Korea Pheasants

(K-9 Air Base, Korea)

Lou Rogers- 9 July 2006

December 24^th 1951, Kyushu - Japan’s southern most large island…

Escobedo, Love and I loaded up along with six other troops on board a C-47 Cargo Plane, destination K-9 Air Base, Korea. As the plane lifted off the Kyushu airstrip early on the morning of December 24^th 1951 I felt a little queasy, not sick in my stomach, but with an unpleasant feeling of uneasiness. I realized, as I looked into the faces of the troops surrounding me, that I was not the only one uneasy. It could have been the blinding mist engulfing the aircraft as we left the ground. It could have been the way the plane was rattling and vibrating We soon learned, it wasn’t the mist, or the vibrating -- maybe the thoughts of going to a war zone...

Less than an hour into the flight we were told of a problem the aircraft was experiencing. As I understood the problem, we had something to look forward to when we would land in Korea. Again over the loud speaker we were told that we were diverted from landing at K-9 Air Base, and instead we were to land at K-1 Air Base. A few hours later we were alerted that we were nearing the K-1 landing strip. Also, that the problem with the aircraft was in the braking system. We were instructed to lean forward as much as we could, wrap our arms around our heads, and pray. When the plane touched down on runway the malfunctioning brakes locked the wheels. With the wheels locked the heavy aircraft started sliding, seeming to turn sideways, and as we found out later, pushing up huge piles of the steel matting strips of runway. All of this forced a quick, radical stop. On stopping an exit door was quickly opened and we all left the aircraft on the run - into the hands of medics and firemen. To my knowledge, no one was injured other than bruised elbows, scrubbed knees and blacked eyes. We were very lucky. Looking back at the aircraft, I saw it was nosed into piles of heavy metal strips with black smoke billowing out from under it. Looking at the troops around me, I felt like we had witnessed a miracle. In my mind it went down as a good omen!

After the medics checked us out, we loaded into 6-by truck headed for K9, our original destination. We arrived at K-9 late in the afternoon. We were immediately instructed to gather in a tent labeled INDOCTRINATION FOR NEW ARRIVALS. Our briefing was rather blunt as too much was said in too short time, on the do’s and don’ts and the what for’s and where for’s we could expect if we wanted to stay alive long enough to complete our one year tour in Korea. Our group were all shaking our heads and wondering what was really in store. Soon as the briefing ended a young Lieutenant got our attention and ask for two volunteers for a trucking job to be done that evening. Escobedo spoke up and said, if my friend here (pointing at me) will drive, I’ll go with him riding “shotgun”. -- Escobedo, Love and I met on board the Cape Esperance Aircraft Carrier, on which we crossed the Pacific Ocean to reach Japan… As I thought about Escobedo’s boldness, I guess I frowned. He immediately said that he thought we may as well make our time here count for something… A third fellow whom we didn’t know spoke up to say he had spent a tour of duty in Korea before and was familiar with the type roads and other aspects of things- and that he would go with Escobedo and I. Well by the time this third fellow finished talking, Love spoke up with, there was no need for the third volunteer to go, as he would go with Escobedo and I…. Well we made a twelve hour trucking operation that night without any severe mishaps--- and many more trucking jobs followed as time passed slowly over the months…

April 1952…

Lousy wet, cold winter days in Korea finally got a break in April. A little sunshine was all it took to awaken the spirit in me to wanting something different…

Escobedo and Love both had birthdays only a few days apart in the coming month of May. Escobedo was turning 19, and Love, 27. I was 23. All old enough to have some sense but, still fool hardy with mischief lingering in the foremost corners of our minds. And, in the service, slack moments, which invariably happen no matter where you are in the world, cause your thinking to be riddled with, what you would like to do, not what you should do. All I thought about is, what can we do to celebrate my friend’s birthdays.

One evening after we had gone to bed, Love spoke up and said, “you guys know what a pheasants are?” Love went on to say, pheasants were those pretty colored birds we see along the roads. I said, “yah, I’ve seen them along the roads and I remember reading a story about how good they are to eat”. Then Escobedo said, “I know what pheasants are - they are big bright colored birds. Dad and I hunted them in West Texas”. Love said, “that’s right, and I saw a couple along the road the other day. Also, did you know they have lots of riot guns, shot guns over in the armory? If we can get some time off for our birthdays, maybe we can check out shotguns, and try hunting pheasants”. -Well that idea blossomed, filling our minds with something different to look forward to. In the process--I felt that monotony must be like poison to the mind. I thought that as reckless as hunting birds in Korea would be, it was alright to break the monotony. The youthful feeling of - I am invincible - was strong.

We agreed to wait for an opening of some kind before we would ask for time off. Time off was a joke. Twelve to eighteen hour work days, seven days a week was routine, and we expected no less.

Days passed slower with this grand idea of pheasant hunting on our minds. The only thing that helped the days pass, was going our different ways most of the time. The overwhelming dullness of trucking projects, being on the road daily, and sometimes nightly was wearing on the mind. I saw Escobedo occasionally as he rode with me as “shotgun” went it was ordered. Sometimes at night, all three of us would be together at bedtime as all of us three slept in the same tent if we got back to the base at night. On these occasions, we came unglued with our enthusiasium for the pheasant hunting idea.

A month went by, then another month slipped away. It’s easy to lose track of time when every day of the week is just another workday. Enthusiasium for anything could wane, and mine did.

Late one evening coming in from a long trip, I was washing my vehicle, checking the oil and the tires- getting ready to park the truck for the night, when an Airmen walked up and told me the Truck Master wanted to see me. When I finished up I headed for the dispatch shack, wondering what have I done now. My conduct in those days was never so clean that I did not tuck my tail at the probability of guilt, when the sergeant in charge ask to see me in his office.

Walking in to the office, I spotted Love and Escobedo standing there drinking, hot, steaming coffee. I was surprised! but, my conscience was still acting up. Thankfully, the Truck Master didn’t keep me in suspense. Actually, as I would have it, I got a pleasant surprise. He said, “boys, I don’t want to hear why you three want some time off, but consider it done. I’ll let you know before another week passes what day it will be.”

The day of freedom came sooner then expected…

That morning in the armory each of us ask for and received an issued of a carbine with a sling, a 12 gauge pump shotgun that held seven shells, two clips of carbine ammo and fourteen shotgun shells. We already had water canteens and a bags of spam sandwiches. You’d think we were going on a two week, African safari.

We left the Armory, checked out a jeep, and off we went, hollering at each other like little kids as we bounced around in that jeep, heading up a mountain road, to where we had no idea, to where we had never been!

In a tight run outfit, a little freedom is dangerously overdone…

Escobedo drove while Love and I set on the wheel-wells looking for birds. As we traveled along a couple miles Love spotted a cock pheasant off the side of the road about twenty feet. Escobedo stopped the jeep, and we piled out with shotguns in hand. For our hurried efforts, we scared the pheasant who took off like shot- the loud whirl of his wings was unbelievable - something I’ve always remembered. It was the first pheasant I had ever seen and it thrilled me to the bone…

Back in the jeep and up the road we went again for another mile or so. Soon smelling those spam sandwiches got our attention, so we decided to stop, eat a bite and, as Love said, gather our wits.

There we were sitting on the ground, talking and eating when we saw a young boy coming down the road towards us. About thirty feet away he stopped and seemed to be studying us. Love waved at him to come on, and while he was doing this, I took a sandwich from my bag and held it out towards the boy. The boy started talking and walked up to us, took the sandwich while bowing numerous times and talking rapidly. We, of course, didn’t understand a word. The boy gobbled the sandwich quickly, so Escobedo gave him another, which he accepted, and then stuck the sandwich in his clothes somewhere, and bowed like before.. All the while he is talking. Between us, I probably spoke the most Korean but, only very limited words. Love started trying to act out that we were hunting birds and caught the boy’s attention and understanding. He tried to show us that he would fine birds for us, and we soon thought we understood too.

In talking things over we decided to hide the jeep and walk around to find birds. But on second thought we decided one of had to stay with the jeep, and we’d take turns at doing that. We drew straws and Escobedo got the short one. Love pointed out a small hill off the road a ways and said he would walk around the left side of that hill. So I said I’d go to the right. As I walked off the boy, who I guessed about ten years old, came with me We were in a rocky area with lots of scrubby trees and huge truck size boulders, just a real junkyard of big boulders, some large as a house. As we walked around the hill the boy walked ahead of me 30 or 40 feet. He suddenly stopped, turned to me and pointed to his left. He reached down for a pebble and threw it to where he pointed --whirl-whirl as a pheasant zoomed out into the air just skimming the ground and was gone. I barely got the safety off my shotgun. More quiet walking- the hill turned out to be a long ways around. Again the boy stopped, held his hand up, listening and straining to look around a large boulder near us. He motioned for me to come, and I quietly walked up to the boy. I saw he was trembling, - trembling was so much that I felt the hair on the back of my head and up my spine rise. I glanced down to see where I was walking, and moved forward a step, stopped and looked up. There standing before me were two Korean soldiers in dark green ragged fatigue uniforms holding weapons pointed at me and this small boy beside me. My mind was racing, my carbine was slung behind my back, my shotgun was on safety - pointing at the ground, and this little boy and I, are going to die without me firing a shot… The stupidity of pheasant hunting near a war zone sledge hammered me in the gut….

My only chance at saving our lives was to throw myself down on the ground, releasing the safety as I fell -pulling the trigger..…

Then I saw Love coming from behind a rock in back of the two Koreans. Love had his shotgun to his shoulder. I guess the expression on my face changed as the two Korean soldiers, seemed to hesitate, lowering their rifles and turned and walked off into the brush and out of site. The little boy squatted and started sobbing. I quickly grabbed him, got him under my arm and on the run we returned to the jeep. We told Escobedo what happened while loading up. Hurriedly we cranked up and took off down the road. The boy soon indicated he wanted off so we stopped. From that point on we didn’t slow down until the base was in sight… We stopped at the tent where we slept, and Love said they would take the jeep back to the motor pool, and the guns to the armory. My only remark was, I don’t ever want another day off as long as I am in Korea. I need not have worried as I was never offered any time off again…

Later we reported to the Provost Marshall and I was elected to tell our story. On finishing, the Major sat there at length and stared at us. Finally, he said, “is that all?” Yes sir!. .. Then the Major said, “please don’t ever tell this story to anyone else… Now, get out of my office!

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