These memoirs are not an attempt to answer, solve, or resolve the
problems arising from or about the three-year-long Korean War or
the much longer stalemate that followed. This story was written to
let you know how one very young, very scared marine saw his very
first war and how he reacted to the killing and the mayhem of it.
The stories are my view of that war, a war gone to ground in the
trench lines. Dig into the stories and you may find something you
were not expecting.
I am well aware that my view of the Korean War has no historical
importance. Still, it is my view, and I want to share it with you.
I do not have a cause to plead or an ax to grind, and that alone
ought to count for something. My memoirs are selective and most
certainly tainted with time. My recollections are a lot like boot
mines, and ought to be approached with caution.
I was a grunt, a Four Deuce forward observer, assigned to duty
with a marine infantry company every time the 1st Marine Regiment
went back up on line. During the time I was in Korea my boondockers
were firmly planted in trench-line mud. When I came home in
September 1952, I was proud that I had helped in the attempt to
stop Communism in Korea. I was proud of all the men I served, and
served with, and I was a little bit proud of myself, too.
General
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