The Graybeards - KWVA - Korean War Veterans Association

valley to detour traffic and put our other
dozer to work uncovering the buried
dozer. The dozer operator questioned
whether or not we should start right in
uncovering it. I told him, “No, we’ll leave
it covered up and maybe it will grow geraniums,
Get busy.” So he did. After we had
it partly uncovered one of the tank dozers
from the nearby armor unit came up and
gave us a hand clearing the slide then
hooked on to the half buried dozer and
pulled her out. A little worse for the wear
but we soon had it running again.
After about three months of filling and
cutting we finally got the job done and
bypassing the switchback of the road
helped traffic quite a bit and everything
was going smooth or so we thought. Then
the rains came like the movie of the same
name. It rained heavy for about three days
and along about the second day the road
we had worked on for so long started
going down stream. We were busy building
up berms to keep the road from washing
away but to no avail. The whole cut off
disappeared down into the valley and our
wooden culvert stuck out of the ground
into the valley for about 30 feet. It was
built strong anyway. Traffic went back to
the switch back and we went back to filling
the ravine. About that time our unit
was transferred to building a road up into
the Punchbowl area and I soon left for the
states so never did hear how the job came
out. As they say, an engineer’s life is not a
happy one.
Target Practice
As a rule things were pretty quiet and
our platoon sergeant always had a few
other irons in the fire, I was usually stuck
with his job of keeping everything smooth
and operating out on the road. Although
we had the Korean Service Corp doing
most of the hard labor our guys still had to
stay busy and out of trouble. We also had
some heavy equipment working here and
there I had to keep an eye on.
I was of course on foot, no jeep for me,
and hoofing it up and down the road yanking
my troops chain here and there and a
rare pat on the back occasionally.
We were all issued MIs and a passel of
ammo but we were not allowed to shoot
the things without express permission
from higher up. I don’t know who exactly.
Maybe if the CCF and the NKPA infantry
came running down the road our way we
When I mentioned to him that I was getting tired of toting
the M1 around, he came up with a neat little M2 carbine
complete with two banana clips taped together.
could find out. Fortunately that never happened.
At least not to me.
I always thought a M1 was a little on
the heavy side to be toting around especially
with all of the miles of road we had
to maintain. My brother Robert L. Case
was stationed with the Air Force at K47 in
Chun-Chon not far from our company and
I used to get down to see him now and
then as our army reppo deppo was there
and I would go down there to pick up
replacements. We also flew out of K47
when we went on R&R. Sometimes 1
could talk the first Sergeant into letting me
slip off down there for one reason or
another. My brother knew how to locate
beer and women which were in short supply
in our area.
When I mentioned to him that I was
getting tired of toting the M1 around, he
came up with a neat little M2 carbine
complete with two banana clips taped
together. He had managed to liberate it
somewhere as he also worked or had some
dealings with Med Evac. He also got me
the new type parka before they got around
to issuing them to us ground pounders. I
won’t forget the parachute he gave me.
Made a nice sheet for my bunk So I took
my M1 and retired it to rusting away
under my bunk.
I then carried my lightweight carbine
which made the walking up and down
MSR 29 much more easy. It also made me
the envy of all the rest of the troops in my
platoon. I was surprised that some chicken
officer didn’t decide it was illegal for me
to have the carbine and promote it for
himself; but I guess they never thought of
it..
Along the road we was maintaining
was a rather rapid running river. Name
unknown to me. As I plodded along I happened
to spy a beer can floating merrily
along as the song goes. After looking both
ways and not seeing a soul in sight I
picked up my trusty carbine placed it on
single shot and let loose a few rounds to
improve my marksmanship. I missed of
course. Oh well I thought and slung it
back on my shoulder.
I no sooner did that when over the hill
came a couple of MPs in a jeep. They
stopped and ask me who just fired that
weapon. “Not me”, I said “Must of been
that truck load of Turks that just went by.
They are always doing things like that.”
“I don’t think so” One of them said. “It
must of been you”. I considered confessing
to my transgressions and throwing
myself on their mercy, but what the heck
does a MP know about mercy. So I just
stared at them and they me. Finally after a
few more futile attempts to get me to tell
all they drove away.
A few more minutes later my platoon
leader drove up in his jeep from the direction
the MPs just went. He had our platoon
medic along. Everyone had a jeep but me
it seemed. “Get in” He said. So I did,
thinking well here we go Far Fast
Stockade or Leavenworth. But he said
nothing and I said nothing. The medic
grabbed my carbine and started to smell
the barrel. He must of seen them do that in
some detective movie. I yanked it back
and told him to keep his paws off of my
weapon.
I didn’t like the guy anyway. The lieutenant
never said a word till we stopped on
down the road where the troops were
working. We discussed the job somewhat
then I got out of the jeep and away he
went. I always wondered if the MPs had
talked to him about the shots. He had been
commissioned from sergeant and probably
didn’t like MPs either. I never did know
and nothing more ever came up about it. I
refrained from improving my marksmanship
anywhere but on the range after that.
Later more troubles came a knocking at
my door, if my tent had a door and shooting
off a weapon was the least of my worries.
I found out the guy that was out to get
you wasn’t always on the other side of the
line.
A few guys had ask me to bequeath
them my carbine when I rotated back to
the states but oddly said carbine wound up
with a broken stock just before I left and
the carbine was still hanging on a hook in
the supply tent last I saw of it.
January/February, 2002 Page 55