to undermine Reckless before she could prove herself in action.

  There was concern among aides to Major General Edwin Pollock, commander of the Marine 1st Division, that Reckless might react badly to the ferocious back blast from the recoilless rifle. The rifle released such violent force that even seasoned Marines often jumped, and horses generally don’t like loud noises and commotion. Pollock’s aides feared Reckless would bolt after the first shell was fired. Latham tried to reassure them that Reckless was different from other horses, but one officer wasn’t buying it, chiding the gunnery sergeant, “Just wait’ll she’s on the line someday and little China-boy starts dropping incoming. Your horse will be outgoing.”29 That kind of talk was brushed aside within her own platoon, but Latham made sure that Reckless was as familiar with the recoilless rifle as any horse could be, short of actual combat.

  Major General Pollock decided to see Reckless for himself. He wanted to meet the celebrity recruit everyone was talking about. The day of Pollock’s visit, the platoon made sure Reckless was ready; Coleman had given her a good brushing and she shined like a freshly minted penny.

  General Pollock was an experienced horseman, and in a thorough inspection he found that—except for Reckless’s need of new shoes—the level of the new recruit’s fitness for battle was impressive. Pollock offered to help find a blacksmith, and Pedersen took him up on the offer.

  The next day, Reckless lumbered onto the trailer, and Latham drove her to the blacksmith in a neighboring village. As Latham unloaded Reckless from her trailer, the blacksmith spoke to her in Korean. While Reckless seemed to understand his words, she did not like his manner; the stranger was rough and curt as he led her and Latham into his hut.

  He tied Reckless to the center pole and tried to examine her hooves, but she wanted no part of this. When the man yanked her head, Latham yelled at him to take it easy. But when the blacksmith brought out a chain to tie her down, that was enough. Reckless reared and kicked—and finally chased the man out of his own hut. As Latham rushed to calm her, the center pole gave way, knocking him to the ground, and Reckless broke free and rushed outside. The gunnery sergeant crawled out from under the collapsed hut to find the blacksmith tending to his bruises. When Reckless saw Latham, she walked over to him, ready to leave. He loaded her in the trailer and drove away.

  Back at camp, Reckless’s friends roared over how she kicked the man out of his own hut. They loved her independent spirit, praying she would display the same determination under fire. Since the shoe shopping expedition had failed, Latham trimmed Reckless’s hooves himself, then tightened her existing shoes as best he could. This would have to do until he could take her back to the racetrack in Seoul, where someone she knew and trusted
could handle the job.

  Serious Work Begins

  When the packsaddle arrived from Kay Pederson, the serious training finally began. A veterinarian and old friend, Dr. A. P. Immenschuh, designed packsaddles and had donated one, which Kay sent via the Navy because the post office wouldn’t handle the forty-pound package to Korea.30 The first time Sergeant Harold Wadley saw Reckless was with the packsaddle. “I thought, ‘For crying out loud, where did those guys find that horse?’” the sergeant recalled. “The first thing they were trying to do was adjust the packsaddle and harness on her. And of course, me being a ranch kid, and even in the pictures, it’s the most fouled-up adjustment of pack rigging you could find. It’s a sawbuck they had on her, and everything was super loose on her and there was no way the guys didn’t have a leather punch to adjust the buckles through the britch and strap on her. My first impression was you could stick a bale of hay between her hindquarters and the britch. But they were intent. I just commented to the Marine that, ‘If that mare gets in a hurry, all that’s going to fall off from her.’”31

  Reckless with 75 mm recoilless rifle and pack saddle.

  Reckless on hill with gun crew. USMC History Division, Quantico, VA

  Reckless being loaded with a round of recoilless rifle ammunition. Each round weighed twenty-four pounds. Leatherneck Magazine

  Marines lace the canisters of ammunition onto Reckless’s pack. Command Museum, Marine Corps Recruit Depot, San Diego

  Latham leads Reckless out in the field with her squad. Notice the rounds of ammunition out of the canisters and sticking directly out of her pack. Nancy Latham Parkin

  After much experimentation, the platoon found Reckless could safely and easily carry six rounds of recoilless rifle ammunition in canisters without much trouble. Yet in the heat of battle, they found she could tote eight to ten rounds, if necessary.