From My Service in Korea, I learned…
Daniel McPharlin
7th Infantry Division, 1st Battalion 31st Regiment HHC Recon platoon
As an infantryman serving with the 7th Infantry Division in the summer of 1968 up on the DMZ, I saw and experienced the aggression towards South Korea by North Korean soldiers.
On one of our stakeouts inside the DMZ to intercept North Koreans heading south of the Military Demarcation Line a firefight started. We killed two of them feeling for our trip flares and Claymore mine wires. The other North Koreans fired at us but we were not hit. We detonated a Claymore mine and threw grenades at them and near dawn they withdrew from us.
On October 5th that night a call came over the radio that a squad inside the DMZ had been hit and they requested extraction of their wounded. The first vehicle to go through the barrier fence gate was an Armored Personnel carrier followed by a machine gun jeep. Next was an Army field ambulance then a machine gun jeep. The APC bulldozed into the woods and brought the wounded man out to the road. Two medics carried the stretcher to the ambulance. I was the driver of the rear jeep and could see they performed CPR on him before closing the ambulance doors. All three vehicles raced back to camp two miles away. Sp4 Stephen Nassani died from a North Korean grenade explosion that night.
In the winter we got ordered to go to the barrier fence where a North Korean infiltrator was killed. He was lying in a small trailer and on his face was a grimace of pain frozen in death. Rifle fire blew out his shoulder blade and knee cap. When a squad went to get him, he took his grenade and blew his chest out. They would not be taken alive if possible. Our South Korean KATUSA soldiers remarked his family must be wealthy because he was wearing thermal insulated under garments. Most other infiltrators were found with straw under their clothes to try keeping warm.
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My unit, the 568th Med Co, was a very unique in a sense it was a multi comp TOE unit consisted of US Army active duty personnel, Korean Service Corps (KSCs) and Korean Nationals (KNs). We didn’t have any KATUSAs assigned to 568th, however, our sister company, the 560th Medical Company did. I was assigned as one of the three Platoon Leaders at the 568th and within my platoon, I was in charge of about 30 KSCs, along with my platoon sergeant. The KSCs were unique in their skill sets as medics and civilian service members, fluent in both Korean and English. They were also senior in grade and time in service. They were well trained and skilled in various medical treatment and evacuation operations. I quickly gained a tremendous respect for them as I was a brand new Lieutenant who was their new leader. But I also faced some unique cultural challenges.
I was a 22 year old, Korean American, a female US Army Officer in charge of a group of very seasoned KSCs and this was their very first experience working for a woman, someone who was half their age, without much time and grade and very “green.” They didn’t really know what to expect from me, never mind taking orders from me. I quickly realized this was a very difficult situation for the KSCs, who have traditionally reported to male leaders in a male dominant society and culture. I also realized that respect is not simply given but earned and this was a two way street. I had to first prove to them that I respected their contributions and commitment to the unit’s mission. We were able to do this through various field training exercises, team building and leadership training. Over time and collaborations, we were able to build mutual trust, respect and acceptance of each other. We accomplished many missions and tasks throughout the 12 months we spent together at Camp Humphreys. I can honestly say that by the end of my tour in Korea, we became family.
Army Signalman, Mike Reynolds, who was killed in my company area of the DMZ while stringing wire to our Guardpost Gladys, September 27, 1968 and new 2LT James Weeks, killed on his first patrol into the DMZ on July 20, 1968, both had family members reach out to me and we have become friends. I found Michael Rymarczuk’s mother, brother and daughter in Philadelphia and we became friends. I told Michael’s daughter, Micki, that her father was my DMZ Brother. She calls me and several of her father’s other Charlie Company, 3rd platoon buddies, her “uncles”, because her father, who was killed before he could hold his baby girl, was our brother. Earl Jeffery, WIA July 30, 1968 , also in my 3rd platoon, was flown home after being wounded and we never heard from him again. I found his daughter several months ago in Dennison, Texas. She told me, her father had just died last year and that even though he had survived his multiple wounds from that long night, he had limped all his life and had nightmares. I wish I had been able to find Earl before he died. I carry my DMZ brothers’ memories with me every day. I am proud we helped defend the people of the Republic of Korea from North Korean aggression. Whenever I have to make a public speech, or try a jury case in court, or have a serious doctor’s appointment, I carry my Imjin Scout patch, which I removed from my fatigue shirt, in my pocket. I would not trade that 55 year old faded green cloth patch for any other medal or military award. It says that I served in dangerous situations with some of the best men I have ever met. David Benbow, Statesville, NC (formerly Sgt (E-5) David Benbow, Charlie Company, 3/23rd Infantry, 2nd Infantry Division.
The first time I had the privilege to move to Korea was from 1984-1986, during my elementary school years. This was the first time I was near immediate family members, and I learned from my Grandparents and Uncles the hardships of the war itself. Having fun navigating through Korea, playing with cousins and spending lots of time running up and down Mount Apsan in Camp Walker, Taegu, Korea was my true focus. I didn’t realize the impact of the threat of the Cold War and what was just 8 hours drive north of us in North Korea. The second time we moved back was just after the 1988 Olympics in Seoul. I spent my 8, and 9th grade years in Seoul, Korea at Seoul American High School. This time I was much more aware of the impact of. communism and dictatorship upon societies. We saw the Iron Curtain fall in 1989 while I was in History Class in Seoul. We visited the DMZ and saw the last bit of staunch Russian Red Umbrellas just across the border in North Korea. We drove through the South Korean College student riots proclaiming “Americans Leave Our Soil.”
I came back to the US with a renewed sense of preservation for continuing this story, the Forgotten War. Being more and more removed from the actual physical fighting, I delved into anything I could learn about North Korea and the tactics they take to oppress their people.
There were programs within Eight Army and United States Forces Korea that amplified our relationships. Our NCOA Chapter as well as other organizations both US and Korean had programs that fostered goodwill and built on these strong relationships. As an example, our chapter sponsored the Young Nak Orphanage, and the Bosung Girls Middle and High Schools. There were two unique programs our Chapter implemented. One was an English Camp with the Korean Girls School, and the other was a Military Introduction Program. In the latter program, our NCOA Chapter members and other Volunteers along with US service members, ROK and KATUSA service members. In a nutshell, the students were shown what it was like to be a military service member and how we worked together as an Alliance. This included an introduction to Physical Fitness Training, Drill and Ceremonies, samples of Meals Ready to Eat for lunch etc. The program was very well received by all. We also had Holiday introduction programs, American and Korean Christmas Programs, and information about Thanksgiving in the US and Chuseok in South Korea.
That lasted only a day or two and on the ride up to Uijongbu Camp Red Cloud, I noticed Koreans bent over in their rice paddies working hard. I was assigned to the I Corps newspaper, The Bullseye, as a photojournalist, one of the best jobs I could imagine.
