Tempered Steel

Chapter 13

Pusan, Korea was dark. For weeks a blackout had been maintained and with the new moon it was difficult to see a hand in front of your face. The harbor pilot had two tugs with them and for some reason the lights were operating on the buoys coming into the harbor. The tugs weren’t needed.

The big automobile carriers slowly made their way in toward the main piers in the port facility. The first, Morning Sky, eased up until she was at the very head of the pier before slinging the lines out to men waiting for them. The ship’s heavy hawsers were pulled down and draped over the bollards along the pier, securing the ship. Within minutes the big ramps amidships and on the stern began swinging outward and lowering to the pier. Once the ramps were down, the big doors opened and the sound of gas turbines and diesel engines could be heard.

Almost as if the great ship was vomiting them out, the vehicles from the 1st Armored Division leapt down the ramps and onto the pier. Their orders had been explicit and brief. Get to the front and report when ready. The Abrams tanks opened up the throttles and rapidly made their way down the pier, out the gate, and through the city. The second ship opened its doors and it too disgorged its armored spearhead. A cruise ship from Carnival pulled in across the pier, followed by one from Cunard. The third auto carrier came in and started offloading. Once the first echelons of tanks and Bradleys were gone, the troop transport trucks made their way out and lined up next to the cruise ships. They were rapidly filled and took off in the same direction as the M-1s and Bradleys. Interspersed with those were fueling trucks, supply trucks, assault equipment, and heavy artillery. On the next pier two LSTs extended their ramps and the Paladin artillery pieces were rolled out and moved forward. Units from Australia and New Zealand were landing in Chinhae and pushing westward. Two more cruise ships and five amphibs were left to unload. Everyone was in a hurry. They had one hour.

Kee was stopped at the tunnel checkpoint and his papers examined. The guard waved him on and he pulled the truck onto the roadway and surged through the entrance. Immediately he could feel the heat from the other trucks coming up past him. The exhaust stung his eyes and on occasion he coughed. About four minutes later he was on the level section at the bottom of the tunnel. One thing he noticed was the guards were getting pretty lax. They were often sitting in the little booths not paying any attention to the traffic going by.

He was within twenty meters of the truck in front of him and the truck behind was closer still. With the trucks that close, he doubted they would notice the pipe fall. About half way between two of the sentry stations he pulled the handle under the dash.

The ten-inch pipe fell from its holder under the side of the truck and bounced onto the side of the roadway. The release also set the pipe spinning slightly so that it rolled all the way to the side of the road. Aside from the dull ring of the pipe when it hit the road, it went unnoticed by anyone else in the tunnel.

Kee glanced at his watch. 9:47. Plenty of time to get out of the tunnel. He didn’t wonder again what he had been carrying until he cleared the tunnel and was five miles away.

The four big automobile carriers approached the port of Ulsan, the home of Hyundai Shipbuilding. Colonel Che Ju Lo had been notified that some ships were expected. He was summoned immediately and an officer sent out with the pilot boat. His instructions were specific. The ships must follow the prescribed instructions to the letter or the crews would be killed. Luckily, when the ship approached the coastline, they began signaling with their light for permission to come in the harbor. The short range radar set up at the harbor entrance had reported no other contacts, just four of the auto carriers. Che told the officer to go aboard with the pilot and make sure of the cargo, then when the ship pulled up to the pier, to tell him they were a “gift to the people.” Just in case, two tanks and four squads of men were ready to board the ships and take over if necessary. He waited anxiously on the pier.

Captain Kua Gun Doe was already queasy. The boat with the harbor pilot moved out of the relatively calm waters of the harbor and into the swells of the ocean. The thirty-foot boat rocked and rolled in the seas as they approached the big ships. The pangs of nausea were reaching at his throat and he was glad he had entered the army instead of the navy. He staggered over to the harbor pilot smoking a cigarette in the protective shelter of the small pilothouse. “How do we go aboard the ship?” he asked.

The pilot reveled at the sight of the army captain already so ill. A small light in the pilothouse was all he needed to see that the man was pale. Even his voice was cracking. He broke out in a wide grin. “They will lower a ladder for us from an opening on the side. You have climbed a ladder before?”

The captain gave the pilot a stern look. He even felt his hand move toward his pistol. Such insolence. Of course he had climbed a ladder before. But he could not let this man know his little remark had upset him. “I was wondering. I have seen some ships with some kind of steps they let down.”

The pilot nodded. “An accommodation ladder, but these ships don’t carry such things. They have these big ramps for getting the cars on and off. They only do that at piers. So we are stuck with ladders,” he said.

Satisfied, the captain stood with the pilot. The ship was indeed huge. It had slowed to allow the small boat to come alongside. They were near the giant ramp in the side and saw a door open and men come out. They were lowering something over the side. As the small boat came toward the side it looked to be about eight meters between the boat and the level where the men were. He watched as the pilot walked to the rail, extended his arms and grabbed something, swinging his feet up and then climbing up the side. That was when he saw a metal ladder made from what looked like cable or chain hanging along the side of the ship. He had never tried to climb anything like this!

The pilot reached the top and called for him to get a move on. The captain grabbed for the ladder and hung on for dear life. Unlike common ladders, this one was flexible. He tried putting his toes through the rungs, but there were only a couple of inches of clearance before hitting the hull of the ship. Then as he tried to move, the whole thing twisted and he felt his back hit the hull. Moving like some uncoordinated newborn, he finally was able to get turned back around. His toes slid out several times before he finally angled them and got his footing. Slowly, rung by rung, he made his way up until willing hands reached down and grabbed him under his arms.

“Are you alright, captain?” asked one of the sailors who helped him up.

He stood and straightened his uniform, now stained by the salt and sea growth from the side of the hull. He had to protect the dignity of the uniform. “I am fine. Take us to see your captain, immediately!” he demanded.

The sailor nodded. “Please come this way,” the sailor said.

A door was opened and the men walked into the red tinted light. The interior passage was bathed in red light to protect the sailor’s night vision, but as they went up two sets of ladders there was an opening into the main hold. There the captain saw row after row of brand new Hyundai automobiles lit by a very few overhead lamps. He took note that the cargo was exactly what it should be and continued following the sailors up to the pilothouse.

Upon arrival, the captain and the pilot shook hands warmly. “Captain, as a representative of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, I commandeer this vessel and all in it. You will proceed immediately to the pier and surrender,” he said placing his hand on his holstered pistol.

The captain looked at the man with some surprise. “Captain, my ship has been yours since we left the United States. We are Korean and offer ourselves and our services to our country,” he said. “We will of course do as you ask.”

The captain lowered his hand from the holster. It suddenly dawned on him how precarious his position was. He was alone on this vessel and if they had wanted to do something he would have been in no position to stop them, pistol or not. “Thank you, captain. Please proceed to port,” he said more amicably.

The pilot boat turned on its lights for the ship to follow. It took twenty minutes for the ship to come to the end of the pier, then another ten to ease in until positioned. The thrusters pressed the ship onto the pier where men stood by to handle the lines. Captain Kua looked down at the Colonel and his troops. The tanks stood menacingly at the end of the pier. He leaned over the rail and waved to get attention. “Colonel Che, these ships are a gift to the people,” he shouted down.

Colonel Che smiled. It had been so easy. These would make grant prizes for the state and he had been instrumental in their capture. He called back to Kua, “Have them lower something so that we may come aboard!”

He saw someone wave back. In a moment he had his response, “They will be lowering the large ramp on the side, Colonel. It will make it much easier to come aboard the ship,” Kua yelled down.

The Colonel waved and ordered his men to move toward the ramp. There was some noise as motors engaged and the restraining bolts were pulled back. The ramp slowly began to lower before them. The interior of the ship was pitch black, but a noise coming from it sounded like some high pitched turbine. It must be from the ship’s engines or something, the colonel thought. He looked on with satisfaction as the ramp extended and then settled on the pier. He thought he saw something moving.

The M-1 Abrams moved swiftly onto the ramp and down onto the pier, turning its turret and letting loose the first round. The round struck the closest North Korean tank in a catastrophic explosion sending the tank’s turret high into the air. Within a few seconds, a second shot rang out, dispatching the second Korean tank. Then the M-1 moved quickly down the pier, followed by several Bradleys. A few of the soldiers got off some shots before a Bradley opened up on the assembled men. They quickly threw down their weapons and raised their hands. The Colonel was furious and urged the men to fight, brandishing his pistol in the air until a hail of machine gun bullets peppered the pier around him. He stood in awe as the Bradley moved right in front of him. The Bushmaster gun pointed directly at his head. He dropped the pistol.

Sounds from down the pier made him notice that the second and third ships had seemingly docked. Their ramps were coming down as well. Suddenly all images of glory and honor were dashed and the man seemed to wilt away in front of his men. A figure came out from behind the Bradley and walk toward him.

“Colonel, you and your men please move next to that crane over there,” said a female voice. “You will be treated well,” she said.

“You cannot win, you know. Our forces will stop you,” he said with some determination.

He heard a chuckle. “Colonel, you couldn’t stop us before and you won’t stop us now,” she said. She turned to a person standing beside her. “Get them out of the way, then secure them on the ship,” she ordered.

“Yes, General,” came the reply as a squad of Marines rounded the prisoners up.

General Richardson crawled back in her command vehicle. “OK Marines, you have your orders. Get the units to their positions and wait for the signal. Then get the word out to kick ass and take names,” she said. On her order, the 1st Marine Division saddled up and moved out along the pier and into the city. They were followed by elements from another fighting force. This one was marching under a white flag with a rising sun in its center.

Ricks had just checked with his troops and secured their positions for the night. He rounded the side of the building and heard a noise. It sounded like a tracked vehicle; similar to the big diesels from the enemy tanks but different somehow. He walked up to Colonel Peterson standing in one doorway. He could barely make the man out. “You know what that is, sir?” he asked.

Peterson listened and then smiled in the darkness. “The sound of Heaven, Dale,” he said just as the big Bradley swerved around the corner and moved slowly to their position. The machine stopped just beside the two men and the back opened up. A Major came out and saluted. “Colonel, I’m Keith Kluger of the First. I need to know exactly where the line is and where the bad guys are,” he said quickly.

Hufham materialized out of the darkness. “Sweet,” he said. “Is it Christmas?”

Colonel Peterson, Hufham, and Ricks crawled in the back of the machine and looked at a console. It had a detailed map of the city showing exactly where they were. “The line runs along this street here. There are tanks somewhere about two streets over as far as we can hear. Our guys are arrayed all along this area here,” the Colonel said pointing out all the surrounding areas on the electronic map. The sergeant operating the system quickly entered the information. Then waited, looking at another monitor. It took almost three minutes, but exactly on schedule, a map suddenly appeared on the screens laying out one, then several, then all of the enemy positions along the line. “The satellite is up and running sir,” the sergeant said. He continued to watch as more and more information was linked together. Within five minutes all the units had been linked in.

The sound of footsteps outside were heard as troops began to arrive along the front line. They started issuing ammunition to the Americans and South Koreans who had been fighting almost barehanded for so long. Best yet, they started handing out night vision goggles to the officers and senior enlisted. The noise drew some fire from the other side of the river, but under orders, nothing was returned. Ricks looked out at the men and equipment pouring up around them. “Where did you guys come from?” he asked.

One of the sergeants handing out supplies grinned in the darkness. “Hells bells, bud, I came all the way from Brooklyn. You aren’t planning on asking me to go back are you?”

Hufham let out a laugh. “Shit, we just thought you’d never get here. It’s been a bear around here lately,” he said.

“Well, in a few minutes, those assholes are gonna think the whole world just took a shit on ‘em,” the sergeant said.

“The missiles are targeted and all show a green light.”

“Any contacts?” the Captain asked.

“None, sir.”

The Captain looked around the control room. “This is it guys. Let’s start us a war. Begin firing sequence. Launch as scheduled,” he ordered. Ten seconds later the first of the Tomahawk cruise missiles left the first launch tube and headed for its target. The second missile left the tube ten seconds later. A little over twenty-six minutes later the last missile left the tubes and the Ohio dove deep, turning south to return to Yokosuka. On the west coast, the Michigan completed her launch in the same amount of time. Somewhere out there a third was sitting and waiting. Her missiles were kept in reserve for those few that missed and any new targets that appeared.

Captain Hammond sat in Strike watching the data coming in from the satellite. Iowa’s targets had been designated by the overall commander and transferred into the ships Mk-38 gunfire control system. The old Ford Rangekeepers with their naval gunfire support attachment were already providing a gunfire solution for the guns. The Iowa, Wisconsin, and Missouri were in a line just outside the harbor. No lights were showing and the night was dark. Only night vision glasses helped keep the ships in formation. In Strike, Hammond looked at the data and gave the order. “Weaps, bring the main batteries to bear.”

On the deck, the three three-gun turrets turned outward and their barrels elevated. Inside each turret, the hydraulic lifts hoisted the 1,900-pound projectiles into the loading trays in preparation for firing. Farther below men pulled out the 110-pound powder bags and sent them through the passing scuttles from the magazines through the annular space and into the turret, where more men loaded them into the elevators that would take them to the gun house.

On the next order, the barrels were depressed to loading position and the loading trays extended to fit inside the lip of the breech. In the back of the trays, the 16-inch projectile was rammed forward onto the breech until it engaged the rifling in the gun and sealed. The rammer was retracted and a small door opened downward just above the loading tray forming a ramp between the elevated powder bags and the tray. The elevator trays were tilted and three bags were eased down the ramp onto the tray and slid forward and back allowing room for three more. The elevator lifted to reveal one additional level. This one also tilted and all six bags positioned on the loading tray. They were slowly pushed onto the breech of the gun. This happened to all nine of the 16-inch rifles on the ship. The tray was folded back and the breech closed. The barrel elevated to match the orders provided by the computers below. The whole turret moved around making sure it was exactly where it should be pointed despite any movement of the ship.

“All guns loaded, Captain,” the Weapons Officer reported. “We have received targeting for six of the Tomahawks. The data has been entered and the missiles ready. Recommend we fire just before we open with the guns.”

“Very well, permission granted.” Hammond looked at his watch. “Two minutes, Weaps,” he said with a smile. Outside, two of the armored box launchers rose to their 45-degree height exposing the missiles inside.

A movement nearby caused Hammond to glance over. A civilian sat anxiously taking some notes and watching the efforts around him. Pete Westin had been assigned to the Iowa and joined them in Guam. As a reporter for the Knight Ritter Newspapers he was one of the first to volunteer and agree to all the government’s stipulations. Upon arrival aboard the ship, Westin concentrated on getting to know the officers and men and the ship they sailed. He was a pleasant man to be around and had already written a couple of articles that were held until after the fighting started. Once that happened, the ship could resume radio transmissions via fleet broadcast.

Westin glanced over at Hammond and gave a weak smile. Clearly he was excited and nervous. In just one minute the United States would begin operations against the North Koreans. Much would depend on what happened that night. What Westin noticed was that the Captain seemed calm and in control. Hammond actually smiled at him. Westin thought of all he had heard over the past few days. This will work, he thought.

Chairman Kim was enjoying himself. He stood on the balcony outside his office and sipped some wine. The plans for the celebration tomorrow were complete and everything was in place. He always looked forward to the big parades. It always centered focus on his enlightened leadership and gave him the opportunity to entertain the masses. The extra food and drink would make them love him even more.

He finished his drink. Looking around he decided to turn in. He would need his sleep to be ready for the activities tomorrow. Kim had just walked back into his office when the sirens began to wail across the city. Three men rushed in grabbing Kim and running him out the door and into an elevator. The men dropped eight floors below the ground and opened into a stark concrete bunker. He was ushered into a small room with a cot. There he sat, not knowing what had happened or what was about to.

At the airfield near Changch'an-ni, alarms began sounding after the first of the missiles crossed over the field and disbursed its cluster munitions along half the runways. They went off in intense pops, cracking open the concrete and making gouges up to a foot deep. A second missile finished the job while others were targeted on the hangars and fuel storage facilities. The submunitions also found aircraft neatly arrayed in long lines along the side of the runway. Most of these went up in their own balls of fire. Base personnel were quick in their response, but by the time they arrived the damage was done. Aircraft were burning and the runways were unusable. To make matters worse, ground penetration munitions had found at least two of the underground fuel tanks. In those cases, the ground itself seemed to burn.

Thanks to the work of the B-1 teams that ferreted out the radar installations, over 90 percent of the radars inside North Korea were knocked out. In Pyongyang, missiles streaked down the street beside the Grand People’s Study House and Kim Il Sung Square. Again, the submunitions peppered the immaculately clean square while others slammed into government buildings and the statue to Kim Il Sung.

The naval detachment assigned to Inchon was enjoying a quiet evening until the sound of jet engines began to fill the night sky. One by one the Tomahawks came in, knocking out the radars and missile emplacements surrounding the harbor. Then, in one gigantic explosion, it seemed the entire harbor erupted as a signal triggered the detonator on every mine in the harbor. In a panic, all the sailors tried to get to the one patrol boat they had. The boat had only just begun getting underway when a hail of shells came down around them. It was high tide and steaming into the harbor came six destroyers, their guns blazing. The ships lined up and began steaming back and forth picking targets of opportunity and relaying information back to another ship.

USS Salem was standing just outside the harbor entrance. She elevated her 8-inch guns and joined in with the destroyers, hitting targets farther inland. Troops scrambled here and there, trying to get organized, but as they went to from one position to another they found it had already been destroyed either by gunfire or some kind of sabotage. Everything seemed to be exploding. The fuel farms and the coal yard began to burn. The passage into the inner harbor suddenly exploded leaving debris clogging the narrow entrance. The refineries further inland were next adding to the destruction. Slowly and methodically the horrified North Koreans watched as their world exploded and burned around them. Frantically a call went out for help. The allies were invading Inchon once again, and they would need a division of men to stop it.

The time ticked down until 2100 hours. A “go” signal flashed on the satellite screen in Strike and Hammond turned to his Weapons Officer. “Batteries released,” he said. The launch button was pressed and six Tomahawk cruise missiles lit up the night sky around the ship as they left their launchers and streaked into the sky towards targets far inside South Korea. As that happened, deep in Main Battery Plot the Gunnery Officer began the sequence pulling the warning triggers and then the firing key. Once pulled, nothing on earth could stop what was going to happen.

The big 16” guns let out a tremendous roar, followed by similar salvos from the Wisconsin and Missouri. Once the rounds were fired, the air ejectors began blowing any residuals from the breech and the guns lowered again to the loading position. The breeches were opened and the process of loading began once again. Within sixty seconds the guns fired again.

In his forward position, Hufham heard the sound of tearing linen as the huge projectiles streaked overhead and struck the ground behind the enemy lines. The earth shook beneath the men and the explosions echoed through the city streets. More projectiles poured overhead and once again the ground shook as the rounds came down in the middle of the cache of tanks being readied for a final assault. Using his night vision goggles, Hufham began seeing North Korean soldiers run back and forth, not knowing what was happening.

Then the battleship fire eased closer by 100 yards. The buildings all along the North Korean lines began coming apart as the heavy shells detonated deep inside them, blasting them from the inside out. The North Korean soldiers began to panic.

After fifteen minutes of bombardment, the shells began landing deeper into enemy-held territory. That was the signal for the armor to advance. The tanks emerged from behind the buildings and moved directly into the Korean lines. The second elements were the Bradleys moving through the cross streets and mopping up what resistance there was. The First Cav was in its element, and they were moving through the area like a comb through thin hair. Infantry units followed the others and spread out to find what was left.

Aboard the Iowa, Hammond watched the satellite screen as well as the infrared images from the RPV. When clusters of men or equipment were found, the guns were retargeted to clear it out. Within an hour the enemy had been pushed back five miles.

The same story was happening in Ulsan on the east coast and Gunsan on the west. The battleships had rushed in once the car carriers had landed and poured their fire into pre-marked positions that had been provided by SEAL teams.

In Ulsan, the army compound in the city was wiped out along with all their transportation. The First Marine Division was on the road and moving rapidly out of the big gun’s range. Additional cruise ships had landed the final troops and they were deploying like a large fan from Ulsan across the peninsula.

At Gunsan the North Korean garrison surrendered on the pier. The British commander quickly took advantage of the unopposed invasion and set off in his tanks, followed by the tanks and men of the Big Red One. The First Infantry Division had taken part in every major action since the First World War. Everyone from the top general to the lowest cook was on point and ready to roll. When the call went out, the men poured off the ships, ready for anything. Most were a little disappointed to find no opposition.

The ships were quickly unloaded and the troops pulled out heading east. With no organized opposition, the Massachusetts and the New Jersey held fire until called for. It didn’t take long. The main stockpile of tanks and fuel was found seven miles inland. The ships began firing into the compound as the troops came within three miles. By the time the first tanks arrived the entire compound was burning. To help out, the New Jersey began targeting communication lines the SEAL teams had pinpointed. Major roads were left open unless the RPV found a convoy, then it too was dispatched. Soon more transports arrived to set up the port and land the last of the troops. The Massachusetts broke off and began making her way up the coast looking for targets of opportunity. Her RPV was invaluable for spotting enemy troops, tanks, and other equipment.

In Pusan the troops began receiving heavy fire from North Korean artillery a little over 20 miles from the coast. Ground troops began calling out for gunfire support as the artillery began drawing blood. Unfortunately the American artillery was positioned in another area. Hammond saw the situation but the artillery was outside the range of the guns from where they were outside the harbor. “Get me the Navigator,” he said into the bitch box in Strike.

“Navigator here, Captain.”

“Gator can you get this ship in the harbor?”

There was only a slight pause. “Captain the harbor is deep all the way to the piers, but the entrance could be a little tricky. I’d prefer to have a pilot,” he said.

“So would I, but our guys are taking a pounding from a place just outside our range. If I can get in the harbor, we might just be able to hit it. Do you think you can get me in there?”

On the bridge, all eyes were on the Navigator as he looked at the chart. He made a measurement. Jones looked at the chart and scratched his head. “Captain, let’s go. I can get you in, but you’ll only have about 1,000 yards to play with.”

Hammond looked over at Admiral Thacke sitting next to him. “I can take care of business,” he said.

Thacke nodded. “Detach and proceed as desired. Kick some ass, Roger.”

Hammond pressed the button on the bitch box. “Give the course to the OOD. On the way in have sigs flash the harbor and get us some tugs to meet us. Then get the First Lieutenant and have his people ready to anchor. Got that?”

“Done, Captain,” said the Navigator. He turned to the bridge watch and the XO. “Friends, our captain has more balls than I have. You heard him.” He turned and alerted the navigation team. This was going to be hairy.

The XO took the deck and the conn, altering course and pointing the bow toward the harbor. Speed was increased to fifteen knots to expedite the maneuver. In ten minutes the ship slowed and rounded the concrete breakwater at the harbor entrance. Two large tugs met the ship and a pilot scrambled aboard. He ran to the bridge.

“You need pilot to go in harbor!” he almost shouted.

The XO glared at the man in the dark. “Sir, are you going to yell or help us in. I still have to get past one more breakwater before I get where I need to go and it’s just 4,000 yards ahead.”

“Where you going?”

“Right in the middle of the inner harbor. I intend to anchor here and I need to have your tugs keep us pointed in this direction,” he said pointing at the chart.

“Why there?” the pilot asked. Obviously he didn’t understand there was a war on.

“To get in range to shoot the enemy!” the XO almost yelled.

Behind them, the navigation team was calling out the ship’s position. At ten knots, they were almost there.

After blinking a moment the pilot looked over at the radar picture. “Steer 300,” he ordered. The XO relayed the order and the helmsman changed course slightly.

On the bow of the ship, Boats Patnaude had his guys knock all but the last chain stop loose. The crew set the brake and waited. The sound of distant gunfire was heard above the usual ship sounds they had grown accustomed to hearing. On the deck the XO could occasionally see the flash of a red light as the men attended to their duties. Things seemed to happen quickly now as the ship neared the last hurdle in the channel. A single concrete breakwater sat just at the closest point. They had been lucky that the usual small craft that used the harbor were no longer there. It could have been difficult at best.

“All engines ahead one third,” the XO ordered. His orders were relayed and repeated along with small course changes the pilot made as they finally entered the inner harbor. The ship eased the last few hundred yards to the point the XO wanted. “All engines back two thirds,” he ordered. Glancing up at the RPM indicators for the shafts, he saw that the shafts suddenly ceased their forward turns and began going in reverse. The pit log showed the ship coming to a stop. “Stand by the anchor.”

On the bow, the brake was released and a bos’n’s mate stood by to trip the latch on the stopper. The XO watched as the ship made just a slight amount of sternway. “All stop. Let go the anchor!” he shouted through the window. He watched as the big bos’n swung the sledge hammer, striking the latch and releasing the stopper. The heavy anchor dropped into the water and its chain began to rapidly clatter out of the chain locker, around the windless and through the hawse hole. Using a red flashlight the men watched for the painted links that told them how much chain had gone out. When the prescribed length was reached, the brake was applied and the chain stopped again. After another few fathoms had been released through the anchor windless everything stopped and the stoppers were reapplied.

By now the pilot had the two tugs at the rear of the ship ready to hold her in place. “Navigator, get an exact position and feed it down to the Captain,” the XO said.

In Strike, the CO received the position information and they determined the bearing and range to the artillery site. It was twenty-three miles away. Hammond looked over at the Operations officer. “Ops lets see if we can hit it a few times,” he said. The bearing and range information was passed to Main Battery Plot. In less than a minute the guns elevated nearly to their full forty-five degrees.

On deck, Boats Patnaude saw the guns rise. “You cocksuckers better cover your ears, we’re shootin’,” he yelled. The men pulled on their “Mickey Mouse” ear protection — large ear cups that effectively deadened the sound. The men wore ear plugs at the same time. Upon the Captain’s order the guns fired once again.

The concussion from the guns actually broke glass in the buildings surrounding the waterfront. The men on deck could clearly be seen in the flash of flame as the guns recoiled. The loading sequence was immediately started and the guns fired again. Boats kept an eye on the anchor chain and watched it slowly pull toward the direction of fire. On the bridge, the pilot and XO watched the gyro compass and had the tugs keep the stern from swinging around. A third salvo left the guns.

Twenty-three miles away the North Korean artillery commander thought he had placed his equipment far enough away to prevent them from being hit. His father told him about the times he fought in the first conflict, and only one kind of ship could shoot that far. He remembered something about the big ships being able to shoot twenty miles, but those ships weren’t around anymore. Well, at least they weren’t getting bombed, although he faintly heard the sound of something flying around up there.

He ordered his men to shift fire to another hot spot when he heard the sound of incoming shells. The first landed 100 yards away, sending dirt high into the air, covering his men as they tried to load their weapons. The second salvo actually passed overhead landing in some trees. The trees acted as if they had been attacked by a buzz saw. Wood splinters sailed through the air cutting through men like shrapnel. All around him people screamed and writhed in agony as the jagged splinters ripped into them. Mercifully, the third salvo landed directly along the main line of guns. More would come, but he and his men didn’t hear them. His last thought was to wonder at the guns he saw being flung into the air.

Another act from the opening salvo of the war occurred along the former DMZ. After the Tomahawks eliminated the search and fire control radars along the coasts, two B-1 bombers entered Korean airspace and loitered near the tunnels. One was north of the DMZ, the second south. Upon initiation, the bombers dropped two Mk-84 bombs fitted with a GBU-15 electro-optical guidance system on each of four small tunnels. The bombers then made their way south while still receiving the images from each missile.

Upon opening their bomb bays, the aircraft presented a much bigger target, but no radar in the vicinity was turned on. It didn’t matter. The previous air raid had forced the tunnel crews to close their doors to protect them from blasts. Unfortunately, the Vietnam era Mk-84 bomb was a 2,000 pound weapon that could penetrate up to fifteen inches of steel. The one-half-inch thick plates on the doors would prevent bullets, but not this. Inside the bombers the infrared picture clearly outlined the cool steel doors from the warmer concrete and dirt. The electro-optical sensors homed in on the difference in temperature. Both struck within five feet of each other, penetrating the doors and then detonating their Tritonal high explosive a good ten feet under the surface of the road inside. The effect was catastrophic. The bombs opened a crater that was wider than the tunnel itself causing the sides of the tunnel for fifty feet to collapse. In addition, the blast along the tunnel ceiling fractured the rock above causing it to fall as well. The shockwaves traveled down the shaft, breaking down supports and the concrete shoring. In all over 100 yards of the weakly reinforced tunnels collapsed on both ends, crushing trucks and drivers at the ends of the tunnels while trapping those in the center.

The remaining tunnel had been built to act as a temporary aircraft storage and troop shelter in case the United States used weapons of mass destruction. The entrances and the tunnel walls were heavily reinforced to act as a nuclear shelter. Additional ventilation was added and the facility designed to withstand any kind of air drop, from bombers or ICBMs. Like the other tunnels, there were heavy doors on each end. In this case, the doors were over one-foot thick and swung inward when not in use. When the air raid sounded, the traffic stopped in the tunnel and the huge doors swung closed and locked shut. A second set of doors rolled into place behind those forming an air tight seal.

The truckers turned off their engines and began walking around in the lighted tunnel. Many lit up cigarettes and shared a few moments with other truck drivers secure in the knowledge that they would be safe from anything the Americans would throw at them. The guards and sentries were smiling and urging everyone to relax and remain calm. Everyone was certain the raid would be over soon. If not, they had enough supplies to keep them alive for weeks.

One of the drivers decided to take this time to check out a smell he had been noticing coming from his engine. He climbed down from the cab and pulled open the hood. It was hard to tell where it might be coming from since the engine was filthy and there was oil and grease caked everywhere. Looking under the valve cover, he noticed that oil was dripping out of a small crack onto an exhaust pipe. Grunting to himself, he grabbed a rag and wiped it clean, then used a tube of sealer to cover the crack. It was a standard thing he had been forced to do since there were never any spare parts. A driver had to be inventive in his repairs.

“Problems?” asked one of the post sentries with a smile.

“No. I had a small oil leak but I fixed it. I smelled it through the vents all the way here,” he said to the sentry. “At least I won’t have to smell it the rest of the way,” he said.

Satisfied the problem was solved, he wiped the surface one more time, then closed the hood. As he was getting down he noticed a section of black pipe resting against the side of the tunnel road. It looked like the kind of pipe used when putting up a building. The black sealer had been marred where the pipe had fallen and scraped along the roadbed. “Looks like somebody lost something,” he said walking over to the pipe.

The guard looked over that way and waved it off. “We get things falling off trucks all the time. Had a whole load come loose a couple of weeks ago. Took forever to clean up,” he said nonchalantly.

The driver looked at the pipe. “I’ll put it in the truck and take it with me. Maybe one of the Army units can use it,” he said. The man reached down and tried to lift the pipe. It was heavy — far heavier than a pipe should be. Curious, he took one end and lifted it up. Wasn’t a pipe supposed to be hollow, he wondered?

A split second later the driver, the guard, the truck and everything within 1,000 yards of the pipe was vaporized. The temperature went from a normal 80 degrees to the temperature of the sun and turning everything, from the steel in the trucks, the concrete and the rock surrounding the tunnel into a white-hot molten mass. Great gouts of escaping air shot out of several places in the mountain. The huge steel doors at first contained the blast. But they had been designed to withstand something exploding over them, not coming from within the tunnel itself. The containment within the tunnel magnified the blast effect, and the doors could not contain the dynamic onslaught. Both ends blew outward as the doors were ripped from their hinges and flung over a mile away. Smoke and heat radiated from the entrances, and molten rock and steel spewed out of the tunnel like a volcano into the forest on both sides, setting the trees on fire and flinging more debris far away from the tunnel entrances. People within two miles of either entrance were thrown from their feet as if there had been a tremendous earthquake. At the same time, the mountain itself appeared to lift from its base and collapse downward as if something had lifted it six or seven feet and dropped it. Suddenly the blast ceased as the molten center began to cool and the mountain began filling in the void of the explosion.

Crews hurried to get to the entrance to find out what happened, but there were no traces of any entrance — only a road that appeared to stop along the side of the hill. Even the loose dirt and what scrub that wasn’t burning looked like it hadn’t been disturbed.

In a small radio station set up by the Armed Forces Radio and Television Service, several reporters watched as a shortwave transmitter was set up to broadcast a live signal to the world. Only one man had been selected and approved for a live broadcast. His material had general approval and he would be operating with a five-second delay so that it could be stopped if necessary. Strangely, no one seemed to think there would be any problems. The script was in hand and seemed perfect.

The reporter was a fairly young man in his mid-twenties. His face was long and his dark hair was already receding. But he had the look of someone with experience far beyond his years. He was a professional and it showed. As the sound of the naval gunfire could be heard through the walls, the engineers powered up the system and prepared to broadcast. Preliminary messages were sent and replied to. Someone brought out an old RCA 77 ribbon microphone and stuck it in front of the man, who laughed and thanked the technician. The hands on the clock came to 10:30 and the technician pointed to him.

“This is Pusan, Jason Murrow reporting. The people of this city are rejoicing tonight. For months they and the people of South Korea have held out against the determined forces of North Korea. Yard, by exhausting yard they have fought, not giving up one inch of ground without a struggle. Yet the North Koreans, with their army of over a million strong, have pushed these people back until only a small toehold of their country remains.

“Still they fight on. These are a proud and determined people. Once before they fought against the oppressors from the North. Then too, with the help of the United Nations and primarily from the Americans, they were able to win back their cherished freedom. They have proven to be an industrious and freedom loving people who understood their responsibilities as a nation and lived in peace.

“Yet after decades of coexistence, the North saw fit to try and take away the freedoms these people had fought so hard to earn. To accomplish their goals, the North Koreans struck out against not only neighboring countries such as Japan and the Philippines, but took their vengeance out against the United States as well, unleashing weapons of mass destruction upon the people. Since that time, the South Koreans have fought hard. They have vowed to never give up their fight for the freedom they love. They and their American allies have come together once again to hold out as long as possible until the forces of freedom could be brought to bear.

“And tonight the people of Pusan and all of South Korea rejoice. The sounds you hear behind me are the guns of American battleships sending their own forms of destruction against the enemy. Tonight, the United States and her allies have returned to Korea. Even now, the forces of freedom are engaging the enemy — pressing them back across the lands they thought they had conquered. For it seems the North Koreans have made the same mistake that other tyrants have made in the past. They underestimated the United States and what its citizens could do. They thought we would be crippled and unable to respond. But history shows that it is under these circumstances that Americans are at their best.

“In some ways it is almost a continuation of the Korean Conflict of the 1950s. The old weapons are still around. The very battleships of that era are even now pounding away at them. Yet newer weapons are also here. American Abrams tanks and Bradley fighting vehicles have been landed and have taken their fight to the enemy. I have been told that the entire might of the United States is coming to bear on this place at this time.

“But most of all, the South Koreans are celebrating because once again, they have realized they are not alone. The Americans are not the only ones coming ashore tonight. Forces arrayed against the North Koreans include the European Union, Turkey, Greece, Japan, the Philippines, New Zealand, Australia, India, and other nations. All have joined together to ensure the freedom of the Korean people and end the nuclear threat of the North.

“I am certain the lights will be burning late in Pyongyang tonight.

“Many years ago during another conflict one of my family members sat at a microphone very similar to this one. He vowed to report the news as best he could, fairly and unbiased. During that time, he reported on the people and the events that surrounded him and never gave up on his convictions that his job was to report the news, not create it. To this end I will attempt to carry on those same convictions. I and my colleagues will report the news as best we can and as honestly as we can. You in the United States and the rest of the world deserve no less.

“This is Jason Murrow, reporting from Pusan, South Korea. Good night, and good luck.”

Charlie Sheppard sat on his porch listening to the broadcast. An announcement had been in the paper that an address would begin at eleven. He was one of the few on his street who had a radio and he was surrounded by his neighbors and friends. Sheppard was over 90 years old and remembered the broadcasts of Edward R. Murrow and the events of the last conflict. Tears were in his eyes. “Well I’ll be damned!” he exclaimed.

“It’s about time,” one neighbor said. Several nodded.

“So it was the North Koreans who did this to us,” said another. “Why weren’t we told?” she asked as the others started talking.

Sheppard shushed them all down as the radio announcer came back on announcing the President.

“My fellow Americans. Many of you have been wondering what our country has been doing to find out not only who attacked us, but what we were going to do in Korea. Now you know that the North Koreans not only attacked their neighbors in the South, but were responsible for the attacks launched against us as well. We have known this for over four months, but we have kept this close so we could make our preparations without them becoming aware of what we were doing or planning. I am sorry we kept this from you, but that didn’t stop us from doing what we had to do.

“As you just heard, tonight the United States and its allies launched an invasion of Korea. I won’t go into much detail simply because we still do not want our enemies to know who or what has been lined up against them. I will say that our troops are already engaging the enemy. We are going to win this conflict. We will win it for the people of Memphis and Dallas. We will win it for all the people of the free world. But we will win.

“In the past four months we have drawn together on the expertise of our armed forces, business, and industry to build a fighting force unmatched since World War II. Some of it is what you would expect to see from our armed forces — modern tanks and planes and weapons. But you are also going to see some things unconventional as well. On recommendation of several trusted advisors, the United States has recommissioned a number of older ships that can continue attacks if and when the North Koreans should use any more nuclear missiles like they did on us. And yes, they include battleships. I am proud to say there are currently seven battleships off Korea. These include the North Carolina, Alabama, Massachusetts, Iowa, New Jersey, Missouri, and Wisconsin. I have already received word that their firepower is turning the enemy back.

“We also received a number of ships back from countries that had purchased or leased ships from us. These include destroyers, and frigates to escort these capital ships. We recommissioned several older cruisers and a number of other assets that we will use against our enemies. For now, let’s let them worry about what assets we have and where they are.

“As you heard, we have formed a coalition of nations to carry out our mission. Tomorrow I will address the General Assembly in the United Nations and lay out our case before them. We will ask for their approval and the approval of the Security Council, but no matter what they decide, we will continue our mission.

“I want to thank everyone who has been on this team. When this happened, I reached out to our political leadership, our business leaders and industrialists, the media, even our farmers, everyone in our nation who might be able to get us back on our feet. As a result, we still have food on the tables. Our phones are working, our cars are returning to the roads, our radios and televisions are slowly coming back to life. America is alive and breathing. In the midst of all this we also pulled together to return the aggression that was inflicted upon us. This has been a monumental effort, and trust me when I say we owe a great deal to a very few people who picked up the yoke and kept going.

“I will let you know now that I will not be passing along information about the war as some have done in the past. We are going to keep our secrets to ourselves and not give the enemy any breaks. You will know when things happen, but we will keep numbers or capacity to ourselves. In time I promise to withhold nothing. You will eventually know everything that happened, but we will give nothing to our enemies that may benefit them. Please bear with me on this.

“I want to thank each and every American for your own efforts to bring our nation back. I want to thank you for your support and your kind words during this crisis. America is on its feet. We have now raised our fist to our enemies. We will not be knocked down again.”

Sheppard blew his nose. “That’s the best news I heard all year. It’s about time we stopped airing our dirty laundry every time some news reporter decided he had a sensational story,” he said angrily.

“Damn right. Now that I know what’s going on, I’m okay with it. I’m just glad we’re doing something about all this,” one neighbor said.

“They brought back the battleships. I actually went aboard one back in ‘89. Those guns were big as hell. I know I wouldn’t want one shootin’ at me,” said another.

“Yeah, but I bet it cost us a fortune. Every time we start paying off the debt we end up going right back in,” said one lady. She had a reputation of being a tree hugger.

“True,” said Sheppard, “but in this case it’s well worth it. We can’t stand up as a nation of we let others push us around. We’ve seen what it did in some places.”

“Humph,” she grunted. “Just more killing and more pollution. What does it do for us?”

It got quiet. Sheppard leaned forward. “Nancy, it’s the price to pay for the death of 1.7 million Americans,” he said. “I know you have your causes. I know you care for them, but it all means nothing if we are not free to choose. Sometimes people forget that if people like the North Koreans took over you wouldn’t be free to advocate for your causes. They could care less about pollution, the forests, the whales, or anything else. They have shown us that time and again. Now they have shown us they don’t care for human life either. Well, I value human life above all else. Sure, I value nature and all that as well, but nothing comes before human life. So this time, I approve of what’s being done. If it takes all I have and everything we own to get the job done, I’m ready to do it. Because our lives and our way of living are well worth it,” he said. Sheppard sat back in his chair.

The woman looked down at her feet, obviously ashamed. She wasn’t a bad person, but she somehow missed that, after the EMP attack, people had changed.

The radio had returned to music, so Sheppard turned it off. “Well, I feel like walking to the café. Suddenly I feel like a burger and fries,” Sheppard said. “Care to join me Nancy?”

The lady smiled at him and nodded.

“Come on, let’s all go. We’ll have us a party,” Sheppard said. Several of the neighbors nodded and started walking along with him. Along the way, they were joined by others. It ended up being the biggest block party many could remember.

The People’s Army headquarters was becoming very active. Military leaders poured in trying to assess the damage and to figure out what was happening. Normal electricity in the city was cut, so the emergency generators were keeping the lights burning. Lu Chen burst into the war room yelling orders and in general being a nuisance. The military leadership was for the most part ignoring him.

The Air Force Commander was trying to explain things to him. “The attacks on the city came from the sea, Comrade Minister. Our radar systems gained contact only ten miles away. It was not enough time to react. Then when the radars were destroyed we could no longer determine what the targets were. I have received telephone communications stating attacks were on both coasts. We still do not know the extent of the damage.”

Lu Chen was livid. “And who carried out these attacks?” he demanded. “You and our illustrious intelligence system told us there was no country with the ability to hurt us! I should have you all marched out and shot as traitors to the state!”

The general blanched at the outburst. This man had that kind of power. He had to help the Minister understand. “That we do not know, Comrade Minister. I agree that our intelligence system gave us no warning of any impending attack. My own analysis indicates these were cruise missiles that were deployed against us. We know our Communist brothers in the People’s Republic of China did not do this. The only other nation with such capability in this part of the world is Japan or possibly Taiwan. We know Japan was rendered harmless in the same manner as the United States. Taiwan is 1,000 miles away and we do not believe she has such capabilities. Australia and New Zealand have such capabilities, but they are in the southern hemisphere. The only possible explanation is that the United States was able to retrieve a limited amount of cruise missiles from Europe or the Middle East and used them on us. Even then, we do not know how they were delivered. Their missiles have a 1,500 mile range. It is possible they launched them from Taiwan and Japan. If that is the case, there would be nothing we could do to prevent such an attack. As you recall, Comrade Minister, your office has been calling on updating those coastal defense radar systems for several years now to combat just such an attack,” he said.

Lu Chen leaned against the table on his hands. The General made sense. Everything he had said was true and logical, but that would not placate the political arm of the Party. He needed answers and someone to point a finger at. “Tell me what you know so far,” he growled at the men around the table.

Another general spoke up. “All but two of our coastal radar sites have reported damage. Those two are both in what was South Korea. We have six portable units that I have sent to key locations around the major facilities. They should be online some time tomorrow. The antiaircraft batteries were also hit with similar results. More units are already ordered out. Fortunately some of the batteries can be repaired,” he said, hoping that his quick actions would forestall the Minister’s wrath.

“Is that all?” the Minister demanded. If it was only radars and missiles things may be alright.

“Unfortunately it is not, Comrade Minister. All of our airfields have been attacked along with our naval installations. We have not been able to establish contact with most of them so I do not know how much damage. However, we did intercept a frantic call from the garrison in Inchon. It appears there are ships shelling all of the facilities. The commander reported the mines in the harbor exploded and the shelling has continued. He reports that he needs reinforcements against a possible invasion there.”

“Send them immediately! Have you forgotten that is the way they did it before? Do I have to make all the decisions?” Lu Chen shouted.

“It will mean further drawing down the troops within our borders, Comrade. We may have to leave some areas with little internal security,” another general said shyly.

“There is a war on! Our troops must respond to the threats to our nation. We can’t just let them walk in! Get at least … at least 20,000 troops in there immediately!” the Minister said.

“Yes, sir,” the general shouted. There was nothing else he could say.

The next morning began bright and sunny in Pusan. The sun cast a bright yellow glow across the waterfront. People began emerging from their homes and shelters and seeing what happened the night before. Many made their way down to the waterfront where they heard the gunfire. To their surprise, as they neared the harbor, many panes of glass in the buildings were shattered. Upon closer inspection, nothing had been broken into, the glass was simply broken.

Along the main thoroughfare, trucks were making their way from the piers through the city. They were all green with American Army markings and traveling rapidly along the road. In the distance, the sound of gunfire could be heard, but it didn’t seem as loud as it had been recently. Occasionally one of the American Humvees passed along the road. The occupants waved at the people as they drove past. After the past week of constant gunfire and shelling, the atmosphere seemed almost surreal.

The quiet was interrupted by the sound of music. People looked around at each other wondering where the music was coming from as it echoed through the buildings. It wasn’t Korean, but sounded like American rock music. Many began following the sound leading toward the harbor. Rounding some of the office buildings they found the source.

The waterfront was filled with people watching and listening. There, in the middle of the harbor was an American battleship. There was activity along her decks and on her bow, but the music was coming from a small group of men playing guitars and instruments on deck beside one of the big guns.

The old Doobie Brothers’ song struck out across the water and through the city. It was happy. It was hopeful. It was fun. It didn’t take long before people along the water’s edge began to clap along with the music and some even started to dance. The group on the ship kept playing the song, doing it over a couple of times before it ended. By then the crowds had built and spread almost across the waterfront. They noticed the big containerships moored against the piers unloading materials into the army trucks. Even there, some of the people were moving to the rhythm of the songs.

Something had changed in the night. The people knew there had been a battle of some sort, but even the feeling around the city had changed. As the music played the mood was changing. People were looking forward to the day. They began thinking about tomorrow and the next day and not worrying about what might happen. People began seeking out their friends and sharing the moment. Sure, there was much to do, but somehow, that didn’t seem so important. People began to sing along now.

The song changed. It was another upbeat song. Most people didn’t understand the words to “China Grove,” but that didn’t make any difference. It was more fun. They could see the men on the ship. They were dancing along with the people on the shore. Even though a war was raging not far from where they stood, the people threw away all of the uneasiness and fear and celebrated. Song after song had the people dancing and cheering.

As the music played the anchor was slowly raised on the big ship. Tugs positioned themselves on the bow and began pushing the ship around so that it pointed toward the open sea. It slowly moved away from the city; the music getting softer as it did. Many of the people didn’t leave until the ship was out of sight and the port was again silent. It had been the first respite the people had since the war began, and they returned home with a new more positive feeling. South Korea would survive. Now it was up to them to rebuild it.

Kim Sung Nua sat at the table in a rage. Seated around him were a number of military officers called in to decide how to fix the problems their former military leaders allowed to happen. Seated next to him was his nephew, Hua Te Nua. Already the names were being changed on the records stating that Lu Chen was no longer the Defense Minister. The former military commanders had suffered from either illness or had died in battle. All of that had happened one hour before in one mass ceremony in the courtyard of a local military post. Now Kim was going to direct the war from Pyongyang.

The new Air Force commander was giving his report. “Our losses were extensive; however, crews are working to ready our aircraft for service. As of this morning’s report, we have ten MIG-29s, three MIG-23s, fifty-two MIG-21s and F-7s, twenty F-6s, and another thirty MIG-17s. On the attack side we have three SU-7s, twelve Q-5s, and another five SU-25s. In our fighter and attack aircraft we lost 398 of our first line aircraft. We lost another 200 training aircraft and over half our helicopter force. To counter this, I have ordered the H-5 bombers brought back into service. This will give us another fifty or more bombers. I have also instructed that our training aircraft be fitted for carrying bombs. Fortunately, our transport aircraft were located at commercial airports, so were spared. In all, we will still have a formidable air force. We are transporting our aircraft to the civilian sites since all of my military airfields are now unusable. We should be ready in two days. The fuel and ammunition situation is critical. We lost nearly fifty percent of our fuel reserves and one-third of our ammunition. This will not prevent us from making attacks; however, we will have some difficulties with sustained operations.”

“So you are saying we have the capability to attack the Americans?” asked Kim.

“Yes, Comrade Chairman. We will be fully ready tomorrow afternoon and can begin making limited strikes this evening. This is giving us time to get the planes to their new airfields where they can take off and land safely,” the Air Force Officer said.

“Then I do not want a minute wasted. As soon as a unit can get in the air, I want them up and attacking where they can,” said the Chairman. He turned to the Army. “What about our ground forces?”

“As commanded, we have begun moving 20,000 troops to the Inchon area to counter the invasion. Another 100,000 are being rounded up for reinforcements. Between these two forces, there should be ample troops to push them back. I would suggest we have some of those air force fighters shifted to go after the naval units as they try and come in to the beach. It would kill many of the enemy soldiers on the ocean instead of on the ground,” the general said nervously.

“That is a good idea,” said Kim. “Coordinate your efforts and remember that the tides work with us on any invasion of Inchon. Exploit it to the fullest,” he said.

The two men nodded and the General continued. “With communications disrupted, I know there was some sort of landing last night in Pusan. Our troops and equipment were shelled up to 24 miles away from the port. A massive breakthrough by the allied forces has pressed us back thirty miles as of this morning. However, our forces are mobilizing and the lines are firming up. The Americans landed some armor and some troops; however, our intelligence sources have not indicated that this could be anything but a stop gap measure. I should have firm information from the front as soon as the communications lines are reestablished. Until then, my orders are to hold fast and not give another inch to the Americans.”

Kim nodded. That was the proper order. He didn’t want to delay his victory too long. The Americans would have to reinforce the Pusan area to try and stop them. The loss of ground was unexpected, but such was war. They still had the upper hand. He turned to another officer, “Naval Forces?” he asked.

The admiral was tall and thin. His uniform hung on him like an adult suit on a child. He beamed at the Chairman. “No naval losses. I have ordered our ships to deploy tonight to harass the enemy and to carry out lightning raids on any units encountered,” he nearly shouted.

Kim beamed. At least someone was still ready. “Why are you waiting until tonight?”

“Since we lost our air capability temporarily, it would give our ships a better chance to escape observation and attack with some surprise. Since our forces may be outnumbered, it would be best to initiate a set of quick, decisive attacks to disrupt their shipping or to harass troops. The plan is to sortie from our bases and dash to Inchon and try and hit any transports they have there. If they have landed some troops, we can also launch attacks from the rear. Then we will dash back to our bases to refuel and resupply,” the admiral said as he pointed to the areas on the chart. “On the eastern coast we shall sortie the ships and patrol boats to the south and attempt an early morning raid on the Pusan area. In the resulting confusion we shall get as many ships and men back as possible. Our aim will be to cause any temporary efforts to be slowed or thwarted by having to reinforce facilities around Pusan,” he said. No further elaboration was needed. Everyone in the room knew that more than likely these ships and men wouldn’t be coming back home.

Kim nodded in approval. “I approve the plan. Do whatever you can to stop this incursion,” he said to the admiral. “Now what about our strategic reserves?” he asked turning to the new Minister of Defense.

Hua passed over some papers. “We lost a great deal of fuel and munitions. Our overall oil supplies are down by one-third and our munitions have been depleted by forty-eight percent. Much of this was due to the ineptitude of the former Defense Minister,” he snarled. “We can continue on. Our oil supplies will be increased from the People’s Republic. I have already sent someone to negotiate this. The munitions are a different matter. Last night all of our above ground major munitions works were attacked by air. With the exception of the underground factories, we have less than half the capability of manufacturing our own arms. This means a major expense to get these arms from our brothers in the People’s Republic. Unlike the oil which can come by pipeline, our arms must be manufactured first. This will mean a delay. My office is already in touch with the Russians, India, and the People’s Republic to purchase what is necessary. We will also need the transportation to import them,” he said.

“What about the food supplies, Comrade Minister?” asked the Minister of Agriculture. “Our reserves in the underground facilities are already being used. We had cut back our imports to bare minimum because of the need for our trucks. If you must have more for ammunition, people will be starving,” he said.

“They can eat after the war!” shouted Kim, slamming his fist on the table. “The first priority is our troops and our mission. The people can make do until then.”

The men at the table grew silent. After the recent example of Kim’s patience, none desired to incur his wrath.

“The other problem we have encountered is that all of the tunnels crossing under the former border are now closed. They were all attacked last night. My engineers are looking at each of them to see if they can be salvaged. Until then, we will have to transport our supplies along the roads,” he said. “We will have to make sure they are not harassed as they cross over,” he said looking at the Air Force general.

Kim was looking at his watch. The local party officials were going to brief him in a few minutes. He would leave the details to these men and hope they were better than the last. “Continue the meeting until all the plans are made, then brief me this afternoon on your initiatives,” he said formally. Everyone rose when he stood and they remained standing until he left the room. No one showed any sign of relief. Hua was there and would tell his uncle everything. The men sat down and continued. The plans were drafted and approved. Hua then warned them of the seriousness of not sticking to the plan.

Hufham couldn’t believe what was happening. Lt. Colonel Peterson selected him and Ricks to provide information about the routes and strong points along the way north. Seated in a Bradley, they took the column along the same roads they had retreated across only days and weeks before. Abrams tanks led the way. Once breaking through the lines, the armored vehicles opened up the throttles and sprinted almost unopposed. As the lead tanks entered a town, they fanned out to secure the area, and then the trucks and troops entered and set up. The rest moved forward again to the next town. Any opposition was quickly dispatched and the men moved on.

By 10 am the column was forty miles from the old lines around Pusan. Hufham and Ricks led them through two provinces before they were ordered to stop and regroup. No one expected the move to be made that rapidly. The troops were behind the tanks, but it took time to secure an area properly and they were not planning on giving the real estate back again soon. The strike screen in the Bradley showed that stronger opposition lay to the west and some other friendly troops were getting closer from the east.

The major on the Bradley turned to Lt. Colonel Peterson while pointing at his tactical display. “Sir, we are ordered to hold here in Chilgok and refuel. These guys coming from east of us will join up within the hour. We haven’t heard anything yet, but I would guess we will head west and secure this hot spot,” he said pointing to a place on the map. “While we’re stopped, you and your guys might as well get out and stretch your legs.” The major flipped a switch and the rear door opened.

Peterson led the way out of the vehicle just as the refueling truck pulled up. As the crew shut down the engine and scrambled around to get their fuel, the three men walked around the small town square. “When did we leave here? Was it a month ago?” asked Hufham.

Ricks looked around and noticed a few places that stood out in his mind. “Something like that,” he said pointing to one pockmarked corner. “That was where Preston caught one in the leg. Had to drag him for hours,” he said almost in a sigh. He pointed to another place. “Didn’t we take out a tank just over there?” he asked.

“You know, I think you’re right,” Peterson said. The men walked around the corner and came upon the burned out hulk of a T-34. The scars of battle were all over it. The tracks were separated, the engine compartment burned out and the interior was black with soot. “I still can’t believe you crawled up and threw that cocktail down in there,” Peterson said.

“Got tired of the thing killing my people,” Ricks replied. “When we shot off the track, that damned gun just kept shooting. I had to do something.”

Peterson shook his head. “Between you acting like a one man M-1 and Hufham here going after gun positions with that rifle, I may end up worrying myself into a nut house. At least you guys keep things interesting,” he chuckled.

“Maybe next time we’ll try the POW route,” Hufham smiled. He threw up his hands. “Take me to your leader,” he said suppressing a laugh.

“Could be interesting. At least we wouldn’t have to walk all the way,” Ricks said. “I’m getting to like riding around in these Bradleys.”

“Well, we walked the first time. About time we caught a ride,” Hufham shot back.

The humor was making the three men almost giddy. For so long they struggled with life and death situations that the relaxed atmosphere was almost more than they could take. In a few minutes the three sat down and just looked along a small valley. It was such a pretty sight. The green of the valley floor was marred by several small farms, yet no movement could be seen anywhere. The small buildings on the farms had been burned out, but the men could hear birds chirping in the trees. No words were exchanged. They just sat and soaked up the peacefulness of the valley.

The building behind the men suddenly exploded, knocking all three men forward into a low stone wall. The crack of rifles and bullets ricocheting around them alerted the compound. Luckily, all three were relatively unharmed and grabbed their rifles in defense. The fire came from a clump of trees and underbrush about 100 yards into the valley. Gunfire was returned as Peterson, Ricks, and Hufham fanned out to get a good target. More gunfire erupted from other areas of the woods. By now over 100 men were rushing to positions along the road around Hufham and Ricks. Some grenades were fired into the area, killing about a dozen, but the gunfire didn’t really slacken.

A Bradley came from behind the building and its Bushmaster opened up, cutting through the underbrush. Cries and screams resulted and the gunfire ceased. The Bushmaster traversed to the next positioned and opened up again. Suddenly tank rounds exploded in the middle of the last two areas. Everyone looked around to see two tanks emerge from a side road aiming toward the enemy. Two more shots and it was over. Several men began moving down the road to secure the area. The others watched as the two tanks turned into four, then several more followed by trucks and other vehicles. Attached to one of the lead trucks was the flag of Japan.

Lt. Colonel Peterson turned and leaned back against the wall. “Shit. I was starting to like this place.” He looked over at Ricks. Ricks waved and nodded. Peterson struggled to his feet, then realized something wasn’t really right. His right side was sore. Glancing down he noticed the blood staining his hip. “Damnit!” he said.

Ricks heard the exclamation and saw the expression on Peterson’s face. Then he saw a bloodstained hand. He rushed over and threw his arm around Peterson’s shoulder to give him some support. The two men made it a few yards before a medic grabbed Peterson and eased him to the ground. The uniform was cut away revealing a gash about four inches long gouged an inch deep into his hip. The medic worked quickly, bandaging the wound and then having two men move him back to the courtyard.

Hufham stayed still. A bullet had entered under his left arm and he could feel the blood running down his side. When Ricks deposited the Colonel with the medics, he saw the pained look on Hufham’s face. He was already starting to turn pale with shock. “Get me a medic over here!” Ricks shouted.

Rushing to his side, Ricks lay Hufham down and grabbed for his first aid pouch. Before he had time to do anything a medic grabbed Hufham and began pulling away the flack vest and uniform shirt. He pressed a bandage against the wound, noting it wasn’t gushing blood, just a slow steady bleed. “It didn’t hit an artery,” he said as he worked.

While pressing the bandage firmly to help stop the bleeding, another medic felt around the shoulder and along the chest. “I feel it up front,” he said after a moment. His fingers were resting in front of Hufham’s collar bone just below his neck. The medic smiled down at Hufham. “That’s good. It means it didn’t go into your chest,” he said.

“You’re not feeling it the way I am,” Hufham grunted in pain. That was when the first medic jabbed him with a dose of morphine.

“Goddammit, Paul, can’t you keep out of trouble,” Ricks said to his friend. Concern was written all over his face. Hufham just grunted.

The major walked up and looked at Peterson and Hufham. “Get these three on a truck back to Pusan. I want a medic to go back with them,” he ordered. “Don’t worry guys,” he said. “We’ll get you home. Thanks for helping us out last night,” the man said extending his hand.

Peterson shook it firmly. “Just kick their ass all the way to China.”

The major headed back to his Bradley as the column began to circle around and start down a road heading northwest. Ricks, Hufham, and Peterson were loaded in the back of a deuce and a half and started back down the road they came in on. When they arrived in Pusan late in the afternoon, Hufham and Peterson were admitted to the military hospital where Peterson was sewed up and Hufham was taken into surgery. Ricks reported in to headquarters and was told to report to the barracks for some “R and R.”

After checking in, Ricks returned to the hospital where he stayed until Hufham was out of recovery and in a room. He was sitting in the waiting room when an attractive young Korean woman entered.

Su Lynn could see the heavy burden on Ricks’ shoulders. He looked up to see her standing in front of him. She knelt and took his hands in hers. Ricks reached forward and pulled her into a tender hug. She held him close while caressing the back of his head. No words were spoken. There was no need. By now they both knew how they felt.

Ricks pulled Su Lynn into the chair beside him, still holding her hand. “He was hit under the arm and it went up into his chest. The doctors are making sure the bullet didn’t do any more damage,” he said softly.

She nodded. “He be okay. You see,” she said. “We wait.”

After another thirty minutes a doctor came in and walked up to Ricks. “Your buddy is okay. The bullet’s out and it appears it didn’t really hit anything substantial. Give him a few days and he’ll be good as new,” he said. “Now why don’t you get out of here and get some rest. After what you’ve been going through, you need a break,” he said.

Su Lynn took Ricks by the hand and pulled him from the chair. “Let’s go home,” she said. Gently, she led the tired man out the door. Ricks didn’t pay any attention to where he was going. He just let her lead him wherever she wanted to go. In ten minutes they rounded the corner near her refugee center. They entered through the kitchen door and walked quietly through the darkened kitchen past two of the people putting away some linen. The couple smiled at them when they passed.

Su Lynn led Ricks to her small room in the corner. She pulled back the bed clothes and helped Ricks put away his gear and take off his soiled uniform. She laid him on the clean sheets and then turned off the small overhead lamp. Before she got in the bed with him, she closed the door.