Delayed by blown bridges and two bombing raids, Mu arrived late to the conference. To his surprise he found that almost the entire NKPA high command was present. Perhaps equally surprising, they had waited for him before beginning the formal meeting. A young staff officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Lee Hak Ku began the briefing:
“Up to today, we have made satisfactory progress according to the timetable laid out in planning document 2-5. I want to remind everyone that while we did account for the possibility of American intervention in contingency plan B-1.2, we rated the likelihood of imperialist ground involvement as less then 33 percent. We correctly anticipated naval blockade and correctly dismissed its short term impact. We underestimated the impact of enemy air power. Consequently, our logistical support for the front line troops is stretched very thin. We must recognize that each mile we advance lengthens our supply line and correspondingly reduces the logistical problems for the enemy. Furthermore, we have driven the imperialists and their puppets into a shrinking perimeter. It can be more easily defended than the linear position across the entire peninsula that they formerly held.”12
The colonel paused to take a deep drag on his British cigarette. General Mu studied the colonel carefully. He had heard that Ku was a “comer,” a brilliant, ambitious officer with good political connections. Ku’s cogent summary and the fact that he had access to British cigarettes—something available to only the most favored of the party élite—confirmed the rumors. This man might be a very useful ally, Mu reflected.
Ku proceeded to describe the intelligence service’s estimate of the enemy order of battle. For the next week the People’s Army faced a badly depleted 24th Infantry Division, a bruised 1st Cavalry, and a fresh unit tentatively identified as the 25th Infantry Division. The South Korean forces had not yet recovered sufficiently to weigh heavily on the scales of battle. But the offensive had not been without cost. The People’s Air Force was out of the equation. The crack NKPA 3rd Division had suffered heavy losses. The 4th and 6th Divisions had suffered moderately. Most significantly, the fearless tank thrusts by the 105th Tank Division had been expensive. Enemy action and mechanical breakdown had subtracted nearly 60 percent of the unit’s tanks.
After a dramatic pause, Ku came to his conclusion:
“In sum, the calculus of battle points in our favor, but time is not on our side. We have enough strength for one more big push. The question is where?”13
A furious debate ensued. Army commander General Chai Ung Jun observed that, to date, the tank-led frontal assaults had triumphed, but at ever-increasing cost. Meanwhile, the infantry had exhibited a surpassing ability to locate the American weaknesses and flow past or through lightly defended sectors. Everyone understood that the NKPA’s infiltration tactics worked best in broken terrain. This fact argued in favor of a wide envelopment south to the coast and then east toward Pusan. But such an operation would take time.
Mu spoke for the first time. He argued for one more direct assault, a concentration of force to administer the coup de grace along the highway leading to Pusan. As Mu expected, Colonel Ku emphatically supported his notion. But the senior leadership had grown up in cut and thrust army politics where those who backed a plan that failed seldom received a second chance. They looked to General Jun for guidance before committing themselves, only to realize that Jun himself seemed unable to decide. It was apparent that Jun was positioning himself to land on his feet regardless of which plan was adopted.
The generals were evenly divided. Perhaps the older veterans of the long fight in China showed a preference for the tried and true indirect approach while most of the younger hawks favored a direct assault. At this decisive moment General Mu spoke again. Sound strategy, patriotism, ambition, all pointed in one direction: “Give me my division, the 6th Division, and the tanks and I guarantee we will drive the Yankees into the sea.” A collective gasp rose from the table. Several of the older generals shook their heads in disapproval. Another lengthy debate ensued but by the narrowest margin Mu’s plan prevailed. The final offensive would being in the pre-dawn hours of July 25.
“Stand or Die!”
During the two days before the attack, General Mu was everywhere; inspecting the dug-in, well-camouflaged field artillery, rehearsing assault tactics with the company commanders, instilling a determination to conquer or die to the all-important infiltration teams. A quick visit to the 6th Division, which was aligned shoulder to shoulder with his own division, convinced him that he did not have to spend much time there. Officers and men alike clearly knew their business. The unit traced its origins back to 1942 when the Chinese communists had formed a Korean Volunteer Army from Korean deserters from the Japanese Kwantung Army. The knowledge that there was literally no alternative but victory or death had forged the division into a veteran group of ruthless killers. He read with approval division commander Pang Ho San’s rousing proclamation:
“Comrades, the enemy is demoralized. The task given us is the liberation of Taegu and the annihilation of the remnants of the enemy. The liberation of Taegu means the final battle to cut the windpipe of the enemy.”14
Mu was equally pleased with the 105th Tank Division. The battlefield introduction of the 3.5-inch bazooka had forced the tankers to change their tactics. The enemy no longer ran simply when the tanks appeared. Unsupported tank thrusts had become too risky. Mu therefore ordered the tankers to assemble behind the lines for a refresher course in tank–infantry cooperation conducted by Major Orlov and his Russian advisers. The tankers closely attended to the Soviet lecture, particularly after the first class when a sergeant had tried to argue with Orlov. Mu had ordered the sergeant to stand at attention and nodded to his bodyguard. The bodyguard drew his pistol and shot the sergeant dead. Mu then turned to Orlov and said: “Please continue.”15
The night before the attack General Mu returned to his own headquarters to summon his regimental and battalion commanders to a final briefing. He looked around and only with effort hid his surprise. Near reckless front line leadership had yielded victories but at high cost. Gone were many of the veterans of the China War. Still, Mu reflected, when only we few remain we are still enough. Confidence restored, Mu explained in detail what he wanted the 4th Division to do.
Across the lines, Eighth Army Commander General Walker and his staff examined the map. His forces had retired into a defensive perimeter around Pusan. One front faced north and one west with the hinge in the middle at Taegu. South Korean forces manned the northern front from the Sea of Japan inland toward Taegu. They had rallied from the opening shocks and now seemed able to hold their own against the NKPA infantry. They would have to carry on alone because Walker had no US forces available to support them. The western front was altogether different. In fact it could hardly be called a front since there was no continuous defensive line running south from Taegu through Masan to the sea. ROK militarized police units had established strongpoints in the southern third of Korea. No one expected them to provide effective resistance when the North Koreans advanced. At least they could serve as an outpost line to warn if the communists were attempting a deep envelopment via Masan.
The key sector was clearly around Taegu. Besides being a critical rail and road center, the city was the hinge liking the northern and western fronts. Walker resolved to use everything he had to hold Taegu. He ordered the shattered remnants of the 24th Infantry Division back into line to defend the perimeter south of Taegu. The 1st Cavalry was barely in better shape. It also deployed south of Taegu with its strongest unit, the 7th Cavalry Regiment, tied in to the 25th Infantry Division just south of Taegu. The 25th Division, commanded by General William B. Kean, defended Taegu itself.
The division’s only full-strength regiment was the all black 24th Infantry Regiment. Walker and Kean shared the widespread view that “Negroes won’t fight.”16 Accordingly, they placed the 24th Regiment in the least threatened sector east of Taegu. The battered 27th Infantry Regiment occupied the high ground south of Taegu. Sandwiched be
tween them was the 19th Infantry Regiment which took position astride the Seoul-Taegu highway.
To prepare his men for pending battle General Walker issued his orders:
“We are fighting a battle against time. There will be no more retreating, withdrawal, or readjustment of the lines or any other term you chose. There is no line behind us to which we can retreat. There will be no Dunkirk, there will be no Bataan, a retreat to Pusan would be one of the greatest butcheries in history. We must fight until the end. Capture by these people is worse than death itself. I want everyone to understand that we are going to hold this line. We are going to win.”17
Five NKPA divisions deployed fanwise along a 40-mile arc west and north of Taegu. The offensive began just after midnight on July 25. Select infiltration teams made masterful use of the terrain to slip between American outposts and around the flanks of the main line of resistance. They had two objectives: to establish ambush sites deep in the rear along the roads and trails by which reinforcements and ammunition would move to the American front; and to attack and take out the American field artillery. The second objective was the more important. When given time to prepare, the American artillery showed a superb ability to shift fire rapidly and crush the NKPA assault infantry. General Mu planned for his infiltration teams to neutralize this US advantage.
A brief NKPA artillery bombardment heralded the beginning of the main offensive at 0400. Mu’s Soviet advisers wanted the artillery to target the enemy guns in a classic counter-battery bombardment. Mu ignored them. Even when his divisional artillery was at full strength, the American field guns outranged his 76mm field guns and 122mm howitzers. Furthermore, the artillery had had trouble keeping pace with the rapid advance. American planes had taken a heavy toll. Accordingly, Mu ordered his guns to open fire with high explosive in hopes of cutting American communication wires and then to smother the front line positions with smoke shells.
In theory, the steep hills stretching around Taegu should have provided defensive advantages. If sufficient men had been available, the hills and ridges could have provided a succession of defensive positions to blunt the NKPA advance. Instead, the defenders were stretched thin. Lack of time had also hampered the defenders. Too many units occupied positions where nearby hilltops and undulations in the ground blocked lines of sight. Gullies and ravines penetrated almost every battalion-size defensive sector.
Still, the men of the 1st Cavalry, the “Wolfhounds” of the 27th Infantry, the all-black 24th Infantry, and even the remnants of the ROK Capital Division put up a good fight, slowing and even repelling numerous charges. But the NKPA infantry relentlessly maintained the attack. The trouble for the defenders came at critical moments when they called for their tactical trump card: the field artillery. In some sectors the artillery responded with a gratifying barrage that pinned the communist infantry to the ground. Too often requests for support brought a puzzling crackle of static. In some cases, the initial NKPA bombardment had cut communication wire. More often, infiltration teams cut the wires themselves. At battery headquarters signal men also discovered that their antiquated switchboards failed under the pressure of high demand. However, the major reason that the artillery support slowly petered out was that too many gun crews were involved in desperate hand-to-hand fighting against NKPA infiltrators who seemed to rise from the very ground to attack the flanks and rear of the battery positions.
The NKPA pinning attacks directed at the units defending Taegu’s flanks continued through the morning. They accomplished their purpose by both tying down front line defenders and forcing local reserves to counter-attack to maintain the position. Meanwhile, the decisive breakthrough came along the poplar-lined Taegu–Sangju road seven miles north of Taegu. This road ran along a narrow valley dominated on the west by the Yuhak-san mountain mass that rose to a height of 2,700 feet. On the eastern side the Ka-san towered 2,900 feet above the valley. From the heights the road seemed to stretch on a nearly straight north–south axis. The men of the 19th Infantry who defended this sector called it the “Bowling Alley.” Their position blocked the road and extended up both sides into the mountains. About one mile in front of the American line was the village of Sinjumak. Here the road curved behind a series of hills that blocked direct fire from the American line. This was the staging area for the 105th Tank Division.
The defenders belonged to an outfit rich in unit pride. As one of the handful of regular US Army units in the Civil War, the 19th had conducted a famous fight that earned it the sobriquet “The Rock of Chickamauga.” The soldiers in Korea proudly called themselves “Chicks.” The Chicks had had two days to prepare their positions in and around the Bowling Alley. Accustomed to Japan’s soft garrison life, they found that the effort to scramble around rugged terrain while exposed to blazing heat and jungle-like humidity was enervating. Wild rumors about North Korean power and brutality also took a toll.
The initial NKPA bombardment unnerved the Chicks. They were new to combat and more than a few men were simply terrified. Even before the bombardment ended, the defenders saw a triple wave of enemy infantry advancing toward their trenches. The advance appeared hesitant and disjointed. American automatic weapons mowed down the NKPA soldiers in the first wave. A pair of M-16 half-tracks, each mounting four .50-caliber machine guns, added their terrific fire to riddle the second wave. The third wave refused to advance and went to ground. A near silence fell on the field. The Chicks looked at one another with amazement. It had been much easier than they expected.
In fact, this initial assault had been a sacrificial forlorn hope. Unlike the traditional forlorn hope composed of brave volunteers, this forlorn hope comprised 1,000 new replacements—South Koreans conscripted at gunpoint in the streets of Seoul. Their task was to locate American strongpoints. In this they had succeeded.
A salvo of green and red flares rose above the NKPA position. Next came bugle calls and the dreaded sound of revving tank engines. Then came a series of shattering explosions as the NKPA regimental 120mm mortars began pounding the US strongpoints.
The T-34/85s rolled steadily toward the American line. Sheltered behind each tank came a combat squad armed with burp guns. In an astonishing display of accuracy, the 90th Field Artillery Battery used its 155mm weapons to knock out five tanks with HEAT shells. Then the battery itself fell to a frenzied assault conducted by a late-arriving infiltration team.
The Chicks’ recoilless rifles had little effect against the enemy armor. When the tanks came to within 30 yards of the Chicks’ trenches, brave men rose to fire their 3.5-inch bazookas. Their first shots knocked out numerous tanks. Now the training in tanks–infantry teamwork paid off for the attackers. The NKPA infantry spread out in a protective cordon around the tanks. The tanks then worked in pairs, one providing covering fire while the other made a short advance to neutralize the enemy firing positions.
It quickly became apparent to the GIs that the bazooka was a suicide weapon. A bazooka team might take out a T-34/85 but it always brought on a hail of burp gun fire that forced the team to take shelter or to die. Fewer and fewer teams showed a willingness to expose themselves to this deadly fire. One battalion commander showed that he fully understood the meaning of Walker’s “Stand or Die” order. Shouting to nearby soldiers that: “as long as I’m in command, this outfit will not withdraw another inch,” he seized a bazooka to stalk a T-34/85. He got the lead tank but an 85mm round from the tank’s twin cut him in two. Ignoring the pleas of their officers, riflemen began moving to the rear. Some paused to turn and fire at the nearby NKPA infantry but many threw down their weapons and simply fled. The second wave of tanks penetrated the trench line and continued south along the road. Behind them, the NKPA infantry used grenades to begin methodically rooting out the remaining defenders. How Walker’s “Stand or Die” order had affected the Chicks cannot be determined because most of those who did stand did indeed die.
Throughout the morning, ground fog and overcast conditions had limited US air support. Around 1000
, planes belonging to the Far Eastern Air Force intervened briefly on the battlefield. The cloud ceiling was under 500 feet. Nonetheless, two flights of F-80s volunteered to make an attack. They dropped through the clouds to appear over the battlefield like ghostly, shrieking birds of prey. They found an NKPA mechanized column clogging the highway leading to Taegu. The powerful General Electric J-33 jet engine delivered very fast airspeeds. Consequently, the NKPA infantry did not have time to scatter to safety before the Shooting Stars were on them. Their six .50-caliber nose guns poured out a concentrated stream of accurate fire. The results were lethal. Trucks exploded. The heavy bullets scythed down running infantry.
But the flyers knew that the battle hinged upon the tanks. The F-80 pilots had learned that the only effective weapon against enemy tanks was the 5-inch high-velocity aircraft rocket (HVAR). They had discovered that an approach toward the tank from a 4 o’clock position worked best. The optimal firing position was from a 30-degree angle at a range of about 1,500 feet. However, on this day the low cloud cover forced them to attack at a flat approach angle, which made aiming difficult.
It required enormous concentration to operate effectively in this environment and it cost one pilot his life. While lining up a target he flew too low and plowed into a hillside. The remaining three pilots carefully fired rocket salvos and took out five T-34/85s. However, fuel constraints limited the jets’ time over the battlefield to 20 minutes before they had to return to their Japanese bases.
Even as they departed the clouds seemed to sink lower and the field became obscured by blowing rain, fog, and smoke.
Cold War Hot: Alternate Decisions of the Cold War Page 7
