A Hill Called White Horse: A Korean War Story

Contents

Dedication

A HILL CALLED WHITE HORSE

Prologue

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EPILOGUE

Author’s Afterword

Interview with

The men

Thank You

Some facts regarding

the Battle of White Horse

Dedication

To Mr. Joseph Adams and

Colonel (ret) Jack Callaway

For sharing your lives and experiences with me

To the 213th Field Artillery Battalion

To the 9th ROK ‘White Horse’ Division

To all Korean War Artillerymen

A HILL CALLED WHITE HORSE

A Korean War story

To the reader

In October 1952, 1st Lieutenant Joseph Adams and 1st Lieutenant Jack Callaway were members of the 213th Field Artillery Battalion, IX Corps Artillery, serving as American artillery Forward Observers (FO) supporting the 9th Republic of Korea (ROK) Infantry Division. The 213th was but one of 50+ U.S. Army artillery battalions in Korea at that time, and Lieutenants Adams and Callaway could be considered a cross-section of American artillery officers serving in Korea. Both had witnessed and experienced combat, even during the ‘stalemate’ portion of the war. Joe Adams hailed from Utah, and was a hell raiser of sorts, sometimes pushing the traditional limits of authority. Jack Callaway came from Texas, and was through and through a warrior. Both had grown up in very different settings, but in Korea they became friends.

On the 6th of October, an attack by the Chinese occurred on the left central portion of Korea, specifically around a hill mass identified on maps as Hill 395, commonly referred to as White Horse Mountain. Their intent was to break the stalemate and drive through the ROK troops manning this section of the Main Line of Resistance (MLR) in a bold attempt to gain control of the Chorwon Valley and its vital network of roads; some say with the eventual intent of capturing Seoul, South Korea, the south’s capital. These ROK troops were relatively new to the fight as forward operating combat troops, still living with the realities of previous versions of their army known to sometimes ‘bug out’ in the face of the enemy. This was not for lack of courage, but more a lack of training and preparedness, most having been farmers or laborers only a short time before. But, by the middle of 1952, the Republic of Korea, with the assistance of the United States military, was starting to put together some first rate units. Some of these were now holding Hill 395 and the surrounding areas in the IX Corps portion of the front lines.

Lieutenants Adams and Callaway happened to be some of the many FO’s manning bunkers and positions all along the MLR on the 6th of October. They were simply, as with most cases when heroics are involved, in the right place at the right time. Neither set out nor wanted to be a ‘hero’ and to this day neither considers themselves one. They were combat soldiers and following the war and into their later years humble and respected members of their communities. But the reality is, they, and their team members, were heroes in the truest sense of the word. What they went through in the span of a few days solidified their names for eternity in the annuals of bravery in battle. Both would deny this acclaim, but both nonetheless deserve it.

The epic Battle of White Horse Mountain, as it is now known, is barely a footnote in American military history. Most references to this battle are usually placed as an addendum to the Jackson Heights struggle, which happened right after the White Horse battle subsided. While American military history records Jackson Heights as the main ‘issue’ of October 1952 in Korea, what our history fails to correctly identify is that the Jackson Heights battle was actually a diversionary, or secondary assault to coincide with the White Horse attack. At the time, the Battle for White Horse was looked at as a stunning success by not only the ROKs but also by the US military, enough for a ‘Special After Action Report’ to be compiled on the cause, preparation, responses, and effects of the battle from a US standpoint. In the modern day documentation of the Korean War, most, if not all official histories don’t even mention this battle by name, just as an engagement that was mostly fought by the ROK, with American artillery and tank support.

The battle for Hill 395 lasted ten grueling days, during which many ROK and Chinese lives were lost. This story concentrates on the first two days of the battle, which are the main event of the Joe Adams and Jack Callaway saga. These two days coincide with the letters and personal remembrances of both men. The vast majority of soldiers in this story are real people whom I have either spoken to directly, corresponded with through the mail or e-mail, or remembered by others who served in the 213th. Joe Adams, Jack Callaway, Jack Helm, Paul Braner, Phil Erbes, Bill Starich, Bud Sawyer, Henry House, Leon Humphrey, Stewart Shirey, are all real men and the overall events reflected in this tale are all a real part of their past. Sergeants Oxendale and Quinterro, along with Corporals Augustyn and Silcock are real people too, who unfortunately have either passed away or I have not been able to find to interview, but through the memories of those that served with them are the basis of their actions as written here.

The depictions of the individual ROK and Chinese troops are either a composite of a number of men, in a general sense, again gleaned from the 200-plus interviews I have done with Korean War veterans over the years, or are real identified persons whose names have slipped into history or are buried in some yet to be discovered dusty document. The events and people are real, most of which has been learned from those personal interviews, from declassified documents, and from historical reference. What they went through is real, documented history. This is a ‘story’ in that their words and actual minute-by-minute interactions have been interpreted, and I have done my best to follow the spirit and intent of every man in each and every word. Not one of them, in all of the communications I have had, has ever told me in a ‘John Wayne’ fashion their memories and exploits. Not one of them has ever bragged about what they did or thought of themselves as some great warrior soldier. Everyone, to a man, simply told me that they did what they had to do, and that there was no glory in it.

Presented here is what I simply call a Korean War story, because that is what it is. However, this is not just another war story, but an attempt at putting the reader ‘there’ in the thick of a significant event that happened over fifty six years ago and to feel what it was like to be a soldier in the ‘Forgotten War’.

Tony Sobieski

October 2008

Prologue

Five years after World War II ended, America had moved on. She had dealt with the worst humankind had to offer, and its citizens were prospering. 

But, now as part of the new United Nations, she was once again called to deal with tyranny and aggression.

The Korean War, considered by some to be nothing more than a police action, had started. While most of America asked the question Where? Her sons were in the midst of war again.

Peace talks started after a year of fighting, but by October 1952, in what most historians call the ‘stalemate’ portion of the war, while each side waged a war of words, battle and death still occurred.

The Chinese launched an attack in a bold attempt to dominate the Chorwon Valley, in an effort to eventually capture Seoul South Korea and gaining leverage at the negotiations table.

The only thing that stood in their way were a few untested ROK Infantry Regiments, a handful of American artillerymen and tankers,

And a hill called White Horse…

1   

Silence… then quietly at first, there is noise in the distance. It is a low rumbling, slowly getting louder. The rumbling turns into slightly louder distinct individual sounds. A match lights. Slowly the light of the match shows a gas Coleman lantern. There’s a face behind the lantern, it’s an American GI, his helmet on, unshaven, dirty, he has the ‘thousand yard stare’ so prevalent with men in combat. He lights the lantern, looking intently at the match as he moves it to the wick. With the lantern lit, he looks over his shoulder, not really looking at anything real, more of an instinct of turning his head to noise. Those individual sounds now give way to the understanding that it is artillery booming and exploding in the near and distance. Looking around, as the bunker is backlit from the lantern, he sees his two fellow team members. They are busy and intent on their work. Seeing and hearing the Coleman lantern being lit, one of them reaches over and pulls a cloth curtain across the room, ensuring no light escapes out through the observation slit. Don’t need to draw any unnecessary enemy fire on a cold October night.

The three-man team is 1st Lieutenant Paul Braner and his Forward Observer crew from Headquarters Battery, 213th Field Artillery Battalion. They are in Observation Post ‘ROGER’, a bunker located on Hill 284, a nameless hill mass where the 2nd Battalion, 29th Republic of Korea, or ROK Regiment is manning the front lines. It’s October 2nd, 1952, 0200 hours local, or two in the morning for those back in the civilian world, four days before an unsuspecting struggle is to begin. Sergeant Jerry Sax, who lit the lantern, has the EE8 field phone pressed to his ear. They are in contact with their battalion Fire Direction Center, called the ‘F-D-C’ for short.

Sir, I’ve got battalion FDC on the line again like you asked, what do you want me to tell them?

Give me the phone sergeant… Braner says rather nonchalantly as he reaches out with his hand, barely even looking to where he’s reaching as the sergeant hands him the phone.

The two enlisted men listen as Lieutenant Braner proceeds to have a conversation with someone on the other end of the line.

Using the 213th’s call-sign of ‘NOTICE’, Braner begins with the perfunctory requirements NOTICE, this is ROGER, how do you read? and a muffled reply can be heard coming from the other end of the line.

I can read you loud and clear NOTICE. Get Major House on the line… There is a slight pause in the conversation as an artillery blast lands near their bunker and dirt comes down from the bunker beams. Braner instinctively cringes from this as he begins his conversation with Major Henry House, the 213th Field Artillery Battalion’s Executive Officer.

Yes sir… I think so sir… The ROKs caught him a few hours ago… they say he just walked across no-man’s land and gave himself up… yes sir… yes sir…well sir, I think they might just kill him, you know how they are with the Chinese, they hate them…

His face cringing again, this time at the order that’s just been given to him over the field phone.

Yes sir… I thought you’d say that, I’ll see what I can do sir… Oboe Peter ROGER out.

Lieutenant Braner hangs up the phone and turns to his sergeant.

Sergeant Sax, you keep watch with Corporal Morse, I’m going to the ROK CP bunker. If you think you see any good targets, don’t wait for me, call in a fire mission. Battalion wants me to see if I can prevent the ROKs from killing that Chinese officer that surrendered a few hours ago, one of the ROK lieutenants said he was talking about an attack the Chinks are planning, if only I can get this guy back to battalion and then to the intelligence folks, it might mean something…

Sergeant Sax, always on the lookout for his team leader, reaches for and grabs an M1 Carbine, and holds it out to Braner.

Got it sir, be careful, the Chinese have been firing a lot of mortars at the trench line in the last hour…

Grabbing the carbine with both hands and adjusting his helmet, Braner steps out of their bunker through the blanket that is covering the doorway. The world he is now in is filled with artillery explosions, some near, some distant, as they hit Hill 284, flashing in the night sky. Low clouds reflect the flashes, giving each explosion a double effect. Lieutenant Braner slowly works his way through the ROK trenches, past ROK soldiers and some bunkers, mortars exploding every so often on the hill, sometimes near the trench. A .30 caliber machine-gun crew is firing at some positions as he shuffles past the crew, all the while he is in a hunched over position as he moves along. Occasionally taking a quick glimpse over the trench wall, he can see tracer rounds arching back and forth over the valley in a deadly dance. The atmosphere is glum, it’s dark, but light enough to be able to see and make out shapes and people. Artillery flares, sometimes called ‘star shells’, descend from the sky; randomly rocking back and forth under their small parachutes that adds light to the eerie scene on the hillside, making it more of a surreal than real landscape.

2   

Arriving outside of the 2nd ROK Infantry Battalion CP bunker, Lieutenant Braner is dirty and tired, but doesn’t waste time. The bunker sentries, sitting in a sandbagged position outside the larger than normal entrance, recognize him as the American artillery officer, and let him go by. The trench line and surrounding areas have all been stripped of vegetation, having been pounded for months by artillery and tank fire. Dirt and discarded supplies of war are everywhere. Most of the ROK soldiers occupying the trenches are living in bunkers and fortified positions every dozen yards or so, each bunker entrance covered with some sort of cloth so no light escapes from within. Throwing back the blanket covering the CP bunker, Lieutenant Braner takes a deep breath and steps inside. It’s a much bigger bunker than his FO team has, and there are about ten soldiers inside, all filthy from war, and seemingly everyone is smoking cigarettes. This combination of human stench and cheap cigarette smoke gives the bunker an odd pungent odor that immediately assaults the senses. He squints and looks around, getting his eyes adjusted to the dim light, and in the middle of the bunker he notices a man, his uniform ripped to shreds, hands tied behind his back, head and face bleeding and swollen.

Lieutenant Braner asks Is that him?

No one pays attention to him and they continue to kick and abuse the prisoner, laughing and joking in Korean.

Observing this and the condition of the prisoner, Braner yells out Jesus, you’re gonna kill the man!

Realizing that no one is paying any attention to him, he yells in halting Korean NO! NO! in an attempt to make them stop.

The ROK battalion commander comes out of the shadows and yells loudly in Korean STOP to his men, and everyone quiets and turns toward him. Braner steps over to the ROK commander, a colonel he knows, and lets his intentions be known with as much authority he dare exhibit.

Colonel, we’ve got to get this prisoner back to headquarters, if what he says is true, he’s got a lot of valuable information that could save many lives….Korean and American lives…

The colonel looks at Paul Braner and pauses as if in contemplation, then speaking in halting English Paul, my men are just having some fun. Come, join us… and he steps over to the prisoner. Turning and facing the Chinese officer, the ROK commander yells at the prisoner in Korean You Chinese scum! You have killed my people long enough! No More! Do you hear me? No More!

As he says this, he back-hands the prisoner across the face, almost knocking him over with the strength of the sudden strike. Watching this and suddenly stepping between the two men, Lieutenant Braner pleads with the ROK officer Colonel, please!

At first the ROK colonel looks at Braner with fire in his eyes, as if saying How dare you! but then quickly calms himself. There is a momentary pause in the bunker, enough that the sounds of artillery explosions on the hill seemingly become louder. Leaning over and speaking to the colonel in a low tone, Braner tries to get the ROK commander to understand the necessity and importance of keeping this man alive and unharmed Sir, you know that I greatly respect you and your men. We have become like brothers since being up here. But, please don’t let this get in the way of yours and my duty. You know what we must do…

The ROK officer, survivor of many brutal engagements in the defense of his country, looks at Lieutenant Braner as if a friend, and he pauses. It is now silent in the bunker, the only sounds being that of the distant and near artillery exploding, and occasional rifle or machine-gun fire. The tension is thick as the colonel stares at Braner, and then removes his sidearm from its holster. Without blinking, he places the barrel of the weapon against the temple of the prisoner, all while looking right into Lieutenant Braner’s eyes. Without even a flinch, Braner holds his ground, not saying anything, but is defiant. The prisoner bows his head awaiting his execution. As the gun barrel is placed against his head, the other men in the bunker begin to move out of the way so as not to get splashed with any blood or brain matter when the trigger is pulled. The tension goes on for a few more seconds, and then the ROK leader seems to come to some sort of decision and has a conversation with Lieutenant Braner, his English being better than most ROKs.

Lieutenant Braner, I have lost many men…

Yes sir, you have…

I have every right to kill this prisoner right now…

Yes sir, you do…

My people have suffered greatly at his and his army’s hands…

Yes sir, they have…

His countrymen have killed many Americans as well…

Yes sir, we have lost many friends…

There is an additional pause as the colonel is still wrestling with his thoughts, then he asks Lieutenant Braner finally Then why do you care so much for his life?

So we don’t lose any more friends, and you don’t lose more than you have already…

The colonel’s facial expressions show that he is weighing this in his mind. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, as if to release his thoughts and cares, he ultimately comes to a decision, and slowly releases the hammer of his pistol, and lowers his arm. Without removing his eyes from Lieutenant Braner he barks orders to his men in Korean Sergeant! Bind the prisoner and escort him to the American’s bunker for removal off the hill. If anything happens to the prisoner or the American, I am holding you responsible.

The sergeant he is addressing steps forward and snaps to attention before replying Sir yes sir! then quickly hands his rifle to another of the men and checks the rope to make sure the prisoner is tied up tight. Taking a deep breath, his eyes still locked with the colonel’s, Braner bows