The Korean War by Bob Middleton ’51

The following is the full excerpt that was previewed in the Class of '51 May 2018 Newsletter. If you are not receiving Newsletters, make sure your information is up to date at AggieNetwork.com/Profile.

Bob Middleton ’51

Bob Middleton was in “E” Infantry at A&M and graduated in August 1951 with a Bachelor Degree in Mathematics And he already had orders to report for duty. His story below tells about his experiences during the Korean War. After his service was complete he went to work for Magnolia Petroleum (later Mobil Oil then later ExxonMobil) and retired in 1988. Bob and his wife, Bobbie, live in College Station. They have two daughters, Deborah and Kathryn ’78 as well as 4 grandchildren and 8 great-grandchildren.


THE KOREAN WAR
AS EXPERIENCED BY
ROBERT L. “BOB” MIDDLETON
TEXAS A&M CLASS OF 1951

I am finally writing this after many years of procrastination because 1) I did not particularly want to remember some of it, and 2) I really did not think anyone would be interested. However, since I am now getting rather “long of tooth” I feel it might be nice for my daughters and grandchildren to have a written record of a small part of family history, so here are some of my war experiences from more than a half century ago.

When I was graduated from what was then The Agricultural and Mechanical College of Texas (Now Texas A&M University) in the summer of 1951, and commissioned as a 2nd Lieutenant in the Infantry, the Korean War had been under way for more than a year, and much of the early heavy fighting up and down the peninsula had already taken place, but would still go on for another two years. In other words there was still a lot left for the rest of us to experience.

Since I was already an Infantry officer, my first assignment, like all other good new Infantry officers, was to spend 16 weeks at The Infantry School (TIS) in Fort Benning, Georgia to learn how to be one. It was an interesting 16 weeks as we were required to do most of the hands-on training that was required of a new recruit, which for me was very beneficial. There were several of my Aggie classmates there from the other Infantry outfits, including Ken Schaake, Ron Foshee, Jerry King and many others which always helps when things get down. Some of these names will come up again in this narration.

It was also during this period that another very important event happened in my life. We were all given Christmas leave and I was married to Bobbie Joyce Harvey, a student at Sam Houston State Teachers College (now Sam Houston State University) in her home town of Palacios, Texas. The marriage still thrives. We have two daughters, three grandsons and one granddaughter, five great-grandsons and three great-granddaughters, which has nothing to do with the Korean War, but this is a good time to throw that in.

After completion of the 16 week Associate Army Officers School, I was then sent across the country to Fort Ord, California to train new recruits being drafted and trained for action in the war. I was then assigned to Company C, 20th Infantry Regiment, 6th Infantry Division.

My wife and I were assigned to a duplex on Sherman Circle in Ord Village, which turned out to be directly across the street from Ken Schaake and right next door to Ron Foshee. Even then, as now, Aggies were everywhere.

Soon after I arrived, a new cycle of recruits was sent to Company C for training and I was given a platoon of raw soldiers to prepare for war. A lot of drilling, rifle training, physical exercise, maneuvers, and all other training it takes to prepare a soldier for battle were crammed into a few weeks. I would like to relate one incident that happened one day at the rifle range that is of interest. I was assigned to handle the firing range for a period of time and several hundred recruits would be sent for M1 rifle qualification. While supervising the firing line I noticed that one of the Privates was wearing an Aggie ring. I sought him out at break time and introduced myself and discovered he was a Veterinary Medicine graduate from the Class of ’49 or ’50, and had just been drafted. I suggested to him that with his degree and background he could surely get a commission by probably just submitting the papers, but he suggested that I not do him any favors – the only thing he wanted was to do his time and get back to the Veterinary business. I do not remember his name and never saw him again. I only hope he made it through and had a happy and eventful life.

The life at Fort Ord was rather grueling with long hours and somewhat hard physical training but was good preparation for the new officers as well as the draftees. Most of the NCO cadre and senior officers were veterans of WWII or Regular Army Korean veterans who had completed their tour of duty. The weather was quite pleasant as we wore winter uniforms through the summer. The only problem was a Pacific fog that came in every morning.

All reserve officers knew that in time they would receive orders to FECOM (Far East Command) without fail and were generally prepared for them when they came. Regular Army officers were sent to EUCOM (European Command), unless they requested otherwise. This was not a written policy, but was always the way it happened. I toyed with the idea of applying for helicopter light school but decided against it, since it required a three year minimum hitch, and I was almost a year into my two year requirement. Schaake got FECOM orders and left. Foshee and I received our orders a few weeks later and life began to get more exciting.

After a thirty day leave with my folks in Tomball, Texas, and Bobbie’s folks in Palacios, Texas, I boarded an American Airlines DC6 at Houston Hobby Airport (Houston’s only airport in that time) and flew to San Francisco and reported to Camp Stoneman for processing. This did not take long and I was on my way. I had always said I wanted to go over on a slow boat and come home on a fast plane, but the exact opposite happened, of course. My MOS (Military Occupation Specialty) of 1542 (Infantry Unit Commander) gave me top priority, it seems. I was put aboard a DC4, the smallest 4 engine airplane and headed west. I was the only Infantry officer with a plane load of Artillery officers, who, it seems had been together for a long time. I had visions of getting misplaced with them and sent to an artillery unit, but of course that did not happen. I may be wrong, but I think the MATS (Military Air Transportation Service) pilot said we would fly across the pacific at 6,000 feet, which seemed quite low. I do know that the entire flight was rough and everyone, including the stewardesses got sick. We took off about mid-morning and landed in Honolulu during the night and were fed a good meal, re-boarded and flew to Wake Island and landed during the heat of the day. The crew advised us that Wake was not subject to military regulations and we would be well advised to dress as cool as possible. It was very hot. We were fed and given a little tour of the Japanese fortifications on the island. Wake Island was just long enough for a landing strip, which took up the entire length of the island. Boarding the plane again we headed for Tokyo and landed in the middle of the night. From there we were bussed to the base (a harrowing ride, I might add) and given another good steak and assigned to a bunk and given a schedule for processing.

After breakfast that morning Lt. Jack Tomkins ’50 met me and took personal charge of my processing. Jack had been at Fort Ord when I was there and had noticed my name on the list of transient officers. He had been sent to Japan a few weeks before and was assigned to this personnel unit. As usual, always an Aggie to help other Aggies. My dreams of being misplaced with a bunch of Artillery officers came to a halt when my 1542 MOS was noticed and I was pulled out and made a Courier to deliver Top Secret documents to Eighth Army Headquarters in Seoul. I had a cylinder chained to my wrist and issued a 45 caliber pistol and told to defend this to the death. I thought it was probably some clandestine order to General Taylor to launch a massive attack at dawn, or something equally earth shattering. Again my mind started playing tick on me. If I could pull this off without a hitch, perhaps I would be able to spend the war ferrying messages between Tokyo and Seoul. Hmmm. I was given a private jeep ride to the airbase and all the way to the plane, and had a secret number to call when we arrived in Seoul for a private escort to Headquarters. The plane made one landing in Korea before Seoul, but I was not allowed to get off, according to my orders.

Upon arrival in Seoul, I found a phone and made my clandestine call and in a while a jeep showed up with an armed guard and delivered me and my cylinder to Headquarters (HQ) where I found the office to which I was to report. A sergeant behind a desk saluted me and asked if I was Lt. Middleton. I said yes, and he started rummaging around in his desk and found some keys, unlocked the chain, tossed the cylinder in his in-box and said “Let’s go get a cup of coffee”. So much for secrecy. I never found out what I had delivered, probably a batch of 201 Files

(Army Personnel files). One thing came out of it though. I got to keep the 45 and carried it for my entire tour instead of the 30 caliber carbines other Lieutenants had to carry. My fellow officers were quite envious of me. Naturally, I had to tell them what a dangerous mission I was required to perform to have the privilege to carry a 45 pistol.

I was quickly processed at 8th Army and sent by small plane to the 40th Infantry Division, then by helicopter to the 160th Infantry Regimental Headquarters. There I was interviewed by the Deputy Commander, a Lt. Col. whose name I cannot recall, assigned to the 3rd Battalion, then sent to talk to Col. John McAleer, a very impressive commander. When we got back to the deputy’s bunker, the oil stove was pouring oil everywhere and just as we were walking in, it exploded and almost ended my war career before I got there. Everything burned inside, including my 201 file, which had to be replaced all the way from the Pentagon and every stop in between. Sure enough, a chopper happened to be going to Battalion with an empty seat and I traveled on. I had travelled by air all the way from Houston, Texas to Battalion headquarters. Great benefits come with a 1542 MOS. At Battalion I was assigned to King Company which was located on Heartbreak Ridge. I spent the day at Battalion HQ because the rest of the way could not be traveled in daylight, because once you rounded the last curve in the road, you were in direct enemy sight for about three miles straight up the Mung Dung Ni Valley, so all traffic was at night with the lights off. There was a large sign as you rounded the curve that read “BEWARE – FROM THIS POINT JOE CHINK DIRECTS TRAFFIC’. This was my first hostile experience. Artillery was going out and coming in, but not very close at the time. That night I was taken by jeep to the King Company and as soon as we headed up the valley, I could see what I had been hearing. Artillery and mortar going out and coming, quad 50 caliber machine guns being fired with tracer bullets and exploding on the side of a mountain in front. They were putting on a good show for the new guy. Needless to say, I was rather nervous. Would this be my last ride?

When I arrived at the Company Command Post (CP), I met my CO, one Lt. Salucci, which may or may not be spelled correctly, the Co Exec and others, and told I would be given to 3rd Platoon which was spread out all across the Mung Dung Ni Valley from Heartbreak Ridge down and all the way across the valley to the other side. I had 55 men in my platoon and the current platoon leader would be leaving as soon as he showed me the lines. I had a platoon of five M26 tanks attached to my rifle platoon and was told to get acquainted with the tank platoon leader as soon as possible. M/Sgt. Ignacio Medina, my Platoon Sgt., then came to the CP and took me down the trenches and introduced me to my men stationed in bunkers and along the line. Down the ridge and about 1/3 of the way across the valley ran a swift flowing shallow river. The bank on the east side, from where we were coming was straight up and about 15 feet high and could only be traversed by a rope ladder, which was lowered by the soldier on duty at that station all the time. At night was a password/countersign operation. This was changed every day and passed down from 8th Army HQ in code every day. As a matter of interest on April 21 the password was “Texas” and the countersign was “Aggies”. Once down you could usually step across the river on the large rocks scattered across. In winter, it was frozen over. From that point west was very low and level, traversed by a zigzag trench which was dug and cleaned out at night. The men slept in bunkers placed at intervals and manned on a 24-hour basis. The valley was the lowest ground in the area and the worst possible position to have from a tactical standpoint. We were facing the Chinese and they controlled all the high ground to the north and any movement outside the trenches was under enemy observation. My platoon CP was a rock and sandbag covered, log braced, wood enclosure about 25/30 yards behind the lines and had no trench connecting it to the lines, which made routine checking of the troops rather hazardous. We were under constant artillery, mortar and small arms fire which increased when anyone made an appearance. Even relieving onesself became a well scheduled process.

When Sgt. Medina and I arrived at the CP that first night, I was briefed by the outgoing Platoon Leader, a Lt. Shaheen, who already had his things together and left the next night to parts unknown, hopefully home. I was on my own now, a young small town boy suddenly put in charge of 55 men, at least half of whom were older than me, and all hoping and praying that this kid would make the right decisions and not botch thing up and get us all killed.

The next morning, as suggested, I made my way over to the tank CP, which was about 10/15 yards from mine and constructed with beams, rock, and sandbags, to introduce myself to the Platoon Leader. Now here is the shocker! There he was, half way across the world in a very hostile environment, Lt. Ken Schaake, ’51. He looked up and said something like “Where have you been, I’ve been waiting for you”. From Texas A&M to Fort Benning to Fort Ord and now together in the Mung-Dung Ni Valley of Korea.

We had a two man Muster. His five tanks were dug in across the valley, camouflaged as much as possible, but how do you hide five M26 tanks on a valley floor with the enemy looking down on your every move. They were firing their 90 millimeter guns all day and night. It was interesting times.

When I was getting acquainted at the Company CP, the Exec Officer, a Lt. Salaskar, or something similar to that told me I was getting the “International Platoon”. When I asked what he meant, he just said I would find out. I soon discovered I had men from everywhere. They were from all over the USA as well as Cuba, Puerto Rico, Mexico, one Canadian and about 40% KATUSAS (Koreans Attached to the United States Army), who were soldiers from the ROK army sent to fill out the shortages in the US Army. The 40th Infantry had quite a lot of shortages.

This would be a good time to discuss the 40th Division briefly. It is actually the California National Guard, which was nationalized at the beginning of the Korean War, given some maneuvers and sent to war. The shoulder patch is a blue square with a gold sunburst in it and was known as the “Fire Ball” division, and other more descriptive names which we will not go into here. The people of the state were not happy about their boys being sent to fight and pressured Congress to bring the Unit back. This, of course, could not be done, but the soldiers were brought back, a few at a time, and replaced by people from other units and new troops being brought over from the states, like myself. Eventually the only thing Californian about the Division was the shoulder patch. The troops were from all over. It was sometimes referred to as the “Cry Baby Division”. Be that as it may, we had a brave fighting group.

More than half of my platoon could not speak English, but Sgt. Medina from San Antonio, was a big help with some and I had a houseboy/interpreter by the name of Pak, who followed me everywhere and helped communicate with the KATUSAS. They would send kids who could speak English and were too young for the ROK army to the front lines to serve officers who had KATUSAS attached to them. He did not have a flack jacket, helmet or weapon, but he did not seem to mind. As soon as they reached draft age, they would replace them with another young boy. The last one I had, Kim, was 14, very intelligent, and spoke better English than any of us.

My CP was staffed by myself, the platoon sergeant, a radio operator, a messenger and Pak, the houseboy, along with rats of all sizes, which I would occasionally shoot with my trusty 45. We ate C-Rations at breakfast and lunch, and a hot meal would be brought in every night after dark from the Battalion. It was quite good for the circumstances. I particularly remember the Thanksgiving and Christmas meals to be outstanding.

The line was manned in shifts 24 hours a day with particular emphasis at night. We were usually up all night and tried to rest during the day. I am somewhat of an insomniac myself and found sleep difficult. Being on the low ground and with the tanks around, we received a lot of incoming fire during the day. All movements outside the trenches were on the run. Our flack jackets were rather heavy, and we had to wear helmets at all times. We were issued thermal boots which were quite effective if you stood in one place and did not move around, but I found they were rather hot when you were active. I chose to wear my regular army boots. We were required to issue each man a clean pair of socks every day and watch him change his socks and take the dirty pair and send them to the rear to be washed and recycled. It seems the army does not trust their men to change their socks.

The nights were spent on patrol or monitoring the patrols that were out. Every night each platoon sent out an Ambush Patrol a few hundred yards in front of the MLR (Main Line of Resistance) to protect the lines and warn of any impending attack. Of course in case of attack, they would be the first to get hit. This patrol was called a “Nursery” and we had radio contact with them at all times. They were relieved halfway through the night and the relief would come in just before light. During the winter, patrols wore white loose covers over their uniforms to blend in with the snow, such as can be seen on the patrol members at the Korean War Memorial in Washington, D. C. On moonlit nights with all the snow sometimes you could see almost as good at night as during the daytime. It was extremely cold during the winter and sometimes these Nursery Patrols were devastating. At times we would relieve them twice.

During my later career, I spent a three year assignment in Norway, and I was never so cold as I was in Korea. The wind blowing through the valley was sometimes more than you could take. The men complained about the cold, but never about their duties. On one occasion when the first Nursery was relieved and returned to the lines it was discovered that one man was missing. For obvious reasons, I will not mention his name. He was a Corporal and Assistant Squad Leader. The patrol had eight men and he was the rear guard. No one heard anything and he was in position when they left to return. This was reported to Company HQ, and I immediately got a patrol together to look for him. The biggest problem in picking the men to go was picking the men who had to stay behind. Everyone wanted to go find their buddy. I picked seven good men and we went out to try to see what had happened, knowing that it probably was to no avail. We retraced the return path, made wide sweeps, found his rifle, three helmets from previous battles but no sign of him. It was apparent that the enemy had quietly ambushed him on the way back and taken him. We returned at daybreak quite weary and saddened, not only for what happened but also that it could have happened. Greater safety measures had to be implemented. Two days later the Company Commander called and told me to get my glasses and look at a particular ridge on a mountain about 2,000 yards in front of us. There was a body staked out high on the ridge with his helmet on a stick beside him. They had even taken off his fatigue jacket where his white T-shirt could be easily seen. I had never before or have never since experienced a worse display of arrogance. It was not very long before everyone saw it. We were devastated, mad as hell and appalled that members of the same human race as ourselves could do this. When I told the men that we may have to go get him, they all said “Let’s Go”. I went to Company Headquarters (HQ) to help map out attack plans knowing it would be a trap. We got word from higher up that either Regiment or Division had decided against doing it. I felt a sense of relief, as it would surely have been my last assignment. The sight of that soldiers body on display has remained in my mind to this very day.

As I said earlier, Nursery patrols went out every night, but Recon and Assault Patrols were sent out at regular intervals. These were led by officers, usually Rifle Platoon Leaders, and they probed deeper and made contact with the enemy on regular occasion. The most cherished job in a Rifle Company is that of the Weapons Platoon Leader, since he did not have to lead a patrol. This did not apply to West Point grads, as they always wanted to go on patrol and maybe get a medal for their portfolio. However, we did not have many West Pointers, since most of them went to EUCOM. Here, let me add that those I came in contact with who did come to Korea were well trained top flight officers. Some showed up with their own personal pistols and a Bowie knife stuck in their boots ready for action. However, the Division Commander, General Joseph P. “Jumping Joe” Clelland ordered all personal weapons be turned in and officers use only government issue. This did not sit well, and I still had my issued 45 and they had carbines.

I had a battle on one of my patrols on a cold night in January 1953. I was to lead an Assault Patrol and try to bring back a prisoner to determine what unit we were facing. The patrol was broken down in three parties, a reserve group, a support group and an assault group. The reserve would go out and stay at one place. The support group would follow the assault group by about 100 yards and the assault group would go to three specified areas where enemy troops were known to have been at times. A fire support plan was worked out and concentrations were plotted with the support fire which consisted of a battery 105 howitzers, and a platoon each of 4.2 inch and 81 mm mortars in the rear, our own 60 mm mortars and Ken Schaake’s 5 M26 tanks with 90 mm guns, which proved to be the best reliable support for the operation. It was a bright night and we wore our “whites” to blend in with the snow, but I felt we could be seen for miles. Communications were by radio to each group and the Company Commander. We also always had to try a telephone and lay wire from a doughnut type spool, which very seldom worked, but Battalion and Regiment always required this.

These types of patrols usually went according to plan as long as they were controlled by Company HQ, but most of the time higher authority gets involved and sends the patrol out on unplanned expeditions which they seem to dream up on the spot, such as “investigate trench on Twin Knoll”. Well, to them, Twin Knoll is a spot on the map in your area, but to you, Twin Knoll is 400 yards up the mountain with two sheer cliffs between it and your position. But I digress. We went to Check Point 1 and stayed an hour with no incident. Then we were ordered to Check Point 2. We had to cross the frozen river to get there and I was almost across and the ice gave way and I went almost up to my knees in icy water. Two other men got wet at this point. Our clothes froze from the calf down and we crinkled the rest of the way, making it somewhat difficult to use your “stealth and cunning” as they teach you at Benning. We got to Check Point 3, partially up a ridge and near known enemy positions. We arrived without incident, but in about 20 minutes the “incident” began. I saw about eight enemy soldiers on a finger about 50 yards away and heard noises above us. I reported to the CO and alerted the support group to come in when the firing started. We started crawling in the direction to the ones we could see to take advantage of some large rocks when the ones above us came toward us. We opened fire in both directions. I told Sgt. Williams of the support group to take care of the first group we saw. By that time we were surrounded by about 45 of them. My BAR man got hit but he jumped back up and started firing again. I had another man hit and had to go get him and pull him back behind a rock. I called for support concentration at Check Point 3 but howitzers and mortars were reluctant to fire because we were there. I asked for tank support and immediately got it and it was very precise and accurate. The CO insisted on the other fire support and it finally came in, however not so accurate. The support group did their job and because of the tank fire we were able to hold on and repel the attack. We were ordered to return and with the help of the support and reserve groups were able to bring back our wounded and two enemy bodies. One of our group, Pvt. Olsen of New Mexico, was dead when we got back, and probably had been all along. We had three other wounded, including PFC David Reynolds, the BAR gunner who had a very deep chest wound when a round got between the plates of his flack jacket. We killed 20 of them counted and estimated five more. We did not take a live prisoner, which was our objective, but from the enemy dead that we brought back it was determined that we were facing the 3rd Battalion, 539th Regiment of the Chinese army. PFC Reynolds and I were awarded the Silver Star at a 40th Division review later for that action. Of course Reynolds and the others were awarded the Purple Heart, albeit Olsen’s was posthumously.

There should be something higher for soldiers like Olsen and the kid mentioned earlier who was put on display in the ridge. A Purple Heart does not seem to be enough. A Lieutenant in my Company put himself in for a Purple Heart and was awarded it because an incoming round exploded near his CP and knocked over a pan of hot water from his stove and burned his leg. Somehow, it does not seem proper. Something is wrong with that picture.

To this day, I believe I am alive because of Ken Schaake’s tank support. Aggies helping Aggies again. Later on Ken and I were sent to Seoul to give a briefing to Gen. Maxwell D. Taylor on the night’s events. It was a memorial event in my life, to say the least.

A new Lieutenant reported to King Company, was assigned to another platoon and brought around to meet the other officers. I usually had the choice when a new guy arrived to move to another platoon and get out of the valley, but I could not leave the men by then. Besides who would take care of Schaake? Anyway, this guy got his commission at a Big Ten School which had demolished A&M the previous fall, which we missed due to other commitments. He was very vocal about it and smarted off to me several times about it, such as how tough they were and made a real ass of himself. His time came up to lead a patrol and they sent it out from my position, which they were prone to do sometimes because there would be little climbing to do. During the process, his patrol made contact and a firefight resulted. This was fairly normal for a patrol to get in a skirmish, but this officer hightailed it back to the lines and, of course his men followed. I met him and he was crying like a baby and really making a spectacle of himself, so I got him in my CP and he could not even tell what had happened. He kept crying and saying they were shooting at him and trying to kill him. Well-DUH!! He got more and more incoherent and finally the Company Commander had to come down the mountain to see him. They finally had to send an ambulance to take him back to the rear. I felt embarrassed and infuriated about an officer acting like that in front of his men. His punishment was to be assigned to the 40th Div. HQ. Co. as an instructor. I felt he should have been court-martialed at the very least. I had the unfortunate opportunity to run into him sometime later and he was just as obnoxious as ever. I chose not to shake his hand. So much for the tough guy.

As I previously stated, we received incoming mortar and artillery fire off and on all through the day, but one day the fire started coming in more rapidly and suddenly we were taking heavy artillery all around my CP, which always led you to think we were being softened up for an attack. I received a call from my CO and he yelled “what the hell is that jeep doing there?” I managed to crawl out and there was a jeep parked in front of the Tank CP. Somehow the driver had gotten past “Check Point Charlie: (there is always a Check Point Charlie in the military), made it all the way up the valley to the lines, which was really a breach and of course the enemy was trying to take it out. I told the CO it was at the Tank CP and he said to send someone over there and tell them to get out of there. I looked around at the four people there and decided that someone would have to be me, so I made the run over to Schaake’s CP and there was a couple of soldiers there to deliver something to him. How they got past the check point, I will never know, but I told them to get that jeep out of here as fast as it would go. They ran out and got in and took off up the valley with artillery and mortar rounds falling all around them, but somehow they made it back. They were pretty bad shots, Thank God!! It seems rather humorous now, but at the time, quite serious.

Usually the Company CO called me on the phone or radio to advise me of what was happening, but one day he called for me to come to his CP. I knew it was something out of the ordinary. He said there would be an officer from the 40th Div. G2 (Intelligence) bringing some Koreans through my position and the officer would let me know what to do and I was to cooperate fully. Well, later that night a truck came up and a Lt. asked for me and came in my CP. It turned out to be Lt. Tommy Splittgerger ’49, former Yell Leader at Texas A & M. As I mentioned several times, Aggies are everywhere. He had five Korean civilians who were going through our position and infiltrate behind enemy lines and find out as much as possible about them. They were to stay five days and on the 5th night would be returning at a specified time and yell a code word and run in as if surrendering. I had to arrange that this would take place without interference. I notified the Nursery and told them to let the guys go through, but stay alert. All went well, Tommy left and said he would be back on the 5th night. On the given night, I notified the line and patrol to let them in if they got there at a certain time and shoot them if they were later. All five came running back on schedule, I reported all was well and Tommy was about to load them up when I got a call to hold them. Battalion and Regiment wanted to interrogate them first.

I advised him and he shrugged and said this happens all the time. He made some coded calls and sat back and waited. It wasn’t long before I got a call to turn them loose. I have always wondered what sort of information they brought back. It would be interesting to talk to Tommy about it.

Back in the early 50’s, some New York judge, in his infinite wisdom, decided to give young criminals found guilty in his court the choice of going to prison for X number of years or to volunteer for Korea. Well, some of them chose the latter and I was blessed with two of them, one kid from Staten Island and one from Queens. They both had rather shady pasts, armed robbery, assault, probably everything short of murder. Over time they both told me how they got there. Fortunately, I did not find out about it until I knew them and fully appreciated them. They were both good soldiers and performed admirably under fire. I made one of them Squad Leader and the other Assistant Squad Leader in time. The men liked them and fit in well until we pulled off the line for rest. Both got drunk and got in trouble and were demoted to private within a week. Such a waste!! I understand the judge was forced to stop the unusual punishment procedure later. I don’t know, it has merits.

In time the 40th Div. was replaced by the 45th and we were sent to the rear for rest and training and would have been back up in another area in a few weeks, but we were sent to Koje Do, an island off the coast of Korea, to guard prisoners and spent the rest of my tour there. There had been a prisioner uprising and Col. Hayden L Boatner has been put in charge of quelling the riot. He had been Commandant at Texas A & M the entire time I was there. He succeeded and was promoted to General. We finished separating the prisoners into 500 man compounds and would shake them down regularly for contraband. It was rather “Cush” duty. I was Company Executive Officer by that time. My original Company Commander went home and was replaced by a West Pointer who had been General Clelands Aide de Camp and wanted some front line action. Unfortunately, I cannot remember his name, but he was a nice guy and a good officer. He rotated out and I was called to Battalion and given the opportunity of taking over the company if I would sign over for another tour, but I respectfully declined and let a Lt. Gooler go around me. The thing remember about him is that he looked and acted a lot like Lee Marvin, so I knew King Company was in good hands.

We then got orders to ship out and were replaced and loaded on LST’s and were pulling out to parts unknown when a jeep from Battalion pulled in and a Lieutenant jumped and yelled “Tell Lt. Middleton that if he can get off he can go home”. I was on top deck and rushed down to find the ramp part way up and sailors hosing it down. I ran up it and jumped in the water and waded ashore. I saw Gooler getting ready to load onto another LST, shook his hand and wished him luck, gave him my 45 pistol that had been with me the entire time, for which he was extremely grateful. I left a lot of good soldiers, good people, and had an unforgettable experience, for which I am grateful to have had the privilege to have been a part.

I was brought hone on the USS Marine Lynx and was five days out when the war ended. It was a slow boat and took 15 days to get to Seattle. This was because it was the first ship to arrive with returning soldiers since the war ended and there was a Governors convention in Seattle. Each Governor wanted to meet the ship and pick up a soldier from his state. We were held at anchor in Puget Sound for two days until these arrangements could be finalized. Even then politicians meant more than returning combat veterans anxious to return to their loved ones. I disappeared into the crowd, was processed and caught American Airlines to San Francisco then to Houston Hobby and was met by my wife and baby daughter and my Mother and Father. It is interesting to note here that the same crew (pilots, stewardesses, etc.) flew the return flight from San Francisco to Houston that had flown me from Houston to San Francisco a year earlier.

It was night when I finally got off the airplane on the tarmac at Houston and my family was allowed to meet me at the plane. Debbie, my baby daughter was interested in the ribbons on my uniform and came right to me and started reaching for them. I was a proud father.

I was later released from active duty and started a new life. GOD BLESS AMERICA!!!!!!!!!

Robert L. “Bob” Middleton
1405 Stonebridge Ct.
College Station, TX 77845-9386
(969) 696-8480 bbmidd@suddenlink.net

MEDALS AND AWARDS:
Combat Infantryman Badge, Silver Star Medal, National Defense Service Medal, Korean Service Medal w/3 Campaign Stars, United Nations Service Medal, Korean War Service Medal (issued by Republic of Korea), U.S. President Unit Citation (40th Infantry Division), Korean President Unit Citation (160th Infantry Regiment).

In November, 2013 I was awarded a Congressional Veterans Commendation by Congressman Bill Flores of the 17th U.S. Congressional District of Texas.
As a side note, In later years, I was awarded a 40% disability by the Veteran’s Administration for hearing loss as a result of the constant incoming artillery and outgoing fire, particularly from the 90mm tank guns during the time spent in the valley. This included a small monthly stipend.
March 14, 2003; Last Revision March 2018