The following is an excerpt by a man named Robert F. Cameron, Private First Class, USMC:
"Then I saw a sight straight out of a nightmare. Right smack in front of me was a gook facing the other way, kneeling. There was just enough light in the east now to see that he was trying to take the parka of a dead Marine, trying to work the corpse's arms out of the sleeves. The scariest thing of all was the he had heard my approach a second before I saw him. He turned his head to say something, obviously thinking I was a fellow gook. My response was to scramble up behind him, haul off with the nine-pound tripod, and swing it full force against his head. I hit him in the right temple and I only had to hit him once; his skull cracked like an eggshell.
I couldn't bring myself to look at the Marine. To me a dead Marine was a shocking and hideous sight. For one thing, I was afraid I might recognize him, might know his name. So I turned away and started down the path and - Jesus! - when I came around the bend I saw several gooks hunched around a fire. It was a blessing that their attention was on the flames and that the wind and the fire were so noisy. They didn't see me; they didn't hear me. It was like a miracle.
I have only one thing more to tell you, Mr. Russ: I was responsible for snuffing out many lives with my machine gun that night, but the only killing that haunts me was that last one. I slaughtered that man as would a common thug. Sneaking up behind this poor fellow who was trying to acquire a warm garment for himself! Bludgeoning him to death! When I had time to think about it later I was overwhelmed with shame. Up to this moment I've never mentioned it to a soul, nor have I told anyone about the dead Marine I left up there on 1403. I can still feel it in my stomach whenever I read about how proud the Marines were about bringing out most of their dead - and here I couldn't even bear to look at one dead Marine's face."
From: Breakout: The Chosin Resevoir Campaign, Korea 1950 by Martin Russ.
And so many people don't even know or care.
"Then I saw a sight straight out of a nightmare. Right smack in front of me was a gook facing the other way, kneeling. There was just enough light in the east now to see that he was trying to take the parka of a dead Marine, trying to work the corpse's arms out of the sleeves. The scariest thing of all was the he had heard my approach a second before I saw him. He turned his head to say something, obviously thinking I was a fellow gook. My response was to scramble up behind him, haul off with the nine-pound tripod, and swing it full force against his head. I hit him in the right temple and I only had to hit him once; his skull cracked like an eggshell.
I couldn't bring myself to look at the Marine. To me a dead Marine was a shocking and hideous sight. For one thing, I was afraid I might recognize him, might know his name. So I turned away and started down the path and - Jesus! - when I came around the bend I saw several gooks hunched around a fire. It was a blessing that their attention was on the flames and that the wind and the fire were so noisy. They didn't see me; they didn't hear me. It was like a miracle.
I have only one thing more to tell you, Mr. Russ: I was responsible for snuffing out many lives with my machine gun that night, but the only killing that haunts me was that last one. I slaughtered that man as would a common thug. Sneaking up behind this poor fellow who was trying to acquire a warm garment for himself! Bludgeoning him to death! When I had time to think about it later I was overwhelmed with shame. Up to this moment I've never mentioned it to a soul, nor have I told anyone about the dead Marine I left up there on 1403. I can still feel it in my stomach whenever I read about how proud the Marines were about bringing out most of their dead - and here I couldn't even bear to look at one dead Marine's face."
From: Breakout: The Chosin Resevoir Campaign, Korea 1950 by Martin Russ.
And so many people don't even know or care.
Can I borrow that?