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Posted: 3/15/2023 7:28:35 PM EST
Time to add a Korean War photo thread, to go along with the World War One and World War Two threads.
WWI https://www.ar15.com/forums/general/World-War-One-photo-thread/5-2079675/ WWII https://www.ar15.com/forums/General/Great-photo-from-WWII-more-added-/5-1949617/?page=1 |
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Hold At All Costs Trailer - HD My grand daughters great grandfather ( her mother’s side) is the the guy in the yellow polo talking about the Chinese coming wave after wave. ETA: When I have some time maybe I could share what he shared with me. Unfortunately I don’t have photos. |
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My uncle was there, had nothing good to say about it. Nice thread OP
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Best thread today.
Had a friend, Don. RIP sir, he served in the war. Anyway, Don was a talented musician, and joined the army and got in the army band. Next thing, the war kicks off. He was stateside for a year, then gets sent to Japan. Did the band thing for a couple months there, then gets orders for Korea. Gets to Korea, and he was told he’ll be in a support company, playing his trombone. They load him on a truck heading North. Gets to his company and didn’t see the trombone again. 2 Purple Hearts. Had a good attitude about it, even though he lost his ability to play due to shrapnel in his arm and shoulder. |
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I legitimately feel bad that the Korean War is the one I know the absolute least about. Any good book/video recommendations to rectify this?
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Quoted: I legitimately feel bad that the Korean War is the one I know the absolute least about. Any good book/video recommendations to rectify this? View Quote Failed To Load Title |
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Dad Went to Korea as an MP with the 3rd Infantry Division. He transferred into the 45th Infantry Division as a rifleman to earn rotation points faster. The 45th ID was a NG Division. The Guardsmen were activated for 12 months. At the end of that period, they were allowed to go home, but the division stayed in Korea and was refilled with volunteers and replacements. The first Pic is Dad on the left and a G.I. prisoner on the right. The second Pic was taken on R&R in Tokyo before he returned to CONUS.
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Quoted: I legitimately feel bad that the Korean War is the one I know the absolute least about. Any good book/video recommendations to rectify this? View Quote This one is a good read https://www.amazon.com/Last-Stand-Fox-Company-Marines/dp/0802144519 |
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Can't mention Korea without thinking of this guy:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_H._Yancey Captain Yancey attempted to return to service as an executive officer during the Vietnam War, however, the Marine Corps denied Captain Yancey a return to service on account of his battle wounds leaving him nearly without teeth; to which he responded "Hell, I wasn't planning on biting the sonsofbitches to death." |
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Quoted: I legitimately feel bad that the Korean War is the one I know the absolute least about. Any good book/video recommendations to rectify this? View Quote Attached File |
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My grandfather in Korea. Know most of his buddies froze to death or got killed and it messed him up. |
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M19 MGMC twin 40mm Bofors SPAAG, quite useful against infantry, with an extra .50 M2HB fed by a 200rd tombstone ammo can tacked onto the bow
Attached File Guy with the Garand is letting the BAR gunner handle this. "Taking cover behind their tank escort, one man of this ranger patrol of the 5th RCT, U.S. 24th Infantry Division, uses his BAR to return the heavy Chinese Communist small arms and mortar fire which has them pinned down on the bank of the Han River. At left another soldier uses a field radio to report the situation to headquarters" Very nice how much extra ammo the M4A3E8 Sherman is hauling Attached File |
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I’ve got some pics of dad around here someplace. One pic I’m fond of is him manning the gun on an APC of some sort. I’ll have to dig them up.
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After both had passed, I had an opportunity to read letters written by my wife's uncle to his future wife. Written while he was in combat in Korea with the Army.
He described being in a hole with others being killed in their holes all around him by Chinese sappers. Plenty of personal stuff as well. He swore if he made it home, he would never leave. He got married, had an office job and a house, and never went anywhere. No vacations, nothing. He died maybe 15 years ago. I never got to meet him. Very sobering. |
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Dad on the left.
Attached File Dad took this pic. General Ridgway on the ramp at an airfield in Korea. This was after General MacArthur was relived by Truman. Attached File So one day Dad is sitting in his Jeep at an airfield, watching a USO show unload from an aircraft. This young actress jumps in his Jeep and tells him how handsome he is and to look her up sometime. Dad already had a sweetheart (Mom) so he never did. It was this gal, Mala Powers. Attached File |
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In memory of Cpl. Fred Walters, Medic, 1st Cavalry Division, Iola, KS. Died of wounds 4/29/1951.
Uncle Freddie, I wish I had gotten a chance to know you. |
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My biological father was in the Air Force during Korea, but he was never sent there, stayed Stateside the whole time.
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My grandfather was in the Navy for the first couple of years of the war. He never saw combat aside from an angry Italian cab driver shooting his friend in the leg for stiffing him on a fare.
However that little Irishman hated the Chinese with a fucking passion. The Japanese as well actually. His cousin was at Pearl Harbor. |
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VF-52 on the USS Valley Forge, July 4, 1950.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/VF-52#/media/File:F9F-2_VF-52_USS_Valley_Forge_Korea_1950.jpeg My dad is the tall guy leaning against the nose of the plane with his back to the camera. |
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St. Michael Apparition to a Marine- Korean War
Background What follows is a well-known copy of a letter that was written by a young Marine to his mother while he was hospitalized after being wounded on a Korean battlefield in 1950. It came into the hands of a Navy Chaplain, who read the letter before 5,000 Marines at a San Diego Naval Base in 1951. The Navy Chaplain had talked to the boy, to the boy’s mother and to the Sergeant in charge of the patrol. This Navy Chaplain, Father Walter Muldy, would always assure anyone who asked that this is a true story. This letter had been read once a year in the 1960s at a Midwestern radio station at Christmas time. Since many of U.S. troops now are engaged in the Middle East, we include this remarkable story in the hope that many servicemen and their families will invoke the intercession and protection of Saint Michael. We present the letter and let it stand on its own merits. The Letter Dear Mom, I wouldn’t dare write this letter to anyone but you because no one else would believe it. Maybe even you will find it hard but I have got to tell somebody. First off, I am in a hospital. Now don’t worry, ya hear me, don’t worry. I was wounded but I am okay you understand. Okay. The doctor says that I will be up and around in a month. But that is not what I want to tell you. Remember when I joined the Marines last year; remember when I left, how you told me to say a prayer to St. Michael every day. You really didn’t have to tell me that. Ever since I can remember you always told me to pray to St. Michael the Archangel. You even named me after him. Well I always have. When I got to Korea, I prayed-----even harder. Remember the prayer that you taught me? “Michael, Michael of the morning fresh corps of Heaven adorning,” you know the rest of it. Well I said it every day. Sometimes when I was marching or sometimes resting. But always before I went to sleep. I even got some of the other fellas to say it. Well, one day I was with an advance detail way up over the front lines. We were scouting for the Commies. I was plodding along in the bitter cold, my breath was like cigar smoke. I thought I knew every guy in the patrol, when along side of me comes another Marine I never met before. He was bigger than any other Marine I’d ever seen. He must have been 6-4 and built in proportion. It gave me a feeling of security to have such a body near. Anyway, there we were trudging along. The rest of the patrol spread out. Just to start a conversation I said, “Cold ain’t it.” And then I laughed. Here I was with a good chance of getting killed any minute and I am talking about the weather. My companion seemed to understand. I heard him laugh softly; I looked at him, “I have never seen you before, I thought I knew every man in the outfit.” “I just joined at the last minute”, he replied. “The name is Michael.” “Is that so,” I said surprised. “That is my name too.” “I know,” he said and then went on, “Michael, Michael of the morning . . .” I was too amazed to say anything for a minute. How did he know my name, and a prayer that you had taught me? Then I smiled to myself, every guy in the outfit knew about me. Hadn’t I taught the prayer to anybody who would listen? Why now and then, they even referred to me as St. Michael. Neither of us spoke for a time and then he broke the silence. “We are going to have some trouble up ahead.” He must have been in fine physical shape for he was breathing so lightly I couldn’t see his breath. Mine poured out in great clouds. There was no smile on his face now. Trouble ahead, I thought to myself, well with the Commies all around us, that is no great revelation. Snow began to fall in great thick globs. In a brief moment the whole countryside was blotted out. And I was marching in a white fog of wet sticky particles. My companion disappeared. “Michael,” I shouted in sudden alarm. I felt his hand on my arm, his voice was rich and strong, “This will stop shortly.” His prophecy proved to be correct. In a few minutes the snow stopped as abruptly as it had begun. The sun was a hard shining disc. I looked back for the rest of the patrol, there was no one in sight. We lost them in that heavy fall of snow. I looked ahead as we came over a little rise. Mom, my heart stopped. There were seven of them. Seven Commies in their padded pants and jackets and their funny hats. Only there wasn’t anything funny about them now. Seven rifles were aimed at us. “Down Michael,” I screamed and hit the frozen earth. I heard those rifles fire almost as one. I heard the bullets. There was Michael still standing. Mom, those guys couldn’t have missed, not at that range. I expected to see him literally blown to bits. But there he stood, making no effort to fire himself. He was paralyzed with fear. It happens sometimes, Mom, even to the bravest. He was like a bird fascinated by a snake. At least, that was what I thought then. I jumped up to pull him down and that was when I got mine. I felt a sudden flame in my chest. I often wondered what it felt like to be hit, now I know. I remember feeling strong arms about me, arms that laid me ever so gently on a pillow of snow. I opened my eyes, for one last look. I was dying. Maybe I was even dead, I remember thinking, well this is not so bad. Maybe I was looking into the sun. Maybe I was in shock. But it seemed I saw Michael standing erect again only this time his face was shining with a terrible splendor. As I say, maybe it was the sun in my eyes, but he seemed to change as I watched him. He grew bigger; his arms stretched out wide, maybe it was the snow falling again, but there was a brightness around him like the wings of an Angel. In his hand was a sword. A sword that flashed with a million lights. Well, that is the last thing I remember until the rest of the fellas came up and found me. I do not know how much time had passed. Now and then I had but a moment’s rest from the pain and fever. I remember telling them of the enemy just ahead. “Where is Michael,” I asked. I saw them look at one another. “Where’s who?” asked one. “Michael, Michael that big Marine I was walking with just before the snow squall hit us.” “Kid,” said the sergeant, “You weren’t walking with anyone. I had my eyes on you the whole time. You were getting too far out. I was just going to call you in when you disappeared in the snow.” He looked at me, curiously. “How did you do it kid?” “How’d I do what?” I asked half angry despite my wound. “This marine named Michael and I were just . . .” “Son,” said the sergeant kindly, “I picked this outfit myself and there just ain’t another Michael in it. You are the only Mike in it.” He paused for a minute, “Just how did you do it kid? We heard shots. There hasn’t been a shot fired from your rifle. And there isn’t a bit of lead in them seven bodies over the hill there.” I didn’t say anything, what could I say? I could only look open-mouthed with amazement. It was then the sergeant spoke again, “Kid,” he said gently, “everyone of those seven Commies was killed by a sword stroke.” That is all I can tell you Mom. As I say, it may have been the sun in my eyes, it may have been the cold or the pain. But that is what happened. Love, Michael |
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Quoted: St. Michael Apparition to a Marine- Korean War Background What follows is a well-known copy of a letter that was written by a young Marine to his mother while he was hospitalized after being wounded on a Korean battlefield in 1950. It came into the hands of a Navy Chaplain, who read the letter before 5,000 Marines at a San Diego Naval Base in 1951. The Navy Chaplain had talked to the boy, to the boy’s mother and to the Sergeant in charge of the patrol. This Navy Chaplain, Father Walter Muldy, would always assure anyone who asked that this is a true story. This letter had been read once a year in the 1960s at a Midwestern radio station at Christmas time. Since many of U.S. troops now are engaged in the Middle East, we include this remarkable story in the hope that many servicemen and their families will invoke the intercession and protection of Saint Michael. We present the letter and let it stand on its own merits. The Letter Dear Mom, I wouldn’t dare write this letter to anyone but you because no one else would believe it. Maybe even you will find it hard but I have got to tell somebody. First off, I am in a hospital. Now don’t worry, ya hear me, don’t worry. I was wounded but I am okay you understand. Okay. The doctor says that I will be up and around in a month. But that is not what I want to tell you. Remember when I joined the Marines last year; remember when I left, how you told me to say a prayer to St. Michael every day. You really didn’t have to tell me that. Ever since I can remember you always told me to pray to St. Michael the Archangel. You even named me after him. Well I always have. When I got to Korea, I prayed-----even harder. Remember the prayer that you taught me? “Michael, Michael of the morning fresh corps of Heaven adorning,” you know the rest of it. Well I said it every day. Sometimes when I was marching or sometimes resting. But always before I went to sleep. I even got some of the other fellas to say it. Well, one day I was with an advance detail way up over the front lines. We were scouting for the Commies. I was plodding along in the bitter cold, my breath was like cigar smoke. I thought I knew every guy in the patrol, when along side of me comes another Marine I never met before. He was bigger than any other Marine I’d ever seen. He must have been 6-4 and built in proportion. It gave me a feeling of security to have such a body near. Anyway, there we were trudging along. The rest of the patrol spread out. Just to start a conversation I said, “Cold ain’t it.” And then I laughed. Here I was with a good chance of getting killed any minute and I am talking about the weather. My companion seemed to understand. I heard him laugh softly; I looked at him, “I have never seen you before, I thought I knew every man in the outfit.” “I just joined at the last minute”, he replied. “The name is Michael.” “Is that so,” I said surprised. “That is my name too.” “I know,” he said and then went on, “Michael, Michael of the morning . . .” I was too amazed to say anything for a minute. How did he know my name, and a prayer that you had taught me? Then I smiled to myself, every guy in the outfit knew about me. Hadn’t I taught the prayer to anybody who would listen? Why now and then, they even referred to me as St. Michael. Neither of us spoke for a time and then he broke the silence. “We are going to have some trouble up ahead.” He must have been in fine physical shape for he was breathing so lightly I couldn’t see his breath. Mine poured out in great clouds. There was no smile on his face now. Trouble ahead, I thought to myself, well with the Commies all around us, that is no great revelation. Snow began to fall in great thick globs. In a brief moment the whole countryside was blotted out. And I was marching in a white fog of wet sticky particles. My companion disappeared. “Michael,” I shouted in sudden alarm. I felt his hand on my arm, his voice was rich and strong, “This will stop shortly.” His prophecy proved to be correct. In a few minutes the snow stopped as abruptly as it had begun. The sun was a hard shining disc. I looked back for the rest of the patrol, there was no one in sight. We lost them in that heavy fall of snow. I looked ahead as we came over a little rise. Mom, my heart stopped. There were seven of them. Seven Commies in their padded pants and jackets and their funny hats. Only there wasn’t anything funny about them now. Seven rifles were aimed at us. “Down Michael,” I screamed and hit the frozen earth. I heard those rifles fire almost as one. I heard the bullets. There was Michael still standing. Mom, those guys couldn’t have missed, not at that range. I expected to see him literally blown to bits. But there he stood, making no effort to fire himself. He was paralyzed with fear. It happens sometimes, Mom, even to the bravest. He was like a bird fascinated by a snake. At least, that was what I thought then. I jumped up to pull him down and that was when I got mine. I felt a sudden flame in my chest. I often wondered what it felt like to be hit, now I know. I remember feeling strong arms about me, arms that laid me ever so gently on a pillow of snow. I opened my eyes, for one last look. I was dying. Maybe I was even dead, I remember thinking, well this is not so bad. Maybe I was looking into the sun. Maybe I was in shock. But it seemed I saw Michael standing erect again only this time his face was shining with a terrible splendor. As I say, maybe it was the sun in my eyes, but he seemed to change as I watched him. He grew bigger; his arms stretched out wide, maybe it was the snow falling again, but there was a brightness around him like the wings of an Angel. In his hand was a sword. A sword that flashed with a million lights. Well, that is the last thing I remember until the rest of the fellas came up and found me. I do not know how much time had passed. Now and then I had but a moment’s rest from the pain and fever. I remember telling them of the enemy just ahead. “Where is Michael,” I asked. I saw them look at one another. “Where’s who?” asked one. “Michael, Michael that big Marine I was walking with just before the snow squall hit us.” “Kid,” said the sergeant, “You weren’t walking with anyone. I had my eyes on you the whole time. You were getting too far out. I was just going to call you in when you disappeared in the snow.” He looked at me, curiously. “How did you do it kid?” “How’d I do what?” I asked half angry despite my wound. “This marine named Michael and I were just . . .” “Son,” said the sergeant kindly, “I picked this outfit myself and there just ain’t another Michael in it. You are the only Mike in it.” He paused for a minute, “Just how did you do it kid? We heard shots. There hasn’t been a shot fired from your rifle. And there isn’t a bit of lead in them seven bodies over the hill there.” I didn’t say anything, what could I say? I could only look open-mouthed with amazement. It was then the sergeant spoke again, “Kid,” he said gently, “everyone of those seven Commies was killed by a sword stroke.” That is all I can tell you Mom. As I say, it may have been the sun in my eyes, it may have been the cold or the pain. But that is what happened. Love, Michael View Quote I had never heard or read about that. Thank you. |
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Quoted: My uncle was there, had nothing good to say about it. Nice thread OP View Quote Of all the wars I’ve read about, I believe the Korean Conflict is the one I would least want to be a part of. As hellish as the steamy jungles of Vietnam or the barren deserts of Iraq were, at least none of our soldiers had to worry about freezing to death. I believe having to fight a war in freezing temperatures would suck shit. |
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Quoted: I legitimately feel bad that the Korean War is the one I know the absolute least about. Any good book/video recommendations to rectify this? View Quote My dad was there so that left me with a lot of questions he never talked about. I've read many books and this was the one that satisfied. https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/in-mortal-combat-john-toland/1111736602 |
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Quoted: http://www.navsource.org/archives/02/020917.jpg http://www.navsource.org/archives/02/020917a.jpg https://external-preview.redd.it/5gMsrfuG-w8Mj0qUal6333XzTBCmCJwek1SJr4AU0qg.jpg?auto=webp&s=c9335ca538f3f228693cf6f01386fd66ca4783e5http://www.navsource.org/archives/02/020917c.jpg My dad was on the flight deck when this happened. He never talked about his time in Korea but for a few things and all of those were good memories. Except this one. He was from a tiny western PA. town and this made the papers all over the area, a local kid was there. My grandma sent him the newspaper clippings, which my dad kept in his cruise book along with his ribbons. View Quote Landing any aircraft on any aircraft carrier is already inherently highly dangerous. Landing any aircraft on a straight deck aircraft carrier is that Danger x Squared (no bolter or go around) Landing any jet aircraft on a straight deck aircraft carrier is that Danger x Squared yet again. Delay in thrust spooling back up means you land & catch the 1-4 wire or else. Those pilots landing early jets on straight deck carriers in tossing Korean seas were absolute bad asses through & through. |
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In. My grandfather was over there, but he passed away when I was young, and I know nothing of his service history.
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Quoted: Dad Went to Korea as an MP with the 3rd Infantry Division. He transferred into the 45th Infantry Division as a rifleman to earn rotation points faster. The 45th ID was a NG Division. The Guardsmen were activated for 12 months. At the end of that period, they were allowed to go home, but the division stayed in Korea and was refilled with volunteers and replacements. The first Pic is Dad on the left and a G.I. prisoner on the right. The second Pic was taken on R&R in Tokyo before he returned to CONUS. https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/132206/Dad_Korea_MP_edit_3_jpg-2747423.JPG https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/132206/Dad_45th_ID_Korea_JPG-2747427.JPG View Quote 45th ID they’re still around - in brigade form https://ok.ng.mil/Units/45th-Infantry-Brigade-Combat-Team/ |
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Great thread..!!
The man who raised me, my grandad was a Marine there. Was issued WW2 Pacific theater jungle gear in the winter, had to salvage warm clothing, was part of the retreat from the Yalu. He really felt McArthur dropped the ball. |
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Grandfather was a mortarman in the 35th IR. He had started in Japan and got sent o er when the Norks went south. His only story that he ever shared was that the Chinese let them finish Thanksgiving dinner before attacking. I've got a fuck ton more pictures I need to go through of his. |
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During Korea, my father was sent to Panama. Jungle trng as if it was anticipated that we'd go to 'Nam.
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Quoted: During Korea, my father was sent to Panama. Jungle trng as if it was anticipated that we'd go to 'Nam. View Quote My grandad went from Korea to Vietnam in 1959. Trained south Vietnamese, around 1960 and then he got deposited into a company called Air America. He dispised communism. |
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Bottom left photo of the OP….
The man climbing over the wall was Marine 1st Lt Baldomero Lopez. He lost his life literally seconds after that photo was captured. He went through the Naval Academy during WW2 and received his commission in 1947. In 1950 he was stationed in China and volunteered to go to the front lines after the outbreak of the Korean War. That photo was taken at the beach landing on Inchon. He stormed the beach and led his men over the sea wall. Moments later he was struck in the chest by automatic machine gun fire as he was directing his men and attempting to throw a grenade into a machine gun bunker. The blast caused him to drop the live grenade, and without hesitation, he crawled over and covered the grenade with his body to protect his Marines. He was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor. |
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My Grandfather served in Korea, won't talk about it much. Went and volunteered for service with 10 of the 12 boys from his rural graduating class. His train ride and bus trip to basic was only his second time leaving the family farm for a " big city". My dad said he would never touch rice or any "Asian " type food since that time. I have alot of pictures in the safe, but not alot on my phone. Im blessed that he is still with us and is watching my sons (his great grandsons) grow up.
Attached File Attached File Attached File Four generation picture this Christmas Attached File |
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I spent a year with the 23rd Infantry in Korea in 1986.
Maneuvering unopposed over that terrain in the winter and summer was daunting enough. While there, I read quite a bit on the war. One book I always recommend is This Kind of War, by T.R. Fehrenbach. |
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Quoted: Dad Went to Korea as an MP with the 3rd Infantry Division. He transferred into the 45th Infantry Division as a rifleman to earn rotation points faster. The 45th ID was a NG Division. The Guardsmen were activated for 12 months. At the end of that period, they were allowed to go home, but the division stayed in Korea and was refilled with volunteers and replacements. The first Pic is Dad on the left and a G.I. prisoner on the right. The second Pic was taken on R&R in Tokyo before he returned to CONUS. https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/132206/Dad_Korea_MP_edit_3_jpg-2747423.JPG https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/132206/Dad_45th_ID_Korea_JPG-2747427.JPG View Quote was you Dad from Oklahoma? I knew dozens of men in the 45th who served. |
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My Uncle Manolo and my Step-Grandfather Guilo were both drafted and served in the all-Puerto Rican 65th Infantry Regiment sent to fight in Korea. The US Army was still segregated back then, which is why it was an all-Puerto Rican unit. The 65th “Borinqueneers”, as they were called, was sent to assist the Marines’ retreat from the Chosin reservoir and were among the last to evacuate the port of Hungnam after establishing a defensive perimeter. The 65th was also engaged in the last battalion-sized bayonet charge up two hills against the Chinese 149th Division on Feb. 2, 1951 just south of Seoul.
Neither my uncle nor my Step-Grandfather ever talked much about their war experience other than to say it was cold and miserable. My Step-Grandfather eventually became a Drill Sergeant after the war and served in the Army for 20 years before retiring. Sadly I don’t have any pictures of them while serving in Korea. |
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I most likely won't have much to contribute, but well done OP!
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I don't have much to add but this, the Memorial in DC is spooky as hell.
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