"These little guys are unbelievable," said a U.S. major from Pennsylvania. Said a U.S. sergeant from Seattle: "That hill was a bouncing, flaming hell. It's hard to believe that any of them could live through that shelling, let alone stay there and fight."
The battle of White Horse Hill, between stubborn Chinese Reds and equally stubborn South Koreans, was the bloodiest engagement of 1952. After six days of inconclusive seesawing, the gallant ROKs had chewed up several Chinese regiments, and the enemy had lost, in killed & wounded, an estimated 10,000 men. South Korean losses, though not announced, were also high. Major General Kim Chong Oh, commander of the ROK 9th Division, proudly praised his men: "Their stand has been valiant and exemplary."
Observers Unwanted. Early last week the Chinese attacked along two-thirds of the coast-to-coast front. It was not an offensive; it was a struggle for outposts (only a few probes were aimed at the U.N. main line, and these were easily flicked off). In one 24-hour period, the Communists fired 93,000 artillery and mortar shells—about twice their previous record for one day. U.S. Marines and the French battalion attached to the U.S. 2nd Division fought sharp engagements. But as the week wore on, the Chinese concentrated most of their fury on the fight for White Horse. The U.N. could not tolerate Chinese on the hill. It stands near the Chorwon corner of the old Communist "Iron Triangle"; from its crest, enemy observers could look across 15 miles of flatland into the heart of the Eighth Army's fortified positipns.
During the week the crest changed hands more than 20 times. Both sides had tanks and great concentrations of mortars and artillery. The ROKs also had planes—U.S. fighter-bombers that raked Chinese positions north of the hill with bombs, machine guns and napalm, while U.S. Sabres kept the enemy's MIGs away.
Battle Is the Test. In some counterattacks, South Koreans fought to the top with rifle fire and grenades, used bayonets, knives, rocks and fists when their ammo was gone. Sometimes the hand-to-hand fighting was illuminated by searchlights and flares. In darkness, the ROKs identified a man as friend or foe by yanking his cap off and feeling his head; if his head was shaved, he was Chinese.
At week's end the summit of White Horse was a churned and stinking shambles, littered with the dead of both sides. Under the torrent of shells, trenches and bunkers had disappeared. "Nobody," said a U.N. officer, "can hold the top of that hill." So long as nobody held it, White Horse was a U.N. victory.
Of far greater import than the hill itself was the fact that the new ROK army —which now outnumbers the U.S. and all other U.N. units combined—had proved itself a brave and effective fighting force. Twelve months ago, General Van Fleet began pulling the ROK units out of line for thorough training, regrouping and refitting. Recently, U.S. liaison officers have been saying that the ROKs had been metamorphosed into first-class infantry fighters. Without the test of battle, nobody could be sure. White Horse was the test.