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Master Sergeant Hufham and his company held the high ground overlooking the only serviceable road in this sector. The road was surrounded by steep hills, filled with vegetation and a few rock outcroppings. It made a 180-degree turn just beyond the base of Hufham’s hill partially blocking the far side of the road, but denying anyone a lot of maneuvering room. They chose this spot carefully. The top of the hill gave him a 270-degree look at the valley below, and he was going to take full advantage of it. The men were armed with mortars and .50 caliber machine guns. This time they even had some light artillery. Quite an accomplishment except for the fact there were fewer than 50 rounds for each of those guns. Luckily, the other hills around them were smaller, so their position was protected unless someone decided to climb the hill; not a likely prospect. He and the major commanding the unit were given 24 hours to set it up.

Major Peterson is not a bad leader, Hufham thought. He made good decisions and worked with the men to get the job done. Best of all he listened to his NCOs who had been the ones to dream up the plan in the first place. Hufham watched as the men completed the camouflage around the positions. Instead of just draping the nets around, the men had pulled up shrubs and other undergrowth from the other side of the hill to weave into it. By the time it was finished, no one from the ground or the air would be able to see any of the positions. Peterson made his way up the hill toward Hufham.

“Looks good from down the hill. Are the people spaced out enough?” he asked not wanting to increase the likelihood of losing too many to return fire.

“Should be no problem, Major. The ammunition is under cover and the whole place is ringed with field telephones so we can communicate. I checked the line to the next position over on Hill 419. Good comms, and the way is clear for us to back off when we need to,” Hufham said.

The Major nodded. The sound of gunfire could be heard not far away. Heavy thuds of artillery and mortars accentuated the staccato of the rifle fire. “Okay look. I want everyone to get to their positions and stand by. Eat a good meal, but no fires or smoke of any kind, including cigarettes. Pass the word. No one opens up until I say so. We may have one hour, possibly two before all hell breaks loose. When the people from hill 432 come around, have the guys meet them on the other side of this hill and send them back to 419. We don’t need them getting in the way or giving away our positions. I told Captain Washburn to stay on the far side. Lieutenants Harvey and Donnelly are already placed. Just make sure no one runs out into the open. I don’t want to give away anything,” he repeated sternly. It was clear he thought it all through and was worried about getting the job done. Then he smiled. “And keep your head down Top. I may want a ride in that Jeep of yours when this is done,” he said.

“Don’t worry. I got it hid. The keys are in the ignition, sir.”

“Damn, I like an efficient man,” he grinned. He turned serious again. “If we have to leave, get as many of the guys down that hill and back to 419 as possible. Blow up anything left, but above all, get these guys home, Top,” he said.

“Will do, sir. You know where I’ll be,” Hufham said. The men exchanged salutes and the Major blended back into the side of the hill. Hufham scanned the compound. Not a soul was stirring. That was good — exactly what they wanted. Hufham walked to each position along the line and told the men to eat a meal and stand ready. By the time he got to his position his stomach was churning, both from hunger and in anticipation of things to come. Ricks sat back from his binoculars and pointed to an MRE already in its cooker. The chemical heater had the water boiling.

“I made you some beef stew. Have a seat and relax before they come over the hill,” he said. Another explosion was heard and some black smoke billowed up two hills over. Ricks scanned the area and sat back again. “That ought to shut Davis up a while. He’s been bitching and moaning all day about having to set all this up. I finally had to tell him I was going to put my size 11s up his ass if he didn’t get hot,” he said. Ricks had matured quickly since that first night at the DMZ. He developed a focused approach to his job and the ability to get others to toe the line. Most of all, although encouraging, he didn’t mind kicking a few butts to get the job done. He and Hufham had developed a close, strong working relationship. He took another look around. Almost no traffic on the road was going toward the front. Most of it was heading away from it. “Won’t be long now,” he said.

Hufham wolfed down his meal and ate the dessert supplied. Then he threw the box and other leavings into a plastic bag. He doubted they would be policing the area up when they left, but it was good to at least think about it. The noise of gunfire was stronger now and more wounded were being brought back from the front, either in some sort of truck or by foot. Hufham made a call to each position reminding his people not to make a move until the order was given. He had thrown a few expletives in just to get his point across. He was actually pleased with their actions so far. This group had been thrown together from the huddling masses of military refugees who fled the northern part of the country when North Korea invaded. They were harassed all the way toward Pusan and reformed to help meet the needs of a controlled retreat along the front. But the men were not defeated. They pulled together and learned from what happened before. When the Major and Master Sergeant told them the plan, they responded with enthusiasm. This was their chance to get back at the people who started this war. It may not be the best situation, but they would give better than they got.

Ricks was watching the men and machines as they moved back along the road. It wasn’t a rout, but it was close. Lots of people were now trying to save what they had while not getting killed. A few mortar rounds landed at the curve along the far hill. They were here.

A couple of jets flew overhead. Hufham noticed them through the camouflage. They were not carrying bombs, as far as he could see, and the hills restricted what they could do in strafing runs. They passed across the area several times before moving to the north. Hufham pointed as they left. “Reconning from what I see,” Hufham said. “I bet they were checking out the hills along the road.”

Ricks nodded and turned to the other five in the hurriedly dug emplacement. “That’s why we said stay under cover. With all this shit on top of us, those planes have no idea we’re down here. Just stay loose,” he said to the men. He turned to Hufham. “There’s activity on the next hill,” he said. Hufham picked up his field telephone to alert the others and the Major reminded everyone to stay low and hold fire.

The men in the emplacement stared through the camouflage netting to watch a number of men scurry across the top of the adjacent hill. They mostly carried small arms, though a mortar and a couple of machine guns were seen being set up. Down on the road, the allies were carrying out a delaying movement, stopping to shoot and slow the enemy’s approach. It was deliberate work, dashing from place to place, firing at the enemy then moving again. A crossfire had been set up and some of the allied soldiers were drawing the North into the trap. Additional North Korean soldiers scrambled to the top of a hill across the road. It was the same as before, mostly small arms, a mortar and machine guns. More and more soldiers began to appear on the top of the adjacent hill and Hufham watched as an officer directed a part of the group to start moving along the ridge toward his own hill.