defense, for the rain had now knocked out even walkie-talkie contact with his platoons, leaving only runner communication with his flanks . . . and none with his rear. In the meantime his First Sergeant, Leonald Young, crawled out upon the crown of the hill with the riflemen. When he discovered that he could not see well enough to place each weapon so as to best protect the ridge, he got to his feet, completely ignoring the deluge of enemy fire, and calmly walked up and down along the crest of the hill while painstakingly placing each man of the line. He was shot. A machine-gun bullet went right through his chest, knocking him into the mud. But not before he had given Ike Fenton the best that an old sergeant could give his Company Commander. He was still alive when they dragged him in across the slope. When they placed him upon a rough poncholitter he looked up at Fenton, who stood with his hand touching the dripping canvas, and whispered, “God, I'm sorry Captain! I’m really sorry! But don't let them fall back! Please don’t let them fall back.” Fenton still had not said a word when the litter-bearers disappeared into the rain, and out of sight down the hill. Other Marines fell all along the firing-line. Some were shot through legs and thighs—and kept right on hurling grenades and firing their rifles. Others were shot through arms and shoulders and though they tried to keep fighting before being reached by the corpsmen, they were nearly useless. Some were struck in the head and instantly killed. Each time a man was hit, and other Marines in the line saw it happen, there came a cry for the corpsman, who, if not already attending another wounded man, crawled out, unarmed, upon the open face of the hill to give emergency treatment to the fallen man. Rain poured ever heavier upon those Marines still unhit, pressed upon the top of the hill, fighting for their lives. The clouds came even lower and it seemed almost like night. The North Koreans must have suffered terrible losses in their attempts to scale the frontal slope, for after their third infantry attack they fell back—and turned every weapon they had against the hilltop. Mortar bombs 84 l Ⅳ. The Hill This is War!
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy MTMyNzcxNA==