On a December night, in a cold place far away, there was another
Christmas miracle. It was during the Korean War, 71 years ago.
The Marines who had taken the Chosin Reservoir were now pretty sure
that they would be home by Christmas. They had defeated the North Korean Army and had been ordered to hold their ground
until new orders could come from Washington, D.C.
Unfortunately, while we sat during the next two weeks, Chinese forces, who had entered the war, proceeded to completely surround the Marines. Their strong attacks were frequent, beginning at about 4:30 AM each morning.
The situation was pretty bad. While waiting for orders, our supply line was cut off, our Corpsmen (Marine medics) were running out of blood and morphine and we were running out of ammo. The Air Force kept us going with parachute drops. When the orders finally came, they told us to "leave Korea". Not so easy - because we were surrounded. "Leaving" meant having to fight our way out.
We began a long 80 mile trek, in below-zero temperatures, to come out of the mountains, heading for our ships at sea. All along the way, there were Chinese roadblocks and many battles still to be fought.
We were coming out determined to leave nothing and nobody behind. We picked up all of our wounded comrades and those who had been killed. With our vehicles in the center of the road, we walked alongside in single file columns on both sides of the road. The incredible cold and the icy, slippery road made each step a challenge. We kept moving, until we met the next Chinese roadblock. The vehicles would then stop. We would bunch up and engage with the enemy until we could break through.
The vehicles would then begin to move again. We reformed our columns and continued down the mountain. This went on for each of the Chinese roadblocks we encountered (I recall five). The march out was slow and demanding. Our diet of cookies and snow did little to offset the exhaustion we all felt.
Frostbite became a serious problem. We had to keep stomping our feet while we walked. If we didn't the extreme cold would quickly freeze the brine (perspiration) in our boots - a risk we faced every time we had to stop to fight off an attack.
It snowed most of the time with a sky that was overcast. We kept praying for it to clear up, so that we could get some help from our aircraft. All along the way we put our wounded on the hoods of vehicles to keep them warm and our dead comrades onto trucks.
Unfortunately, while we sat during the next two weeks, Chinese forces, who had entered the war, proceeded to completely surround the Marines. Their strong attacks were frequent, beginning at about 4:30 AM each morning.
The situation was pretty bad. While waiting for orders, our supply line was cut off, our Corpsmen (Marine medics) were running out of blood and morphine and we were running out of ammo. The Air Force kept us going with parachute drops. When the orders finally came, they told us to "leave Korea". Not so easy - because we were surrounded. "Leaving" meant having to fight our way out.
We began a long 80 mile trek, in below-zero temperatures, to come out of the mountains, heading for our ships at sea. All along the way, there were Chinese roadblocks and many battles still to be fought.
We were coming out determined to leave nothing and nobody behind. We picked up all of our wounded comrades and those who had been killed. With our vehicles in the center of the road, we walked alongside in single file columns on both sides of the road. The incredible cold and the icy, slippery road made each step a challenge. We kept moving, until we met the next Chinese roadblock. The vehicles would then stop. We would bunch up and engage with the enemy until we could break through.
The vehicles would then begin to move again. We reformed our columns and continued down the mountain. This went on for each of the Chinese roadblocks we encountered (I recall five). The march out was slow and demanding. Our diet of cookies and snow did little to offset the exhaustion we all felt.
It snowed most of the time with a sky that was overcast. We kept praying for it to clear up, so that we could get some help from our aircraft. All along the way we put our wounded on the hoods of vehicles to keep them warm and our dead comrades onto trucks.
On one night, the sky finally began to clear. We were so happy that the snow stopped and the stars became visible again. This was the needed help that we were praying for. Maybe we would really survive this after all, and maybe even make it home for Christmas.
We contacted our Marine Corsair planes and they helped us destroy the roadblocks ahead of us as we fought the rest of the way down that icy mountain road.
On that wondrous night and clear sky, there was one star that was shining so much more brightly than all the others. Many of us who saw that star considered it a miracle as it was that night in Bethlehem, long ago. We took it as a sign that we would survive our difficult situation.
But, there were still so many miles to go until we reached the sea. We would have to board ships that would sail us across the Pacific toward home. It would take a lot of time for all of that. It was becoming clear to us that we would not make it home by Christmas. We plodded on.
On that wondrous night and clear sky, there was one star that was shining so much more brightly than all the others. Many of us who saw that star considered it a miracle as it was that night in Bethlehem, long ago. We took it as a sign that we would survive our difficult situation.
But, there were still so many miles to go until we reached the sea. We would have to board ships that would sail us across the Pacific toward home. It would take a lot of time for all of that. It was becoming clear to us that we would not make it home by Christmas. We plodded on.
On December 5, about halfway out of the mountains,
the war was over for me. When I regained consciousness, I found myself draped over the hood of a Jeep. I knew that meant I had been wounded and not killed. We put our dead on trucks. I was dropped off at an aid station unaware of what had happened to me.
The corpsmen examined me, put a tag on me and moved me out to be air evacuated, along with many others in an old DC-3 to a Japanese hospital in Itazuki. Time seemed to stand still from then on as I began a flight that would take me halfway around the world. There were hospital stays in Tokyo, Wake Island, Hawaii, Oakland, San Antonio and then my last stop - the Naval Hospital, in my home town of Philadelphia.
There was a wonderful surprise in store for me. It was about 10 PM as I was taken into the hospital and settled in. I was greeted by many shouts of, "Merry Christmas!". That's when I finally realized that it was Christmas Eve! December 24, 1950. Somehow, I had made it home for Christmas, after all - a true miracle. I was alive, I would heal and I was home. It was the best Christmas ever!
Footnote:
The corpsmen examined me, put a tag on me and moved me out to be air evacuated, along with many others in an old DC-3 to a Japanese hospital in Itazuki. Time seemed to stand still from then on as I began a flight that would take me halfway around the world. There were hospital stays in Tokyo, Wake Island, Hawaii, Oakland, San Antonio and then my last stop - the Naval Hospital, in my home town of Philadelphia.
There was a wonderful surprise in store for me. It was about 10 PM as I was taken into the hospital and settled in. I was greeted by many shouts of, "Merry Christmas!". That's when I finally realized that it was Christmas Eve! December 24, 1950. Somehow, I had made it home for Christmas, after all - a true miracle. I was alive, I would heal and I was home. It was the best Christmas ever!
Footnote:
Years later, those of us who saw the bright star that night in Korea formed an organization, "The Chosin Few", for those who had survived the Chosin Reservoir battle. We made the star our symbol.
