March of Warriors

Summer 1950. Korea. U.S. Army soldiers are paraded through the streets of Seoul on their way to a series of improvised prison camps.  Only days removed from peacetime billets in Japan, these men were rushed to Korea in early July 1950 with vague orders to resist the invasion of North Korean forces. Largely unprepared for war, many men paid with their lives within minutes of initial contact with the enemy.  Those who could not beat a hasty retreat were captured, falling under the control of captors who had neither the temperament nor resources to maintain prisoners. The Geneva Convention - an international protocol that attempted to civilize the conduct of war - established a number of prohibitions, including the parading of prisoners for propaganda purposes. Unfortunately, the North Koreans were not signatories of the Convention.  The prisoner of war camps imposed deprivations greater than many men could bear.  Forty-three percent of American prisoners died in captivity.  For the most part, their remains are still interred in unmarked graves in North Korea.  Those who lived to be repatriated brought home emotional scars that gripped for years to come.

California Farewell

1950. San Diego, California.  This is already a well-circulated image, but it still resonates.  Accompanying facts are few, but imagination allows us to fill in the blanks.  The USC sticker in the car window hints of a peacetime life that has been postponed by the exigency of war.  Central Casting could not have provided a more photogenic couple. Yet their moment evokes poignancy devoid of theatrics. They contemplate an aircraft carrier looming before them. He will momentarily depart to board that ship. It will take him across the Pacific Ocean, where the carrier will take its place with Task Force 77 in the Sea of Japan. From there, the ship and its crew will participate in the Korean War. He is an officer.  He could be a pilot, but the ship requires officers for many other roles as well. We know that she will await his return.

To the Victors Go the Spoils

Late 1940s. Japan. As soon as World war II came to a close, American and allied forces initiated what would become a seven year occupation of Japan.  The occupation involved upwards of 350,000 American troops, complemented by lesser numbers of British Commonwealth personnel. They were charged with demobilizing Japan's residual military infrastructure and keeping civic order through the ensuing economic reconstruction.  

Having endured four years of ferocious warfare in the Pacific, Americans were astonished that the Japanese offered no practical resistance to their occupiers.  What else could the Japanese do? With a destroyed economy and homelessness at 30 percent, the people of Japan sought opportunity by cooperating with the occupation forces. One of the earliest and most robust opportunities for the Japanese was to offer hospitality services, including restaurants, bars, shops, and ...personal services. 

American military personnel were very young; about half were teenagers. They had plenty of disposable income in a land where a little money went a long way. The Japanese learned to tweak their traditional products and services, making them more amenable to American consumers.  The photo above shows an American soldier enjoying bath house services, in this case administered by a lovely female "customer service" agent.

These same young men would serve as the vanguard of U.S. forces committed to the Korean War after June 25, 1950.  

Not Forgotten

Summer 1950. Korea.  This is one of the more iconic images to emerge from the Korean War.  We see one soldier comforting another who just learned that his best friend was killed in action.  In the background is a medical corpsman tending casualty tags.  I share this because September 12 approaches.  On that date in this year, 2018, we recognize the 68th anniversary of the loss of Pvt. Philip Hughes, killed in action in the vicinity of Hill 300, Kyongju, South Korea. There is no photograph that records the aftermath of Philip's demise.  This image will have to suffice as substitute for him and the 34,000 other Americans whose lives were claimed by that war.  

A Pensive Cast-off

Photo by Carl Mydans

Mid July 1950.  These are a sampling of 1st Cavalry Division men aboard an LST bound for Korea.  These men will land unopposed on July 18 on the beach at Pohang-dong on South Korea's east coast.  As this picture was taken, they knew little about the war except that it was only about 20 days old and it was not going well at all.  They gather at the railing, pondering the sudden end of their easy occupation duties as they watch the methodical retrieval of mooring lines on the dock below.  The 1st Cav would soon take its place on the Pusan Perimeter, bolstering the tattered remnants of the 24th Infantry Division that preceded them into combat. These were "cavalrymen" in name only; they functioned like any other infantry division, proceeding to war either on foot or courtesy of a GMC "deuce-and-a-half" truck.

Lifeline on Rails

Photo courtesy of the Doug Price collection.

C. 1950-51.  In a strategic sense, the rail yard in Pusan was the most valuable real estate in South Korea during the Korean War.  At the time, the nation's road network was insufficient to support the volume and variety of heavy traffic needed to sustain the U.N. forces combatting North Korea's incursion. Transportation was best achieved on the Korean rail network, developed by the Japanese during their occupation of Korea during the first half of the 20th century.  

In 1950, with the advent of the Korean War, U.S. and allied planners immediately recognized the strategic value of these railroads.  For military purposes, the port city of Pusan was the heart of this network, because it was here that maritime cargo would be transshipped to the railroads' rolling stock.

The majority of military personnel introduced to Korea approached the front lines as close as could be practically achieved by rail. Their journeys started in Pusan, which at the same time was the ultimate collection point of Korean refugees displaced by war. These refugees arrived in Pusan with few resources.  To a large extent, they survived by begging, bartering, or scavenging the refuse generated by the American and other U.N. armies.  

Thus is the setting for this photograph. For the thousands of Americans who served in Korea, their first encounter with the Korean people was achieved in this manner.

KATUSAs to the Rescue!

Desperation sometimes begets innovation.  So it was for the U.S. Eighth Army during the opening months of the Korean War.  Late 1940s budget austerity meant that most regiments entered the war at only two-thirds strength.  While replacements were thrown into the fray as quickly as possible, they were not enough to replenish staggering combat losses that the U.S. Army suffered through the summer of 1950.

And so Eighth Army planners devised a solution: infuse the enlisted ranks of U.S. Army units with Korean men - or as it so often was - boys.

Official nomenclature described them as "Korean Augmentation to the United States Army," which reduces to the "KATUSA" acronym.  KATUSAs would be fully integrated into the ranks of U.S. fighting units, thus establishing the means for their care, feeding, and utilization. There was some logic to this concept.  For one, there were plenty of able-bodied men available of (or near) fighting age, right there in South Korea.  And because they were native to the country, these same individuals brought knowledge of the landscape.  On the flip side was a virtually intractable language barrier.

The South Korea government, such as it was at the time, was fully complicit in this scheme.  The "drafting" of KATUSAs began in July 1950. This was often accomplished by constables who simply yanked boys off the street and pitched them onto the back of trucks.  "Basic training" was less-than rudimentary, accomplished in a matter of hours.

The 24th Infantry Division, which was the first U.S. Army unit dispatched to Korea, was in pretty bad shape by the end of August 1950.  The division was placed in reserve to provide its men time to recuperate. It was in this rest camp that KATUSAs were introduced to their organization.  There was no prescription for their use.  Instead, each unit fostered its own approach. In some cases, KATUSAs were limited to menial support tasks. In other cases, they learned to operate weapons; each would be paired with an American in a "buddy system."

The results were mixed, but worthy of refinement.  The Eighth Army continued to employ KATUSAs throughout the Korean War... and after.  The partnership with the U.S. Army remains in place to this day. Its administration is much refined, of course, as it develops a cadre of professional soldiers that become valuable additions to the Republic of Korea Army.