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Korea, the Last of the Fun Wars |
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(Many of the "Other Heroic Events" in Part One describe humorous situations; however, some chapters do not, including the excerpt here.) Pages 111 through 114 What Price Bravery The lifeblood of a combat Marine can be said to literally be in the hands of the Navy corpsman attached to his unit. Thousands of Marines owe their lives to their corpsman. This is the story of one of them. I am not going to use his last name. That’s not to slight him or to try to keep his identity secret. It is because the fifty years that have passed have clouded this old mind from some things, last names being a case in point. Charley was a corpsman. It doesn’t mean that was his occupation. It literally means that Charley was a corpsman . . . in every sense of the word. Charley had fought in World War II. He had been a corpsman then and, after being recalled to active duty after the invasion of Korea, he was once again a corpsman. This story is about Charley and I swear every word is true.
The fighting had been terrible. The casualties heavy. Charley was attached to a unit that had been set up as an advanced perimeter defense. The unit came under heavy mortar and artillery fire. The Chinese Communist soldiers were close enough to have been able to set up a deadly machine gun barrage. Casualties had exceeded fifty percent with no end in sight. Fifty yards ahead of the unit was the forward perimeter position. There was no doubt that the Marines in the forward position had been wounded after letting battalion know the unit was ordered to pull back. But there was one thing wrong with the order. Pulling back would be no problem. The problem was how to recover the men in the forward foxhole. The company commander was willing to follow the orders but in true Marine Corps tradition, he wasn’t prepared to abandon his men. The captain gave the order to pull back and then proceeded to crawl forward towards the foxhole to try to bring his men out. He had crawled about thirty yards when he was hit in the spine and paralyzed. He yelled, "CORPSMAN!" Charley, hearing the cry, immediately started forward to attend to the wounded man. Running in a zigzag pattern, Charley was hit twice. He never slowed down. On reaching the captain, Charley realized that he would not be able to assist in any way. Charley bent down, picked the captain up in a fireman’s carry and proceeded to run back to the Marine lines. Dropping the captain, Charley then started back to finish the job and recover the men in the forward foxhole. When he got to the Marines, he saw that two of them had been wounded very badly. So once again, Charley grabbed one of the Marines and started back to the lines. Again he was hit—this time in the side. On arriving back, he put the Marine down and went back for the other wounded Marine. This time, he received no more wounds. Picking up the last live Marine, he started back once again. Before anyone could stop him, Charley stood up and again ran back this time to recover the dead Marine. God must have been watching over him because, this time, Charley drew no enemy fire. Charley bent down picked up the dead Marine in his arms, stood up, and started a slow walk back to the Marine position. Not a shot was fired at him. It was as if the enemy soldiers were saluting Charley for his tremendous courage. Arriving back, Charley gently put the body down and sat there and started to cry. Thirty minutes later, the medical helicopters arrived to airlift the wounded out. When they tried to load Charley on the helicopter, he started to fight and scream that he couldn’t leave. "THERE ARE WOUNDED TO CARE FOR." They finally had to sedate Charley and strap him in.
For gallantry above and beyond the call of duty, Charley was awarded the Navy Cross—the nation’s second highest award. I believe that Charley should have received the Congressional Medal of Honor. But it really wouldn’t have made any difference to Charley. You see, Charley never knew he had been awarded a medal. Charley was confined to the psychiatric ward of the Philadelphia Naval Hospital. A day doesn’t go by that Charley doesn’t relive that day over and over again.
Charley, if you are still alive, I can only wish freedom for you from your horrible nightmares. Sleep in peace, Charley, wherever you are. |