Hufham picked up the telephone and gave it a spin. “Emplacement two to command post. We have a couple squads of DPRs heading our way, Major,” he said.
“I see them,” came the reply. “Unit four, stand by, do not engage until I give the word.”
“Unit four roger,” came the voice of Captain Washburn.
“Attention all units, this is command post. Mortar one target hill one. Mortar two target hill two. Machine gun posts no targets at this time. Artillery positions hold; however, if we start to see armor, target the armor and hold. Remember, we don’t want to give away our true positions,” the Major reminded them.
Along the ridge of the hill the North Korean squad made its way through the brush. If they could get around the back of the Americans, it would be a slaughter. The brush was thick, but not too difficult to get through. Comrade Lieutenant Ho pushed his men forward. They had been walking almost since the war began and needed a break. But the Political Officer told them emphatically they could all rest after the war. It was politically imperative that this campaign get over with quickly. The Political Officer joined them in this push. After carefully surveying the adjacent hill by air and on the ground, it was determined that no one had considered it important enough to fortify, even though it was strategically situated along this major road. The soldiers pulled out their knives to slash away at the undergrowth as they proceeded. It slowed their progress to a crawl. The Political Officer went into another of his tirades, but nature was not something to be overcome through political will. Ho had to laugh at the man. He was typical. Almost every political officer he met thought that things would become fact simply by pronouncing it. Ho helped him out on several occasions when he found himself caught in some brush or dangerous situation. They were coming up on a rocky outcropping that would make easy transit.
Peterson watched the slow progress through the undergrowth. He also watched as the two hills completed their preparations for attacking the retreating troops. It would be just about right. The Claymores were positioned just behind the rocky outcropping so the ricocheting fragments could cause more damage. Once the Claymores went off, everything would go.
The Political Officer climbed up over the rocks and began walking along a path down the other side. His men were following behind. This campaign was sure to help him make a name for himself in the government. Any successful operation, no matter how small, looked good in a record. He silently held Lieutenant Ho in contempt. The man was weak politically, but his men followed his instructions and so he served his purpose — at least that is how it would read in his report. As he walked along, he never questioned why a path lay along the rocks. He was curious when he came up on some metal looking things stuck in the ground. He stopped a moment, bending down to get a better look.
The Claymores went off in unison wiping the entire squad of North Koreans off the side of the hill. At the same time, small sections of the netting were pulled back and the mortar rounds began dropping all along the ridge of both hills almost at once. North Korean men and equipment went flying as the rounds burst inside the tightly packed groups and their hastily dug positions. The machine guns and mortars never even had the chance to respond. The Americans used their mortars with great skill, clearing the top and walking the rounds down the opposite side of the hill. American mortar crews worked feverishly making sure every square inch of the North Korean positions had been neutralized. Within ten minutes the Major called a cease fire. The netting was pulled back in place.
The North Korean commander watched in horror as both hills seemed to disintegrate before him. He called for more troops to ascend the hill, but they were met by frantic troops coming down trying to escape the carnage. As the last of the American troops crossed the junction between the two hills, both sides seemed to explode at once, showering the roadway with debris and boulders. Then more explosives went off leaving the road unmanageable.
The Korean Commander cursed the Americans for denying him his planned route. There was pressure from above to meet the planned objectives at whatever cost. He immediately ordered the engineers forward to clear and rebuild the road. Then he began peering through his glasses to find out where the attack came from. But there was nothing. No smoke, no fallen trees, no evidence of an emplacement on any of the surrounding hills. He gazed back at the place of the first explosion. He could see where the Claymores had done their work, so he expected that emplacements were there. He next ordered artillery brought up to fire on that position and the surrounding area.
From a hidden site above the bend in the road, the spotter watched the activities out of sight from the rest of the company. Using the field telephone, he told the mortar crews exactly where everything was being brought up. Waiting until as many enemy soldiers were in the area as possible, Major Peterson gave the order to commence firing. The mortars spat out their deadly cargo at an alarming rate; raining down on the narrow roadway between the hills, killing troops, damaging the guns and other equipment, and more importantly, igniting the ready service ammunition that had been brought up to service the guns. When that happened, the high walls surrounding the roadway began to be peppered with ordnance. In a few seconds, the dirt and rock face gave way on both sides of the steep hills and slid down into the narrow road; making it narrower still. After using a rocking ladder type movement with the mortar rounds for the next 15 minutes, all fell quiet again.
“Move the mortars and equipment to position bravo, I say again, position bravo,” Major Peterson ordered into the telephone. Quickly and quietly, the mortars were dismantled and moved to a new covered position nearly 100 yards away from their previous positions. The entire move was accomplished under the natural canopy or the camouflage netting, giving nothing away.
“There isn’t much moving down there, Major,” the spotter said into his telephone. “I see all the guns overturned, a couple of trucks burning, and a shit load of soldiers dead,” he said. “They moved the rest of the equipment back behind the next bend. I would bet that road is all clogged up now, sir.”
“Just keep your eyes open,” the Major told him. “Now that we’ve pissed them off, they’ll be back.” He turned and walked up to Hufham’s new position. The men were putting the finishing touches on the emplacements and reinstalling the field telephone.
Hufham saluted. “All set, Major,” he said. “How far back did we knock them?”
The Major glanced back toward the road. “I figure about half a klick. They’ll regroup and start coming over those hills to get at us, or they’ll bring up some armor. Either way it will be a hot night,” he said gruffly. “I doubt they were able to get a good fix on where we were shooting from, but I’m being cautious. Have your men get some rest after they re-supply. I have a feeling they won’t come till later this evening when it gets dark.”
Hufham nodded in agreement. “Yeah, they’d be sitting ducks down there,” he said pointing to the road. “I’ll have some of the decoys set off towards dusk to let ‘em know where we aren’t,” he said with a grin.
“Good. That will last long enough for us to drop ‘em. Just make sure no one lets the cat out of the bag. I’ll do a walk through later on,” the Major said.
Hufham made his own rounds of the positions, reassuring the people and reinforcing the Major’s ideas. Whoever came up on their positions was going to learn a really hard lesson.