Only ten minutes later one of the outposts heard the rattle of an empty can. It was reported quickly and at a whisper through the system. A few minutes later more were heard. Now the whole compound was alerted. Hufham sat in his position and waited. Slowly, he began to see faint movement as the North Korean soldiers eased their way along the hill. There was no reason to do anything yet. Wait until they had the largest number of them dead to rights, then let them have it, he thought. Hufham glanced over at Ricks. In the faint moon he could see a glint of concentration in Ricks’ eyes as he peered at the slowly moving Koreans. They continued to crawl in closer. In a few minutes Hufham motioned for Ricks to get ready while he pulled out some grenades. All along the line, the other men in their positions were doing the same thing. Closer and closer they came until Hufham could see individual parts of their uniforms. When it seemed that he could almost reach out and touch them, the telephone crackled “Now!”
The entire side of the hill seemed to explode at once and riflemen and machine gunners opened up on the hapless Koreans. Grenades went flying through the air, exploding in packed groups of soldiers who let out cries of pain and fear as a result. All along the line came shouts of anger as the soldiers charged towards the fortified positions, only to be mowed down by the American assault weapons and machine guns. The flash of the .50 caliber weapons occasionally illuminated a North Korean soldier as he rose up or fell down. Many times it caught the agony of the dying soldier’s face.
The mortars were in business now hitting along the crest of the hill where the North Koreans were coming with a few peppering the far hill where the North had set up their own mortars. At one point a large explosion was seen indicating a round that hit an ammunition supply. The M102s then fired a set of star shells over the enemy positions showing for the first time the extent of the assault.
North Koreans were everywhere. Their forces had been hurt badly but more and more seemed to be pouring over the top of the hills toward the American lines. Several machine gun positions were set up and firing into the lines, killing indiscriminately. As Hufham watched, heavier artillery rounds began falling around them. The North Koreans obviously placed their guns farther back where they could not see.
The M102s began hammering at the Koreans to keep them from reinforcing their lines, but the effort was running short. In several places the Americans were overrun. Hand to hand fighting was starting to break out and the North had the weight of numbers on their side. The American mortars were doing their best, but after several assaults, they were running low on ammo.
A North Korean soldier suddenly appeared in front of Hufham’s position. Hufham nearly cut him in half with his rifle as two more came up. With methodical precision, Hufham and Ricks, along with two other men, mowed down the soldiers until they were piled so deep the advancing soldiers had to climb over them.
Still they came. One screaming soldier managed to get into the small emplacement and lunged at Ricks, who calmly shoved his bayonet almost clean through the man. As he fell back, two more came in. Both were picked off by the Americans, but not before one was killed by a rifle shot.
In a final effort, the North Koreans were repulsed. Hufham killed one in a hand-to-hand duel where he slung the man against a piece of splintered wood and then pressed him into it. He turned around to see one last soldier scrambling toward him; his bayonet leading the way. Just as it seemed Hufham’s life was over, the soldier doubled over and fell like a wet rag at Hufham’s feet. That was when Hufham saw Ricks standing there holding his rifle by the barrel. The stock was broken and hanging. Ricks looked at him and shrugged his shoulders. “Out of ammo,” he said.
Major Peterson stumbled into the position and looked at the carnage. “You’ve been busy,” he said. “We won’t be able to take another assault. Gather the men you can and head to Hill 419. See if you can drag one of the 102s with you. I’m going to set the charges. As soon as they come again, we’re all out of here. Get going,” he ordered.
“Yes, sir,” said Hufham. He turned to the others. “You heard the man, get going. Ricks, go along the line and tell the men to be ready to move out when I say.” All the men took off to get things ready. Hufham had two men head to the jeep and hook up one of the mobile guns. The second was hooked up to a deuce and a half sitting unscathed nearby. As they were finishing up, a cry went out from across the ridge as seemingly thousands of North Koreans charged through the brush toward the American lines. The last of the mortar rounds were expended and men kept up the fire while the rest began their orderly retreat. Major Peterson ordered the men to leave and Ricks jumped in the Jeep and pulled out toward the next hill. Hufham led the remaining men in their fall back, still taking a toll on the North Koreans as they advanced blindly and foolishly into what was to become a trap.
As the last of the Americans scrambled down the hill and away, Major Peterson’s last surprise was unleashed. The fuses were set for a number of charges throughout the camp; especially around the remaining ammunition. The Americans were only about half way down the hill when the entire top seemed to lift as one gigantic piece straight into the air and fall with a thud back to earth. Men were knocked from their feet and the sounds of the explosions were deafening.
Suddenly all fire ceased. The Americans continued to make their way back down the hill, but no one followed. Hufham went back a short distance to help retrieve the last of the soldiers. In the midst of the carnage Major Peterson suddenly appeared in front of him. His uniform was torn and bloodied. There was a gash across his temple and what looked like blood running down his arm. He was dragging himself slowly toward the hill with a pronounced limp.
Hufham took the Major’s good arm and draped it over his shoulder to steady him. Peterson winced slightly, and then continued at a faster pace. “You know, you are one ugly sumbitch in the dark,” he said.
Hufham chuckled. “Shouldn’t talk to your guardian angel that way, sir,’ he joked.
Peterson shook slightly as he let out a stifled laugh. “Yeah, maybe,” he said. Then he turned serious. “Everybody out?” he asked.
“As many as were alive,” Hufham said.
The Major seemed to droop slightly. “Well, at least we made them pay for it,” he said sadly.
The two men were met by several of the other men and helped up Hill 419. There wasn’t much to be thankful for. Hill 419 was next.
Chapter 10
After two stops along the way, the Cessna business jet landed at San Francisco International Airport. As the engines shut down, a man came back, opened the cabin door, and let down a set of stairs. Hammond stepped out of the aircraft into the warm early evening. The sun was setting and he could smell the sea. It was like being reborn.
An old Cadillac pulled up beside the jet and a weathered looking Chief Warrant Officer stepped out. He was wearing summer whites that contrasted with his tanned and wrinkled face. He walked up and saluted the Captain. “Captain Hammond, I am Bos’n Patnaude. The XO asked if I could come pick you up, sir,” he said. Hammond extended his hand. It was met with a firm grip. The old man’s steely blue eyes never left him. It was almost as if he were sizing him up. “Let’s get your bags and head out,” the man said.