How It Was

On the night of April 4, a company-sized (120 men) patrol from the U.S. 45th Division ran into three platoons of Chinese. Both patrols had the same purpose: to snatch an enemy soldier or two for the intelligence officers to question. The ensuing skirmish was typical of dozens during the so-called "lull," which has cost the U.S. 200 to 250 casualties a week. The Eighth Army's Communique No. 938 reported it this way: "A U.N. patrol operating west of Chorwon engaged three enemy platoons at 2215 (10:15 p.m.), directed artillery and mortar fire on the enemy, and was ordered to disengage at 2257. Estimated enemy casualties in the action were 25 killed and 25 wounded."

Now that the next of kin have been notified, the story behind Communique No. 938 can be told:

A thousand yards out in no man's, land, Baker Company dropped off its third platoon in blocking position, sent the other two prowling north, past the moonlit hulks of three wrecked U.N. tanks. In a group of medics behind the skirmish line, Corporal Donald Reddick of Portland, Tenn., carrying a litter, had just slithered off the end of a paddy dike when the Chinese opened fire. Rifle bullets snapped overhead and then the enemy charged out of the dike shadows, throwing grenades. One exploded near Reddick, smashed his right knee. "I'm hit!" he shouted. The man next to him said, "Me too," but added quickly: "It was just my goddam canteen." Later a lieutenant reached Reddick, applied a tourniquet and dressing.

Pfc. Ralph Bennett of Haversville, Conn., a rifleman in the lead platoon, began firing his Garand when the Chinese attacked. His squad mates saw him go down, like a tackled halfback, under a swarm of enemy. When four husky Chinese began dragging him away, the other Americans held their fire for fear of hitting their own man. But Bennett wrenched free, knocked one Chinese down, and ran for his own outfit, with several Reds in hot pursuit. Bennett yelled for covering fire, and a U.S. machine gunner dropped the Chinese who were chasing him. Five yards from the shelter of a dike, a rifle bullet smashed Bennett's elbow. Nevertheless, he made it to the dike.

Chinese lurking in the shadows tried to decoy U.S. litter-bearers by calling, "Medic, medic!" but their accents were unconvincing. One medic, Pfc. Carl Francis of Versailles, Ohio, fired his carbine until he was out of ammo, then ran. Three Chinese ran after him, and one threw a grenade. It exploded close behind him, hurling him unconscious into the mud. Despite the lurking Chinese, whom they could hear chirping like crickets, another medic and a lieutenant crawled out and rescued Francis. He had four grenade fragments in his back.

It was the last night on earth for Pfc. Marvin Brown, 20, of Greenstown, Ind., who had joined the 45th just two days before the division left Japan for Korea. When the Chinese attacked, he scrambled for a low dike. He was up and drawing a bead on enemy grenade throwers when a burp gun got him across the chest. His comrades saw him slumped against the dike with his head showing, then silhouetted in the brief red glare of a grenade. When they reached him, he was dead.

Before the shooting died down, three more men were seriously wounded and one of them died eight days later. The rest got safely back, to report the information to which Communique No. 938 devoted 41 words.

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