In Loving Memory
of
William Stewart Dove Sr.

I was placed in 1st squad, 1st platoon. I was assigned as an automatic rifleman and issued a WWII gas mask bag to hold my ammo. I was also issued a knapsack, a summer sleeping bag and a shelter half. My most prized piece of equipment was my "leggings". John Wayne wore a pair just like mine in the movie "Sands of Iwo Jima", which we watched every night in boot camp. I could hardly wait for action! During the next several weeks, we were put into an intensive training program which included live fire. At the conclusion of this training, we were put onboard a ship not knowing where we were going or when we would get there. We had a pretty good idea it was Korea. We were onboard 15—17 days when we docked at a seaport in Japan. We were given liberty when we found out the Japs loved our dress blues. We traded them for all kinds of things. My world came to an end when the Lt. approached me and asked me my age. I replied "18 Sir!" He looked at me, smiled and said, "Try 17." At this point, I realized that my lie about my age had been found out. I was not alone; they sent about a hundred of us to a Jap base called Otsu. We were then known as "Uncle Sams Misguided Children, (U.S.M.C.). While I was here, Baker Company was landing at Inchon. They took the capital, Kempo Air Field and began the drive toward the north. The UN forces began their counterattack and chased the red army back to the Manchurian border overlooking the Yalu River into China. It looked as though the police action was over. There was talk the troops would be home for Christmas. This changed as thousands of Chinese volunteer soldiers swept across the border and surrounded the UN forces. The 1st Marine division and Baker Company were located in the Chosen Reservoir area. The 1st, by sheer weight of numbers, found themselves being forced back to a position 75 miles below the 38th parallel which separated the north from the south. For the 100,000 strong UN forces, it was a terrible setback. Their goal now was to fight their way back mile after mile to the port of Hungham where they could be evacuated to Pusan, which is located in the southern end of Korea. Both sides suffered sever casualties; including frost bite brought on by sub zero weather. When asked how did if feel for a Marine to retreat, I think it was Chesty Puller who replied, "Retreat Hell! We're attacking from a different direction!" While my fellow Marines were undertaking this grim task, I was pulling guard duty in Japan until October, when I would be 18 years of age. I returned to my company while we were regrouping in Pusan. I heard tales of horror from buddies who survived the ordeal which ranked alongside the Bataan Death March in WWII. I was told the Chinese looked like ants on the horizon as they crossed from China into North Korea. Little did my company know that they would soon be exposed to a living hell. Like us, the Chinese were not dressed to survive the bitter sub-zero temperature. Thousands on both sides suffered from frost bite, which led to amputation. Like in the winter of 1951, bolts would freeze on the weapons. We had to kick them open or urinate on them, whichever came first. Fires could not be started because it would give away your position, which meant certain death. The pain from the cold in Korea, regardless of what winter you fought in, was unbearable. But sill, we fought back, mile after mile, not leaving our dead behind. The Chinese were equipped with WWII surplus supplies, a lot from Germany. They had the feared "Burp Gun", which at close range was a terrible weapon. They carried a ball of rice which would last for days. Artillery was scarce due to the inability to move in mountainous terrain, but they had the feared "88" cannon which was moved on wagon wheels. Unlike normal artillery, which ascended from a high arc with a whistling sound, the feared "88" gave no warning. It shot, then hit like a rifle. Most of the time, it was fired and then moved before we could zero in on it. War was about to become a reality to us as we began our push forward to the north in order to regain lost ground. My outlook on war was about to make a drastic change. As we made our way to the north, I was about to get educated as to what war was all about. I soon learned, the Chinese attacked at night to ward off air attacks. Like in the Wild West, they used bugles as a means of communication. The attack flares were the first order of the day. Large lights loaded on trucks behind the lines would bounce off the clouds to show us what was in store. After an hour or so of intense fighting, the bugles would sound again and the enemy would fade into the darkness. After this first fire fight, the sight of dead around us left fear in the hearts of the green recruits who got their first taste of what war was all about. We were in shock from what we had endured. At this point, it was not a John Wayne movie; life at this point became precious. We began to dig our foxholes a little deeper. When we lit a cigarette we would cover our body with a poncho for fear of a sniper ending our day. We slept while others stood watch. We slept with our sleeping bags zipped down, for it was said, that if a Marine was captured with cloth around his legs, referring to our leggings, the soldier would be rewarded with a medal and a cow, which was a sign of wealth in China. Sleep became precious; waiting for the attack, wondering if you would be alive when daylight came was a way of life. One mission was to enter an army area that had been overrun. As we entered the CP area, the tents were still up. We felt and observed death all around us. Pictures by the hundreds everywhere of loved ones where the enemy had took their pick. The line of defense around the CP was littered with dead. This was war; this was what I was looking forward too. Disaster once again struck Baker Company. It was around February 20th, 1951 if I remember correctly. We were driving blackout to relieve another element of the UN forces. It was a mountainous terrain with very narrow roads. Artillery was all I heard from the distance before I fell to sleep. When I awoke, I was on a stretcher on the side of the road. Next to me were two dead and two injured Marines. The truck was upside down about 20 feet from a drop off that seemed like it was two miles to the bottom. I asked the two injured what happened. Both said they heard a small explosion before the truck went over the hill. I heard several different versions when I returned but I tended to believe the two injured Marines. I later learned, from a reliable source, that the truck had actually got to the shoulder of the road and the ground caved in. Unknowingly to us, at this time we were about to begin a long journey that we can tell to our grandchildren. They loaded us up into an ambulance and proceeded to an army medical station behind the lines. While en-route, the driver took a wrong turn and we were met with small arms fire from the enemy. Our driver returned fire while the other was frantically trying to turn the vehicle around. All this time, we lay helpless on the stretchers. The Lord must have been on our side because we made it to the medical station. When we arrived, I was placed in a tent full of Chinese prisoners. From what I could see, most were suffering from frost bite. I lay there for about three or four hours waiting to be killed by the enemy before being seen by a doctor. He decided that I should be moved by train to Pusan where two hospitals were docked. These were the USS Consolation and the Repose. If I remember correctly, both of my legs were placed in temporary casts which stuck out about 6 inches from the ends of my feet. This made it impossible to stand or walk incase of an emergency. I was placed on the train and as the train began to move, I felt renewed and safe for the first time in a while. When we rounded a curve several hours later I could see a flat bed with sand bags and ROK soldiers with a machine guns mounted. As we moved peacefully southward, it dawned on me my insulated boots were gone. The military was taught a lesson during the winter of 1950 when we only had those rubber things. They began to issue thermo boots at Pusan to prevent frost bite. The army relieved me of mine at the med station. Out of the quietness came a loud explosion, the shattering of glass and I felt the car leave the tracks and gently roll over onto its side. I'm not sure how, but I found myself out of the car and on the ground. I'm sure no one helped me out and I couldn't walk…but I was out. I had survived yet another ordeal. The Lord surely must have had something in store for me. I was then loaded into a truck and transported to the hospital ship Consolation. To get aboard the ship, four ropes were lowered what looked like a mile to the concrete below. These ropes were attached to the stretcher and I was pulled up to the top deck. I've been scared of heights ever since. At 18 years of age, I was already a man. Death became a joke and there was no more fear. We laughed at the dead enemy soldiers placing cigarettes in their mouths as they lay motionless in death. We placed human skulls on sticks and proudly displayed them around our fox holes. We walked past scores of dead on a daily basis without showing any remorse or pity. I wondered, "What are we becoming?" We were issued c-rations, which included cigarettes, canned food and a dessert. We were also issued beer. To get the beer cool in the summer, we would dig deep holes in the ground, place in the beer and then cover it up for a few hours. Mail call was a happy occasion, especially when we received mail and food from our loved ones. There was no recreation or any need for money, except to gamble with. The only hope you had was to survive your 12 months until your replacement arrived. As one's time to leave got closer, you became more cautious, digging your fox hole a little deeper, because you knew by experience, many of your buddies had lost their lives with only a few days left. Finally, it was my time. I beat the odds. I was going home. As I left the war zone and watched it slowly fading out of sight, I left my buddies, all of whom I never saw again. As the years go by, I wonder if they made it or did they give their young lives for humanity? Will they be remembered for their sacrifices and the suffering they endured? Or will they just be a sad memory in the minds of Marines who fought by their side?
Cpl. Billie Dove USMC Baker Company 1st Battalion 5th Marine Regiment Korea, 1951-1952
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As we wandered around on the hill, a sound was heard that can never be forgot; the sound of a burp gun. The story SGT. Waldo Wolfe gave in his autobiography was the true story. As we made our way from the high ground to the valley below, we were met with small arms fire to our left. Naturally, we all hit the deck. As for me, I buried my head in the dirt afraid to look up. The only feeling I had was a feeling of fear. Putting it bluntly, it was not a Marine laying there, it was a coward. A call rang out to make our way across a fast moving stream. The stream was about twenty feet across. In front of me was a huge Marine with two sleeping bags attached to his pack. When he had gotten about halfway across the stream, one of the sleeping bags dropped into the water and was headed down the stream. He quickly chased it down. After crossing the stream, we all assembled on the reverse slope of the hill. It was here that LT. Hancock's lifeless body was placed upon the top of a Jeep. The company was then told to make their way up to the top of the hill, I was ordered to stay with the LT. To this day, I've never forgiven the person who gave me this order, but it was probably the best thing that could have happened to me. I figured that, based on my actions when fired upon, they probably figured that I was the least expendable. Shortly thereafter, I found myself alone and scared. I felt that every gook in the area knew my exact location, and that I would be dead by morning. As the darkness fell, my fear increased. As I recall it, every minute felt like an hour. Suddenly, from out of the darkness, I heard the shuffling of footsteps heading directly towards my position. Then a strange thing happened. All at once, I became calm and the fear totally left me. I guess that at this point the 18 year old boy had become a Marine and accepted the fact that I would die like one. I inserted my finger into one of the grenade pins and decided to throw it when the sound got about thirty feet away. But for fear of messing up and killing myself, I decided to use my rifle. When the sound got to what I thought was about thirty feet away, I opened fire into the direction of the sound. At the sound of my shots, a group of Marines yelled out, "Hey!" They were heading to the rear to get tank support, which came at daybreak. Thank God I missed and that I never used my grenade. At that point, I had used up all the fear that I had to last a lifetime. I got scared lots of times, but never again did I press my head into the dirt. At that point, I became a Marine.
Semper Fi and God Bless, Bill Dove
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I think Baker Company had another first. I think we were the first company in modern military history to transport supplies to a high mountain peak by using bulls. As we made our way to the north, during January or February of 1951, we arrived at this small village which was a safe haven for some of the gorillas. As we entered the village, you couldn't help but notice three huge bulls. I thought this was strange since the scuttlebutt was that if you owned a cow or bull in the orient, they were sacred and you were considered rich. However, this village looked very poor. There was also scuttlebutt that said for each Marine captured with cloth around his legs, the person would be rewarded with a medal and a cow. I don't know how much truth was in either of these statements. As we entered the village, most of the troops moved to higher ground while some ran down the enemy. A few of the stragglers surrendered without a shot being fired. I guess that ball of rice that they carried to last them for the week ran out or they simply lost their will to fight. As my group was about to make our way to the top of the hill, a lieutenant stopped five of us and said, " You Marines stand by to take up supplies". To our surprise, we were led to these large bulls loaded with water cans and supplies. We looked at the lieutenant, then the bulls, then the hill, which now looked like Mt Everest and not a normal mountain. We thought he was pulling our leg until we saw that they were loaded with supplies. Once again, I was at the right place at the wrong time! I don't know who the lieutenant was but he had to have been promoted to general. It was about a quarter of a mile or so through a wooded area before we would make our way to the base of the hill. Needless to say, we all felt uneasy. We felt that if we didn't get killed in the ambush, a falling bull would most likely get the job done. Each of us with a rope attached to a bull slowly made our way to the top, unloaded, and made the dangerous trip back down. We quickly made our way back up to the top where the odds of having to duplicate this feat again would be slim. This goes to show that the Baker Company will go to all extremes in order to get the job done.
-Bill Dove Korea 1951
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