Tempered Steel

Chapter 20

The bombardment had begun at midnight and lasted for six hours. Artillery saturated an area ten miles wide by ten miles deep along a line just south of the DMZ in the direction of Seoul, some 140 miles away. It was as if there had been no night. The flashes from the muzzles of the artillery were nearly constant and anyone nearby could clearly see what was happening all around the guns and their encampments. One soldier thought it was like seeing things through several strobe lights.

The B-52s hit the most congregated valleys along the way. Other aircraft hit the artillery positions and the hilltop emplacements. A recon drone was flying over the areas pinpointing the enemy positions. Once identified, the position was hit by the artillery, bombed, or marked for attention by the Special Forces units brought into the area.

In the early light as the men mounted their trucks and tracked vehicles, they could first hear a deep rumble from far above. Faintly they could see aircraft high in the sky moving over their position heading westward. Then the sound grew louder. Suddenly flights of aircraft flew over much lower to the ground. The artillery barrage had stopped just before the airplanes flew over. One of the men shouted, “They’re F-18s!”

The men looked skyward again. They were used to seeing A-6s and F-4s making attack runs, but the F/A-18s shot across the sky heavily laden with ordnance. The aircraft had been grounded because their technology no longer functioned, but now they were back and itching for vengeance. The men watched as two of the aircraft dropped their bombs just a short distance from where they stood and felt the ground shake with the explosions.

As the F/A-18s flew on, they were followed by another welcome sight. From behind the troops came the sound of rotary winged aircraft and two squadrons of Apache attack helicopters flew over their positions and through the enemy lines. The men watched as some stopped and fired at something on the ground, then moved on. More helicopters were seen farther down the line doing the same thing.

“OK, let’s go, let’s go!” shouted someone in one of the lead trucks. The trucks along the line started and the men hunkered into the backs. Bradley fighting vehicles led off down the road, followed occasionally by an M-1 and trucks full of troops.

Ricks was now allowed to sit in the front of a vehicle instead of the rear. At least he had a cushioned seat. The guys in back were sitting on wooden benches. As he climbed into the front, he glanced over at a truck in the second column. Hufham was looking back at him and gave him a wave. Ricks smiled and gave a wave back at his friend, silently wishing him luck.

The truck bounced roughly on the pockmarked road they were using. More of a trail than a road, it led through the valley and eventually met up with a little more stable surfaces if the artillery and bombs didn’t ruin it. The line of vehicles moved quickly through the sparse undergrowth along the line into what Ricks could only describe as a Martian landscape. Korea was usually lush and green. But here the trees were practically gone and the scrub denuded. In spots human bodies and wrecked equipment were lying in the rubble. Most noticeable were the thousands of pot holes that covered the land. Like some sort of brownish moon, they covered nearly every inch of soil and were dotted with things that were either burning or already burned to cinders. Ricks had never seen destruction like this.

One of the attack helicopters patrolled along the front of the line and occasionally moved back to make sure all was well. As it came past their truck, Ricks waved. He was surprised when the guy in the upper seat waved back. Just a simple gesture but making Ricks feel a little better about being out there. He looked over at the speedometer. The trucks were moving along at around forty-five miles per hour.

The farther they traveled from their lines, the less desolate the surrounding landscape looked. Occasionally the line stopped as something was engaged farther up the line, but soon the trucks started moving again. Twenty minutes into the ride the scenery changed again. As the trucks rounded the top of a hill Ricks gasped in awe as he saw what was beyond. It looked like someone had taken a lawnmower and cut a row of grass through the next valley. A mass of burning vehicles sat to one side with some fires farther on, but it was only in a column with set boundaries.

“What the fuck did this?” asked the stunned driver.

“Beats the shit out of me,” Ricks said. “But I bet we won’t see many troops here,” he said. Neither had ever seen the results of B-52 carpet bombing. Thirty of the giant planes had been used in this run.

The column breezed through and on into the next valley. Richardson’s plan had worked well.

“The situation is dire, Comrade Chairman, one of the ministers said quietly. He had been chosen by the others to give the bad news and was expecting to be shot almost immediately. “Last night the Allied forces destroyed a majority of our food, ammunition, and fuel supplies. Somehow they found our underground storage facilities and were able to destroy them,” he said solemnly.

“How? Did they use their nuclear weapons? We have been told this was the only way to do it,” Kim seethed.

“No, Comrade Chairman. The few who survived, reported massive explosions from inside the facilities. We still do not know all the facts.”

“Then it must be sabotage! We have traitors assisting the enemy! I want them weeded out now!” he demanded.

“It is underway even now, Comrade Chairman,” said one of the Party officials.

“At the same time the Americans attacked and destroyed the fortified naval facilities at Wonsan and, in Nampo, the rail lines to the People’s Republic and our forces along the former border. But this is not the worst,” he said with some dread. “The Americans have struck twelve of our hydroelectric dams all inside our borders. All twelve have been destroyed. Because of this, we no longer have the electrical capacity to operate the remaining underground facilities that produce our munitions and critical supplies. Even our trains cannot run. To correct this situation, we have ordered four of our old coal fired plants brought back on line. This will provide adequate electrical supplies and should have our facilities operating in just a few weeks.”

Kim was seething with rage. Everyone could see it in his face. It looked to the men in the room as if he would explode at any second. “And what of the antiaircraft weapons at the dams?” he spat out.

“Comrade Chairman, as you recall, you ordered us to move what systems we could to provide protection to the capital and other vital facilities. This has been done and they are around the city even as we speak. The few gun systems left on the dam sites fired at some air targets, but they are using optical systems that are not very useful at night.”

Kim’s face was a deep red. “What other bad news do you bring?” he asked, glaring at the men in front of him.

“None, Comrade Chairman. Our forces are firmly in place in the south and the plan is to begin fresh attacks against the American lines within the hour. There are reports of artillery fire and bombing along the eastern sector of our advance, but our intelligence feels this is a diversion to try and keep us from attacking where we are. We have a division of troops and equipment in that sector. If anything does happen, they should be adequate to the task. The main goal is to maintain our primary offensive operation in the South and take Pusan as quickly as possible.”

The Chairman’s face lightened. Once Pusan was taken, the rest wouldn’t mean much. Dams could always be replaced and supplies restocked. They had several hundred thousand troops in the South. That was a reality and that was the mission at hand. He looked down at the map with all the places marked that had been destroyed. It was impressive that the Americans had been able to destroy so much in one night, but there was also the massive collection of troops and material in their land to the south. That far overshadowed the few pinpricks they had received.

“Comrades, you have done well to have our forces moving in accordance with the plan. They are poised to do the people’s business. I realize we cannot expect to remain unscathed in our efforts. However, we must be vigilant against saboteurs. I am convinced people within the government have provided aid to our enemies. They must be brought to justice,” he said firmly. “I want our forces to step up their attacks and bring this war to a conclusion. Do what you must to achieve the goals you are assigned. I shall deal with the traitors,” he said.

Kim turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving the men standing shocked at the prospects. The mention of the word “traitor” meant there would be purges that rivaled Stalin’s in the Soviet Union. On the way out he grabbed two men and they followed him to his office. After closing the door he turned to the Defense Minister.

“You said earlier that our strategic forces are still intact,” he said. “How quickly could they be modified to strike at our enemies in the South?”

The Defense Minister blanched slightly. No one wanted to use the things. But even more, no one wanted to be shot for not following orders. “They will need to be modified slightly. Our technicians have devised a way to do this and are standing by to go to Yuktae-dong and make the changes. I have not prepositioned them there for fear they might be harmed in some American attack. Our ships are somewhat protected but the surrounding town is not. Would you like them to be moved there now?”

Kim thought a moment. “No. You are correct to be careful. It would not help to have our highly trained technicians lost to us as they were before, but have them ready to move on a moment’s notice,” he said dismissing the man.

The Defense Minister left the room and closed the door behind them. His skin was beginning to crawl standing between Choi and Kim. He knew exactly what they would be talking about and hoped that the plans did not include him.

At the end of the Second World War, many military leaders were wary of the introduction of so called push button weapons in warfare. The idea that missiles could be launched from anywhere to rain destruction down on an enemy without forces actually meeting each other was repugnant to them, but in reality it was not the missiles that threatened the end of person-on-person warfare. True, nuclear weapons would do exactly that, but the use of such weapons hurt everyone — friend and enemy.

The true problem came from real time reconnaissance information — in this case, from the KH-13 reconnaissance satellite. It gave commanders on the ground the knowledge of where the enemy was and where they were heading. Using that information, the commander could manipulate things to his advantage.

The advance of the North Korean Army into the South was watched closely. The North Koreans were single mindedly determined in their move toward Pusan. As a result, they took the easier route along the major valleys and roadways wrapping around the mountains on the peninsula. Along the way, General Monahan placed his troops to add obstacles along certain valleys and in certain directions to steer the North Koreans in one particular direction — towards the town of Hongcheon. Along the river and highway leading into the town lay a valley nearly two miles wide and four miles long. More importantly, the valley had only four accesses into it. Two of these were along North Korean advance.

Watching the advance, Monahan set his plan in motion. A large contingency of troops was placed in the middle of the valley in the hopes the enemy reconnaissance forces would see them there. The rest was up to the North Koreans.

The lead elements of the North Korean forces moved down into the wide valley separating them from the Allied forces in Hongcheon. The forces were packed closely together so that, as they moved, they could spread out and quickly fill the spaces between the hills. What little intelligence they had along with a few reconnaissance assets indicated this was where the defenses were the lightest, filled with simple infantry troops.

The North Korean commander was not taking chances. His artillery pounded the area for an hour with no response. There was actually no other choice but to go. The Party was demanding action. All the unit commanders understood it. It was also a main artery towards their destination. They had raised the spirits of the men to a fever pitch and were pressing them into action. One hundred sixty thousand more troops followed behind the lead elements, each waiting for their chance at glory.

Only four tanks were in the first wave. They were weaving back and forth as they crossed the divide and began shooting into the trees at the far side. The troops shifted back and forth across the area, making it look like some kind of confused dance.

The first warning came when the tanks and troops approached the tents for the infantry camp in the middle of the valley. The North Koreans moved in only to find the camp empty.

When the tanks reached the far side of the valley near the gap, they came in for a second surprise. The gap was actually a bend in a deep river with only one highway bridge across it. As the soldiers watched, the bridge exploded and collapsed in front of them.

In truth no American or any other Allied forces were in the valley or within a mile of it. A lone RPV circled overhead watching the progress from over 3,000 feet while the KH-13 watched from space. More and more North Korean troops filled the valley. Separate commands began filing in from the two directions. At first, there was no problem, and the commanders met to determine the course of action, not realizing that troops were still filling the valley. Men, equipment, supplies, and tanks poured in. When the valley floor was filled with men and equipment, the Allied response was triggered.

A-10 Warthogs suddenly popped over the hills behind the North Korean troops coming in from the two adjacent valleys and began firing into the packed men and equipment, forcing them to move more rapidly into the giant valley ahead of them. This action was followed by Cobra helicopter gunships that began sweeping the area. The result was the North Koreans were ‘herded’ into the now packed valley, further compressing the troops into one huge mass. As more troops entered the area, they too were herded into the trap.

After nearly an hour of herding, the Allied artillery opened up. More than 100 pieces of artillery were hidden in the hills around the large valley. Systematically, they began sweeping their fire through the tightly packed men, firing until their magazines were emptied and they turned it back over to the airplanes and helicopters.

As the firing stopped for a moment, some of the North Korean commanders thought it was over and a troop assault might begin. They began to rally their troops once more. They failed to see four airplanes flying about 5,000 feet above them.

The AC-130 Specters lined up to do their deadly business. Well known for their ability to provide pinpoint targeting accuracy against ground targets, there was little chance for them to miss. More than 160,000 troops were contained in the valley below. The 20mm Vulcan cannons began unleashing their rapid fire devastation on the troops below while their 40mm took on heavier concentrations and heavy equipment. The 105mm gun looked for packed supplies and trucks along with the few farmhouses in the area where troops could hide. The four gunships lazily plied back and forth over the valley carrying out their deadly business.

The troops in the valley panicked. Many tried to climb the hills but were forced back into the valley by helicopter gunships that popped over the crests and fired directly into them. On occasion, a handheld missile would cross the sky toward one of the helicopters, but in most cases the helicopter simply ducked back down behind the crest of the hill. Only five helicopters were lost to the handheld missiles.

The problem for the North Koreans was that the valley had no hiding places. It was mostly agriculture and the few farmhouses had been targeted early. The enemy troops had no place to run. One courageous group tried to swim the river, only to be mowed down by several sets of machine guns on the opposite side. Men were dying by the score as the aircraft cut through them like a scythe through wheat. When they tried to regroup and go back through the valley entrances, they found their entrance was closed by more aircraft and gunships.

The killing continued for more than an hour. After a while the pilots and crews began to grow weary of the slaughter. They herded the remaining troops into one corner of the valley and began shooting only those who raised a rifle toward them. Finally, the remaining few North Koreans began to throw down their weapons and raised their hands. In some cases, fanatical officers shot the men giving up. That usually ended with the officer being killed by his own people. The men had been through enough. Some even fashioned a white flag. Only then did the Bradleys enter the valley over a set of hills and take charge of the troops. Medics were called in to help the wounded. When the final count came in, more than 160,000 troops had been cornered in the valley. Of those, only 16,257 came out unscathed.

It took less than a week to reach Seoul. General Richardson’s troops secured the entrances to the city on the north and eastern sides while General Monahan’s troops secured the south. Admiral Thacke secured the western approaches by blockading Inchon Harbor. A message was sent to the North Korean commander requesting his surrender. The response was an artillery barrage against Richardson’s positions on the eastern edge of the city.

“Well, we gave them a chance,” Richardson said as the artillery rounds fell near one of the main highways leading to the city. “Major, talk to me,” she said.

Major Leptin was an intelligence officer assigned to the command. It was his turn at the morning brief. “Ma’am, it’s obvious the commander didn’t like your message, but he’s being crafty.” He pointed to a detailed map of the city and the surrounding area. “We are seeing him mass his troops to the north of the city. Their focal point is right here near the World Cup Stadium,” he said pointing to a place along the Han River. “We believe they are going to try and make a break up the Han back into North Korea. It would only mean about a twenty-three mile run.”

“Doesn’t the guy realize we own most of that property right now?” she asked.

“We don’t know that he does. Our units haven’t really attacked any of their troops in that vicinity and he may not have that many troops outside Seoul itself. But he definitely knows we took Euijeongbu, Changsudul, and Sinhwa-ri. That pretty much hems him in. Something we have been watching on the satellite is troop emplacements in certain areas of the city. They have selected specific sites to defend that will give us major headaches as we enter. They all involve key junctions and tall buildings allowing them to control large sectors from those points. Several of them involve schools and other public buildings. We have noticed a large number of civilians being rounded up and placed in these buildings. So we should expect they are using them as shields against our troops. In the case of the schools, the children have not been allowed to leave in the past two days.”

“My god!” muttered one of the officers in the room.

“General, this goes along with what we have seen before. The command leadership is fanatical in their beliefs and has no qualms about throwing lives away to achieve their aims. In this case, they plan on making us pay dearly for Seoul, both in lives and in propaganda,” Leptin said closing his brief.

For one of the few times in her life Richardson was furious. How could fellow human beings do things like that? Not only would they throw their lives away, but force her to expend lives under her command as well. Not on my watch, she thought.

The supply officer was about to make his report but she waved him off. “Anything substantial?” she asked him. He shook his head.

“OK then, let’s get some things going. Based on what we see, this is going to be a rough proposition. Obviously the North wants to make us pay and then sneak away up the river. Well, that’s not going to happen. The minute they start moving that direction, I want to cut them off at the knees. From what I see, the only place to ford is near Munsan. The last time I looked we own that property as well. When he gets there, let’s show him what happens when you land on Boardwalk,” she said referring to a popular board game where that was the most expensive property.

“As for the city, I don’t relish going in and I don’t relish starving them out. So let’s think about this a little. You say they are fortifying just key emplacements?” Richardson asked.

“Yes, Ma’am. We have those pinpointed.”

“Then we change our tactics. No planes or artillery since we will kill civilians. But it means we use our infantry as if we are going after insurgents. It’s a police action again. We learned a shit load about that in Iraq. Let’s put it to good use. Lightning raids on the company level. Send in plenty of snipers and just root them out like a bad tooth. At the same time, start moving our heavy stuff along that line with a major stopper at Munsan. No one goes home, gentlemen. No one makes it across that border; not across the bridge and not by swimming the river. How are we going to keep them from the other side of the river along the way?” she asked.

“General, that river is only about 12 miles from Sido Island. It’s deep water. I can ask Admiral Thacke if he could put some of his ships up there. That way he could reach both sides of the river,” said Commander Jacobs, the Navy liaison.

“Good plan. Let me know what he says.” She returned to the others. “I want options to me by 5 pm. When approved, I want people on the road by 6. Let’s get a move on.”

The staff stood up and left the tent. Around headquarters, things really started to move.

It was cold now in Korea. Once the sun went down the temperatures plummeted. Ricks huddled beside one of the trucks sipping some coffee. As a part of the spearhead across the peninsula, they saw their share of action, but it was mostly minor skirmishes since the Air Force had blown most of the North Korean Army into the dark ages. The assignment this evening was something else.

Ricks was nervous. He and his unit were assigned to a Marine command to go in and take a key spot. A young lieutenant briefed everyone in and gave them the bad news. They were going to take out a school house full of children. Their orders were to rout out the North Koreans and try not to let any of the kids get hurt. All intelligence knew was there were over 100 DPRs in there. There was no word on what they might have with them, besides the kids. It was the toughest assignment he’d been given.

Ricks was trying to stay warm when someone walked up next to him.

“Ricks?” the man asked.

Ricks looked up to see Corporal Miller looking down at him. He broke out in a smile and stood up. “Damn, Miller, how’s it going? Don’t tell me you are assigned to this fiasco too.” He said cheerfully as they shook hands.

“Yeah. We’re going in with you to try and pick off a few where we can. Brought my rifle and a couple of pistols,” he said handing one over. “They told me you were coming along and I thought you might like to carry one.”

Ricks took the weapon, a 9mm with a silencer attached. “Damn right. I was wondering how we might get in. We go shooting up things with the M-16s and all hell will break loose. How many of these are we taking?”

“My guys brought ten and I have five guys with me in my squad. We all have the silenced rifles. The Lieutenant said this should be a stealthy mission. You still have night vision?”

“Yep, and a couple sets of batteries. Shall I pick out the guys to use these?” he asked holding up the pistol.

“That would be the plan. I told the Lieutenant you would know who the sharpshooters were. He said to have at it. Why don’t you grab the guys and meet me over by the command tent. I’ll have the weapons and ammo.”

“Good enough,” said Ricks. He went to his squad and grabbed ten of his best people and assembled with Miller by the tent. Miller handed out the pistols and ammunition. As they were doing it, the Lieutenant walked up.

“You’re getting loaded out. That’s good,” said Lieutenant Dickson. “OK, guys, listen up. You all know what’s going to be happening. I need you guys to lead this charge. I am having another group make a diversion on the other side of the building while we go in the back door. All of you have the night vision glasses and the silenced weapons. My goal is to sneak in and get the kids out if we can. Once that’s done we can kill everybody in the place as far as I’m concerned,” he said. “Now I don’t know where the kids are. They could be in classrooms or could be in the gym or something, but we find them and get them out. Use these things to take out anyone who tries to stop us or looks like will try and hurt a kid. Once we get them away we can start making our way through the building and securing it,” he said.

The men around him nodded in understanding. “Most of all, try and not get killed. I hate writing letters to mommy,” he said with a grin. The men around him chuckled. He looked around the group and saw Ricks standing there with his staff sergeant stripes. “You must be Sergeant Ricks,” he said extending his hand. “Glad to have you with us. I appreciate your help,” he said.

“My pleasure, Lieutenant. You going to lead us in?”

“Damn right! You cover mine, and I’ll cover yours,” Dickson said.

“Fair enough, sir. What time do we shove off?”

Dickson glanced at his watch. “Ten minutes. We’ll go by truck a good part of the way. We’ll be breaking off from the convoy pretty early on.”

“Convoy?” Ricks asked.

“We’re not the only ones doing nasty jobs tonight,” Dickson said. “But I’ll be glad when our part is over.”

Ricks nodded. This guy Dickson was okay. He seemed like a smart guy and he didn’t mind taking the point with the ground pounders when it got rough. At least he wasn’t wet behind the ears like some. Ricks loaded up his extra ammo clips and equipment, slung his pack over his shoulders, and walked over to the truck that would take them to their mission. Hell, at least we don’t have to walk all the way, he thought.

A short distance away, Hufham was talking with Lt. Colonel Peterson. “So we are to give these guys a diversion. In plain talk I have to get my guys shot at for a while,” he said with a little disgust.

“What do you expect? Should they let us just walk in?” Peterson asked. “We need to get their attention so that Marine unit can sneak in and get some kids out. Those monkeys are using kids as hostages.

“Screw that. Where do you want us to be?” The idea of holding defenseless kids really pissed Hufham off.

“On this side of the building and down the street,” Peterson said pointing at the map. “I figure we make some noise like we’re heading in. They take some shots and we just sit back and let them shoot. We occasionally shoot back in that direction, but not really at the building. I’m having a Bradley cruise around some too. Might draw what fire they have out. When I get the signal, then we can move in and clean house,” Peterson said.

Hufham nodded. “I can handle that. When do we leave?”

Peterson grinned. “Right now. Get your guys and meet me back here in five.”

Hufham grunted. “Be right back.” It didn’t take long. The squad was already alerted and ready. They grabbed their gear and assembled with the Colonel. Two Bradleys were waiting. The men piled in and moved out.

The school was a four story building on the eastern approach to Seoul. It was in the shape of a “C” with the top of the “C” a little shorter than the bottom. In the center of the “C” was a courtyard where the children could play. The building towered over the one and two story homes and businesses in that part of the city. Major roads were within 300 yards in any direction and streets seemed to branch out from the school. Most of the surrounding neighborhood was homes and small business.

The North Koreans occupied the top two floors and had installed several pieces of artillery along with machine guns. From where they were, they had a clear shot for over three miles in any direction. This included the key bridges entering the city from the southeast.

Dickson and his men entered the city through Guri, sheltered by some high hills on the east of Seoul. Navigating through some narrow roads between the hills, they entered the neighborhoods of Seoul and made their way toward the school. On one occasion, they stopped to take a look at their objective. The school rose like some monolith in the sea of rooftops.

Dickson and his men stopped the trucks in an alley beside a small home just south of the school, about 200 yards away. They were masked by some two story structures across a narrow street. The men quickly and silently began working their way toward the school.

When they got to one four lane road, Dickson stopped the team and turned to Ricks. “The school should be just beyond this road and those houses,” he said pointing. “We should be at the end of the building so there shouldn’t be many guys who can see us, but we need to spread out and make our way. Pass the word. No big groups. We move in and gather at a retaining wall just below this end. If you see anyone, we stop and take care of it,” he said. “Now send Miller up here.”

Ricks nodded and passed the word on back down the line. Miller soon appeared with his rifle and took off with Dickson in the lead. Ricks was proud of the way the men were doing. Their uniforms blended in with the surroundings perfectly and, with no lights on, they would be nearly impossible to see from the school. Everyone was painted up and moving without a sound.

Dickson switched on his night vision glasses. After passing the street, he stopped at the corner of a building and peered cautiously around it. They were about seventy yards from the school and he could see two men walking along the top of the retaining wall at the end of the school. Both carried rifles. Dickson motioned for Miller to have a look. Miller studied the situation for a moment, then nodded. He raised one finger and pointed to the right, then pointed left indicating the sequence he would take.

Miller took careful aim with his rifle and waited until the guard on the right was far away from the other guard, then he gently squeezed the trigger. A light “pap” sound was heard and he saw the guard on the right drop from sight. He quickly switched to the second guard. In just three seconds he too was down and Dickson motioned his men forward. They gathered at the base of the retaining wall and, using hand signals, fanned out toward the entrance.

A set of doors were the only access to that side of the school. It was at the narrow end of the building with no windows except in the doors. Silently walking up four steps, Dickson eased up to the window level and glanced inside. No one was in the hallway beyond the doors. Taking a few more steps, he reached the doors and eased his head up until he could see into the window again more clearly.

He could see a long dark hallway with classrooms and lockers on both sides. The hall itself was empty. To Dickson, it looked much like a typical American school with concrete block walls and windowed doors.

Dickson looked down at the door and its handle. The door was slightly ajar indicating the guards had recently used it. Shifting to the other side of the doorway he pulled the door open just slightly and looked for any strings or other booby traps that might be set up; but there were none. He turned to the men behind him, raised two fingers, and pointed. Then he and Ricks eased the door open and passed inside.

Both men flattened themselves against the walls and waited for any kind of alarm. They were lucky the doors didn’t squeak. Cautiously, they made their way to the first set of classroom doors opposite each other in the hallway. Ricks peered into the classroom. It was empty. Looking toward Dickson, he gave a thumbs up and continued to the second. The sound of footsteps caused them to flatten against the wall again.

A guard walked across the entrance on the far end of the hall. He didn’t bother to glance in their direction but instead continued to walk his rounds. In a few seconds, they heard the squeak of the soles of his shoes as he turned and came back. This time, he looked down the hall, but seeing nothing, continued on.

Ricks took a breath again. This clandestine stuff was for the birds. He was just as happy shooting the guy and being done with it, but the addition of children prevented that. He noticed Dickson freeze and hold up his hand.

Dickson looked into the next classroom and found it had been turned into a barracks. Six men were inside sleeping on cots. He raised three fingers, then raised them again before pointing at the room. Looking back down the hall, six men had entered besides him and Ricks.

Ricks motioned for two men to come up. They eased around the lockers and joined them at the door with their silenced pistols in their hands. Dickson held up the six fingers again, then pointed at the gun and gave a cut sign across his throat. Both men nodded in understanding. They gently opened the door and walked inside. There was a soft sound almost as if some drops of rain had hit the floor, then the two men eased back out of the room.

The team continued to make its way silently up the hall looking into each room. They reached the end of the hall and peered around the corner. One man was walking up and down the long hallway while another was sitting at a small table reading under a lamp. At the far end of the hall were four other men just standing around.

This was getting complicated. The targets were too far away for the pistols and with the small light on, there was a chance they might be seen. Dickson felt a tug on his arm. It was Miller.

“Let me get my guys up here. We can get the ones at the end and by the light. Wait till the guard comes this way and one of you can take him out,” he whispered only loud enough to be heard by Dickson.

Dickson nodded in understanding and gave another thumbs up. Miller and his men spread out across the hall behind some lockers and took a bead on the targets at the far end. They waited as the one guard slowly made his way toward them.

The guard was tired. It was an hour into his watch and he was already bored to death. His place was out killing Americans not nursemaiding children. His rifle was slung over his shoulder as he slowly walked down the hall. It was bad enough they spent all day lugging the guns up the stairways and getting them set up, but to spend half the night wandering the halls was beyond reason. The officer took the only chair available. He was sitting reading Mao’s Little Red Book while the soldiers kept watch. The further up the hall he got the darker it became. The building was just over 100 yards long from end to end. That light in the middle made it worse. Twice he had tripped on something left on the floor. As he neared the end of the hall something didn’t look quite right. Usually the lockers made a straight line shadow in the dim light that he watched for to make sure he didn’t hit them. This time it did not. He reached for his gun when he saw a very small flash.

All the targets dropped at once as the snipers fired. A slight clatter was heard at the other end as a couple of rifles hit the hard floor. Miller took one more shot and snuffed the lamp, sending the hallway into total darkness. A little more quickly the men moved down the hall, glancing into the rooms and making sure no one else was around.

A small light came from one room. The radio operator had his headset on and was intent on listening to something. One shot from Ricks’ pistol took care of business. He lowered the man back on the table to look like he was sleeping and placed a helmet on the man’s head. Picking up the headset, he put it to his ear. The man had been listening to South Korean Rock and Roll. By the time he came back out the door, the others were pulling the bodies out of the hallway into a classroom.

Some shouts could be heard from the upper floors and, in the distance came the sound of a diesel engine. Some soldiers on the upper landings were talking and moving around. No one came down the stairs. They were too intent on watching the roads.

Looking into the large doors at the end of the hallway, Dickson found what they had been looking for. The cafeteria floor was lined with sleeping children. There were two men inside as far as he could see. One was sitting behind a machine gun at one corner; its muzzle aiming towards the children. He was about to signal the others when someone he hadn’t seen turned the corner and walked toward the doors. Dickson backed quickly away and waited for the man to come through. Oblivious to what had occurred outside, the man slapped the doors open and walked through allowing them to close behind him. Dickson raised his pistol and put a round through the soldier’s left ear. He watched the already dead body tumble like a rag.

Thinking fast, Dickson motioned for Ricks to join him. He grabbed the man’s rifle and slung it over his shoulder like the dead man had carried it, then pulled the blood stained hat over his head. He and Ricks casually opened the doors and walked into the gym. Dickson walked to a position behind the man on the machine gun and leaned up against the wall. Ricks did almost the same, walking farther down the wall toward the second soldier standing guard over the kids on the other side. Ricks pulled up a chair and sat down. Both had a clear shot. Ricks saw Dickson raise his pistol and he did the same. The shots went off almost at the same time.

Ricks sprinted to the opposite side of the room and glared into the kitchen. It was empty. He gave a thumbs up to Dickson who called in the rest of the troops.

More than 100 children were in the cafeteria. At first Dickson wasn’t sure what they would do with them all, but one child raised his head, wondering what was going on. One of the soldiers nearby came over and pressed a finger to his lips and shushed him. Then, one-by one, the soldiers began waking the children and telling them in both English and Korean to keep very quiet. To Dickson’s surprise, none of them screamed or cried out, although a few wanted to start talking. He motioned to Ricks to come over.

“If we try and go out the kitchen, the people on the other floors might see. It’s the shortest wing. Let’s get them down the hall and back out where we came in. Have six of the guys lead the kids to the trucks and hold them there while we search the other floors,” he said.

Ricks nodded and got things going. Very quietly the children began walking down the halls. Unfortunately the sounds of little feet were hard to mask and Dickson and the others cringed at the noise. But no one came down the stairs at the end of the halls or at the main entrance.

Outside the building, first one, then another tracked vehicle came down the street several hundred yards away. Ricks could hear orders being given on one of the upper floors and weapons being loaded.

Scanning the courtyard and the streets around the building, the coast was clear and the children were quickly led around the retaining wall to a building at the far side of the street out of sight.

Dickson turned back to Ricks. “OK, now for the fun part. You ready to go up a flight?” he asked in a whisper.

“Do we have a choice?”

Dickson stifled a laugh. “Let’s go.”

The men walked down the first hall again and half the unit went to the stairwell at one end with Ricks while the rest stayed with Dickson. As the men quietly ascended the stairs, a loud bang resounded as one of the guns opened up on the parading Bradleys. Along with the shouts by the soldiers were the screams of more children. Dashing up the final few steps, Dickson looked around the corner of the stairwell.

The hall had several men walking around going between rooms in the center of the hall. Making his way, Dickson saw that the end classrooms were vacant, but the second one had children inside. He saw no guards. Checking the door, it was locked.

He motioned for his men to come ahead and begin going from room to room. Looking back in the door window, he saw that no children were near the door itself. Aiming his pistol at the lock, he pulled the trigger twice. The door opened and he stepped inside to a scream. Some of the girls thought he was there to kill them. He motioned for them to quiet down, but they kept it up. Suddenly the light was flipped on and he turned to see a North Korean soldier standing in the doorway. He raised his pistol and fired before the man could spread the alarm, spinning the soldier around and slamming him to the floor. A second soldier appeared wearing an American uniform and the night vision goggles. He snapped the lights back off before firing one more into the North Korean.

Now the children were silent — too shocked to really comprehend what they had just seen. Dickson shushed the children to get their attention, then said in a low voice “American.”

The second soldier began rapidly speaking to them in Korean and the kids quietly followed them out of the room and down the stairs. He was about to go down the hall when Ricks caught up. “Second floor secured. Looks like the third is empty. All the guns and soldiers are on the fourth,” he said. “There are some children in another classroom down this hall. We’re bringing them out.”

A line of very young children began making their way down the hall. They were half way when a soldier came down the central stairs. He saw the children and one of the American soldiers and gave a shout of alarm. “Cover us!” shouted Dickson and he grabbed some children and began running toward the far stairwell.

Soldiers began firing down the central stairs and rushing down to stop the men and children. Discarding their pistols, Ricks and his men began firing their M-16s into the packed soldiers as they came down the landing, then tossed a grenade up one flight. Explosions shook the building as grenades cleared the initial assault. But the North Koreans now abandoned their big guns and took up their small arms. Ricks tossed another grenade and dashed up the stairs after it went off. He was followed by a squad of his men. They took cover on the third floor and watched as a squad of North Koreans bounded down the stairs going for the second. They were mowed down before they made it past the door. Ricks called his men to move down the hall toward the end stairwell where more shooting and loud explosions were heard.

They entered the landing to see several North Koreans descending the stairs toward the screams of the children. Ricks immediately opened up on the men while squad members tossed grenades up to the fourth floor landing. They ducked back inside the third floor hall before the grenades went off.

The explosion was horrendous. It peeled the roof off the school building and sent a fireball 100 feet in the air. The grenades landed near a soldier who used his rifle to knock them away. Unwittingly he knocked them into the ready service ammunition for the 78mm gun. The gun was blown out the front of the building onto the street below and parts of the fourth floor collapsed down onto the third. Seeing the explosion, Lt. Colonel Peterson figured correctly that things were not going well, loaded up the Bradleys, and headed in.

The carnage was nearly complete. As they approached the school they saw fires burning on one side of the building. Peterson’s men rounded to the back of the building just in time to see Dickson’s men crouching behind the retaining wall with some of the children. Quickly exiting the Bradley, Peterson was told there were more children and where they would be, then he got as many children inside the transport as he could and sent it off to meet up with the rest down the road.

The second Bradley entered the school from the area of the gym. Hufham quickly had his men spread out and begin making their way through the halls and up the stairs. Three children were found huddled in the hall on the first floor and were taken to safety.

Peterson entered the same way Dickson’s group had and met up with Hufham at the end of the hall. They were stopped on the first landing at the sound of muffled sobs coming from what looked like a body at the base of the stairs.

Hufham shined a light at the sounds. Lieutenant Dickson’s body lay huddled over a young boy, no more than 8 years old. In his last act, he had thrown himself over the boy to protect him from a grenade that dropped almost right beside them. His arms were still wrapped around the young boy. Gently, Hufham eased the Lieutenant’s body off the child and laid it back. He picked up the frightened boy and carried him back down the hall.

Peterson looked down at the face of the Lieutenant. His eyes were closed and there was a serene look on his face — as if he knew he had done a wonderful thing. Even his lips appeared to turn up slightly in a smile. Peterson knelt beside the young man and removed the Lieutenant’s helmet, brushing back his hair, then laying his hand on the young man’s cheek. “God bless you, Lieutenant,” he said softly, removing his helmet and saying a short prayer.

Another soldier came up to Peterson. “Sir, we have some wounded guys up on third.”

Peterson put his helmet back on. “Lead the way, Corporal.”

The two men made their way to the center stairwell, through the wreckage and up to the third floor. The devastation on the third floor was not so bad at first, but as they made their way farther Peterson could see parts of the fourth floor had caved in. Two men were being treated by medics and a small group had gathered toward the worst of the wreckage. Peterson walked up and looked down into the beam of the flashlights. “Oh no,” he sighed.

Ricks lay unconscious on the floor. His flack vest was peppered with holes and he was cut in several places on his face and arms.

“We can’t get him out, Colonel,” said one man. He pointed to Ricks’ legs trapped from just below the knees by a huge section of concrete and rebar from the fourth floor. One of the Medics was placing a tourniquet on a leg to stem the blood flow as the legs bled under the slab.

“Get Hufham. Then call in and get as many men as it will take to get that slab off him. I want this man alive,” he ordered.

Hufham arrived two minutes later. “The kids are in the trucks and on their way,” he said as he walked down the hall. “Who got hurt?” he asked. Peterson walked up and took his arm. He looked at Hufham in the semi-darkness.

“Son-of-a-bitch,” Hufham said as he pushed past to see his friend lying on the floor. He knelt beside Ricks and took his hand. “Dale? Dale, are you with me?” he asked.

“I gave him morphine, but he was already unconscious,” said the Medic. “I got tourniquets on his legs, but we’ve got to get him out from here,” he said.

Hufham nodded through his tears and looked around at Rick’s legs. “Well he ain’t gonna get away that easy,” he said. Turning to two soldiers, “You two find some crow bars or some long pieces of steel or pipe. Let’s see if we can pry him out of this,” he shouted. The men dashed down the hall and down the stairs.

“Watch after him,” Hufham ordered as he got up and sprinted to the fourth floor. That was where he found what he was looking for, two long steel rods used to position guns for aiming. Grabbing them, he dragged them down the stairs to the third floor. Calling up the rest of the squad, the men lined up and positioned the thin tip of the rods under the concrete on either side of Ricks. Using another piece of concrete for leverage, six men put their weight on the ends of the bars and the concrete slab lifted slightly. The medic and Peterson pulled Ricks from the rubble before the concrete fell back into place.

Ricks’ legs and feet were mashed flat. There was no substance to them and blood was everywhere. The Medic tightened the tourniquets once more and the men placed Ricks gently on a stretcher. Once done, they quickly took him to an awaiting Bradley and secured him inside. Peterson yelled up to the driver. “Floor this thing and get that man to a hospital now!”

The Bradley lurched forward and rapidly accelerated down the highway. Peterson and Hufham looked at each other. “Sorry, Paul. Damn!” Peterson exclaimed as he too felt the sorrow wash over him for a second.

“It’s OK, Boss. Let’s get back to work before we start sobbin’ like a couple of women watching soap operas,” Hufham said. The two men made their way back to the school to mop things up. At least this one would be marked “mission accomplished.”

“Comrade Chairman, we have lost communications with our forward units” the Defence Minister stated. “They have been on the attack for the last eight hours and have failed to report. The telephone communications have been lost south of the former border and radio is out. I am unable to tell you of the results of that battle and have sent messengers by car to retrieve it,” he said.

“What have you done to restore communications?”

“We have sent technicians along the telephone lines to find the disruption. They are accompanied by additional soldiers in case there is trouble. I have also sent new radio units down to the commanders in case they have been destroyed in the fighting.”

“Any other reports?”

“We had a report from the commander in Seoul saying he was surrounded and trying to break out. I sent a message that he is to stand his ground. No Allied soldiers are between Seoul and Pyongyang and the North Korean Army is not that far away. Obviously the man is having mental problems. I sent a new commanding general to relieve him of duties. Once he arrives there will be an end to cowardice in the ranks,” the Minister said.

“Indeed. I wish to be informed the instant we receive word from the south,” Kim demanded. “I also wish for you to send the technicians to the ship. I believe it is time we demonstrated our real power,” he said.

The Minister nodded. “I will order it immediately.”

“Good. Now continue with the briefings,” Kim said.

General Hu Dong Sui rode in his staff car through the North Korean countryside. The Defense Minister himself selected him to relieve the garrison commander in Seoul. His orders were quite clear — hold Seoul and maintain it as a base of operations for the People’s Army. The roads in North Korea were fairly poor. It took three hours so far to travel the eighty miles from Pyongyang to the area north of Seoul. He would cross the bridge at Munsan and from there would be very close indeed.

The driver saw the sign for Kaesong, one of the last towns before crossing the border. He could see lights up ahead and some vehicles. The driver slowed the car and eventually brought it to a halt.

“Why are you stopping?” asked Hu.

“Comrade, those do not look like our tanks,” said the driver. He was visibly nervous.

Hu looked at the vehicles ahead and then gasped, “They are Americans!”

Shots began to ricochet off the car as the driver jammed it into reverse and backed into the darkness. Sliding sideways into a turn, he quickly shoved the car in first gear and gunned the engine, sending a shower of gravel along the road behind them. The car sped along the road, often swerving and almost going into the ditch. At Kyejong-gol the driver slid to a halt outside the police station. Hu ran inside.

“I need a telephone line to the capital immediately,” he demanded. The man behind the desk produced an old telephone receiver and Hu dialed the operator.

“This is General Hu Dong Sui. I need you to connect me with the People’s Palace immediately!” After a minute someone answered. “This is General Hu. I must speak to the Defense Minister immediately. It is of great importance!”

“The Defense Minister is in a conference with the Chairman right now. He must not be disturbed.”

“Disturb him! The Americans are within our country!”

“That’s impossible.”

“It is possible and you must connect me now or I will have you shot!”

The line clicked and began to ring again. Someone answered quietly.

“This is General Hu, I must speak to the Defense Minister.”

“I am sorry, but the Def…”

“I do not care if he is available or not. Put him on the phone right now!”

In a few seconds the familiar voice came on the line. “This is the Defense Minister, who is this?”

“Comrade Minister, it is General Hu. The Americans are in Kaesong. I was nearly shot by one of their tanks on the road leading toward Pyongyang.”

“Are you certain, Comrade?”

“Yes, Comrade Minister. I have the bullet holes in the car to prove it. We must send troops immediately!”

“Where are you?” the Minister asked.

Kyejong-gol at the local police station. I can wait here for troops, but they must be sent now, comrade.”

“Stay there, it will be done,” the Minister said hanging up the telephone. He turned to the group. “Pardon me, comrades, but I have received alarming news. General Hu just told me that American tanks are in Kaesong. Somehow the Americans are north of our border and moving toward Pyongyang.”

The crowd of men began shouting back and forth. No one believed the report and everyone was trying to cast blame on someone else. The Defense Minister raised his hand to quiet the men. “Comrades, we must act quickly. Have the army troops guarding Pyongyang mustered and sent to the south to counter this threat. General Hu is waiting in Kyejong-gol. He can get things organized. Chairman, you are very correct in moving the technicians. I will get them on a train and have them there by tomorrow evening. I recommend we use nuclear attack plan bravo and launch against key installations in the south. This will stop any incursion and allow us to regain our footing,” he said decisively.

Kim was standing there with his mouth open, still processing the invasion of the motherland. He dumbly nodded. “Make your plans and prepare to move from the capital if necessary. Where are additional troops we can send into this?”

“There are none, Comrade. Your prior ministers failed to inform you we were using up our reserves? We drew down everything but the Chinese border guards and the troops around our military facilities and Pyongyang for this final push. We may be faced with no army at all!” he shouted. “We must act now and save what we can until we know exactly what we have!”

Kim nodded. “Make the arrangements. Choi and I will accompany you to see the missiles launch. I want all the ministers to meet with us there tomorrow evening. Now go!” he shouted.

The room emptied quickly leaving only Kim and Choi. “Have some of your men meet us there. Once the missiles launch that man is dead along with the other ministers. If we have to start new, then let it be with trusted advisors,” he said turning on his heel and leaving the room.

The North Korean evacuation of Seoul lasted only thirty minutes. Using all the vehicles they could scrounge up, the 30,000 man garrison departed from the World Cup Stadium and made a dash along the highway beside the Han River. They covered exactly eight miles before the shells from the battleships Massachusetts, New Jersey, and Missouri began pounding them to pieces. They were also harassed by artillery and tanks. The last six trucks remaining reached the bend in the river near Munsan before the Apache gunships blocked their way. The garrison commander died in the barrage. Only a lieutenant was left. He got out of the civilian truck he was in and raised his hands. He looked across the river into North Korea, only to see an American flag flying on the promontory.

Just as before, General Richardson watched them come. The convoy of troops made its way across the dirt roads of North Korea putting up a cloud of dust behind them that could be seen from space. They stopped in Kyejong-gol, picked up General Hu, and made their way south. The convoy reached the place the General had seen the tanks, but nothing was there. They proceeded to Kaesong and drove straight to the government buildings. American flags were flying everywhere.

General Hu was furious. He got out of the truck and stormed into the building demanding to know why the flags were flying. Sitting at a desk in the main hall was General Claire Richardson. Behind her were the flags of the United States and the Marine Corps.

“What can I do for you, General?” she asked from her seat.

He started to draw his weapon when he heard the clicks of more than twenty rifles that came out from behind the curtains. He slid the pistol back in the holster. In perfect English he said, “I am here to demand your surrender.”

Richardson laughed hard. As she did, the sound of helicopters and other equipment filled the air around the building. “General, that’s funny. I suggest you look outside and rethink your proposal.”

General Hu was not used to being addressed in this manner, especially by a woman, but he could hear everything outside. He calmly walked to the curtains and a Marine pulled them back.

The whole building was surrounded by Apache and Cobra attack helicopters. Behind that, Ospreys were landing and discharging troops. A ring of M-1 tanks was wheeling in around the thirty trucks he had come with, and American troops were pouring out of every building. It had been a trap and he fell for it. It was a dejected man who turned to face General Richardson.

“General, we have been following your convoy through most of the mountains pulling off trucks one at a time. You were making so much dust you didn’t notice. My tanks have taken over the roads leading to Pyongyang and I will be entering the city within a few days. You can do nothing to stop it. Even if you shoot me right now, there are others who will take my place,” said Richardson. She stood and walked up to the man. “Your people are being well treated and will come to no harm. This fight is over. If you will follow these gentlemen you will be taken to a secure place.”

Hu looked at her hard. “You are not asking for a surrender?”

Richardson pulled the curtain back again. “General, do you see anything to surrender?”

The two walked out of the building and he climbed into her Humvee after exchanging salutes. After the vehicle left, Richardson turned to a Colonel on her staff. “Have the troops continue on to Pyongyang and take up positions as planned. I’m going back to Seoul and check in. I’ll catch up later this evening,” she said. The two exchanged salutes and the General climbed aboard an Osprey for the short flight back to Seoul.

The MASH unit was operating out of portable field hospital tents set up just outside Seoul. The doctors worked on Ricks for five hours before having him wheeled into an intensive care unit. The surgeon walked out of the operating theater and slowly pulled the cap off his head. In some ways the MASH units were exactly like the television show. They took in badly mangled bodies and fixed them up to go to a larger hospital. In Ricks’ case, both legs had to be amputated just below the knee. He had tried to make things work, but they were so badly crushed he couldn’t restore blood flow to the feet. The things had popped like a watermelon being hit by a car. As he came out of the tent, two men were standing there waiting for him. Though tired, the doctor was always there to help.

“Hello, Colonel, what can I do for you today?” he asked.

“Doctor, we are waiting to hear about a sergeant named Ricks. Do you know if he’s out of surgery?”

The doctor was somewhat surprised. It was seldom that a wounded man got senior officer attention. And the man with him was a sergeant major. “Yes, he’s out. Why don’t you come with me?”

Hearing the noise of something landing at a pad, the doctor took the men into another climate-controlled tent and they sat down. “I just got out of surgery with your Sergeant Ricks. Unfortunately we had to remove both his legs. There was just no way to save them,” he said. He saw the pained reaction on the faces of the two men. “He lost a ton of blood, but we were able to replace it. His other vital signs are coming back. I was able to save about eight inches of his tibia and fibula so that it will be easier for him to wear a prosthetic. The rest of the cuts and bruises we were able to sew up with no problem. The big thing now is to watch him a few days in case of infection and then ship him home.” The doctor could tell his words were not helping the men, but he continued on. “Look, guys, I did my best. At least he’s alive and he can learn to walk again,” the doctor said.

“It’s OK, Doc,” said Hufham. “It’s just that Ricks has been with us since the very day this thing started. He’s got a new wife down in Pusan and…” he muttered out before stopping.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” asked Peterson.

“Not at present. When he wakes up he’ll need a lot of support. Losing limbs is pretty traumatic for a guy. If you can keep checking in when you can, I can let you know when he comes around, then maybe we can get his wife up to be with him. We won’t be moving him for a while,” he said.

The door opened and General Richardson walked in. Glancing over she saw Peterson and Hufham stand and went over to greet them. “Hello, Colonel, Sergeant Major. I was looking for you. What are you guys doing here?”

Peterson introduced the doctor and then broke the bad news.

“This is the Ricks who….” she asked.

“Yes, Ma’am. The doctor just had to amputate both his legs. But he’ll be fine,” said Peterson.

Richardson closed her eyes and hung her head a moment. “Guys, I’m sorry. Doctor, if there is anything that man needs, including a private plane flight to the States, you tell me and it will get done. I would appreciate updates on his condition if I may. Just make sure he recovers from this,” she said forcefully.

“We’re doing that already, General. I’ll get him through.”

“Good man. Is he awake?”

“No, General, that may take a while. He was pretty beat up. I’ll let you know when he wakes at the same time I let these guys know,” the doctor said.

“I appreciate it,” she said shaking his hand. “Now if I may drag these guys away?” she asked while pulling Peterson and Hufham aside. It was a sad thing the men had nearly lost one of their own, but now she needed to know about the mission.

The technicians were loaded onto a train making its way to Yuktae-dong. The passenger car they rode was plain and utilitarian; very different from the car just behind them. The American-made Pullman car had all the amenities for a head of state. It had been a gift from the People’s Republic of China when North Korea had become a nation. The heavily cushioned seats and polished surfaces were far above what the ordinary citizen used. Yet the fabrics were dated and looked a little worn. Cloth covers hid the rough spots making it look like some old grandmother’s parlor. Kim, Choi, and several others sat in the chairs and dozed as the diesel train made its way along the lines. The track had been covered and it would be difficult for anyone to see the train on the tracks.

“How much longer until we arrive?” Kim asked.

“Four more hours, Comrade Chairman,” said an older man who made sure their every need was fulfilled.

Kim rose and walked back to his sleeping cabin. “Do not wake me until we arrive,” he said before closing the door behind him.

“Chris, how about taking the North Carolina a little farther north tonight and see if you can find anything going on,” said Hammond over the secure communications line. “I’m going to move up towards Hamhung and I’m sending Alabama up towards Tanchon. If you can take a look at the base in Yuktae-dong we can move a little closer to the border tomorrow night, over.”

“I’ll change course right away. The way things are going I doubt we’ll actually find anything. From the satellite feed we are about to take Pyongyang, over,” said Captain Hustvedt.

“That may be true, but we still got to earn our pay. I just have a feeling we might miss something, over.”

“You know I have been feeling the same way. I should arrive at the base about 2000, over.”

“Roger that. Let me know if you find anything. Sierra Whiskey out,” Hammond said signing off. “XO, let’s head north. We’ll cruise in our sector a little tonight then head up toward China. That might get interesting,” he said.

“Never know, they might come out and play with us a little,” Davis said. “Did you see the message about us having a visitor in a couple of days?”

“Yep. Didn’t say who it was but said it was a Washington delegation. I’m getting tired of VIPs.”

“No rest for the wicked. I’ll get us headed north,” Davis said. He got up from his seat in Strike and headed for the bridge.

Hammond sat back. The war was moving rapidly now. It probably wouldn’t be long before it was over. He thought about going back home, even though it would mean putting the ship back in mothballs. He rubbed his hand along a steel support on the bulkhead. She sure was a good one. Then there was Patricia Crowell. He smiled at himself. The remainder of the afternoon was spent finishing the ton of paperwork that never seemed to go away.

The helicopter flared and landed at the MASH landing pad. Hufham exited the machine followed by Su Lynn. She looked ashen as she was led through the myriad of tents to the intensive care unit. The doctor recognized Hufham and came over. Hufham introduced him to Su Lynn.

“Sergeant Ricks is still improving. There’s no sign of infection, but he still hasn’t regained consciousness. He did have a little bit of a concussion, but I doubt that is the cause. In his case, it’s probably just his body healing itself,” the doctor said warmly.

“May I go see?” Su Lynn asked.

The doctor smiled. “Sure. Go on in and stay as long as you want,” he said to them. “If you need anything, just ask.”

The two walked into the walled off room. Ricks lay on a hospital bed with tubes running into his arms and one up through his nose. Another set of wires was running under his gown to a monitor showing his breathing and heart rates.

When she saw him, she began to weep. To Hufham, it seemed strange that someone could weep without making a sound, but the tears flowed, her mouth moved, and her chest heaved all the same. She took Ricks’ hand in her own and held it to her face as she sat beside the bed. She looked at his face, wishing for the eyes to open, then lay her head against his side and let it pour out.

Hufham watched for a while then placed his hand on her shoulder. She took his hand and held it a moment, sharing her pain. After a few more minutes the tears subsided and the sobbing eased. Hufham pulled out a Kleenex and handed it to her. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. Then she resumed looking into her husband’s face.

“Paul, why people like Dale get hurt?” she asked after she regained herself.

Hufham let out a sigh. Even he struggled with an answer to that one. “Su Lynn, there are always people in this world who want to hurt others. Sometimes it’s for power, sometimes it’s for hate, and sometimes it’s just because they want to. It doesn’t matter why, they just do it. Hitler did it. Napoleon, Hussein, Pol Pot, Amin, the list goes on. And they would go on hurting people until someone stands up and says stop. Even good people sometimes do things that hurt others, even though they don’t really mean to. That’s one of the things you have to always look out for; making sure the things you do don’t lead to somebody getting hurt.

“Well, Dale is one of the guys to stand up and say stop. For a long time our country has been doing that. We said stop to the British, stop to the Europeans trying to control the Americas, stop to the Spanish, stop to Germany and Japan, stop to the North Koreans one time before, stop to terrorists; we’ve said stop a lot of times. And we’ve had to say stop to ourselves a few times too. We stopped slavery, stopped racism, and even stopped ourselves when we got into a war and then found out it was for all the wrong reasons. Somewhere along the way someone said we needed to stop, and we did our best to make sure it did stop. This time, it was the North Koreans again. They wanted to hurt people, not only you, but our people in the United States as well. That’s why guys like Dale and me are here — to get it to stop.

“You see, if you don’t make them stop, the pain and suffering never ends. So everybody has to make a choice. You ask the question: Is what’s going on okay or does it need to stop? That’s why when those soldiers were trying to rape you, we stepped in. If we hadn’t you might not be married to this great guy. So what we do is very important. We are here to make sure no one gets hurt and no one gets bullied. When they do, we are here to say stop. In this case, Dale got hurt. But sometimes that happens to people trying to do the right thing.”

Su Lynn nodded. She still didn’t understand it all, but she knew Dale was trying to do the right things. That was enough. It was a side of Ricks she was only now getting to know and cherish.

A nurse came in carrying a cot and laid it beside the bed. “The doctor said you were welcome to stay with your husband at night if you want,” he said. Another nurse brought in some blankets and pillows.

“Thank you,” Su Lynn said. After a few more minutes of talking, Hufham left Su Lynn with Ricks. She sat up holding his hand and talking to him for over an hour before lying on the cot and pulling the blankets over her. She didn’t sleep much, but she was where she needed to be.