Today marks the tenth anniversary since my grandpa, Richard Erwin, died. He was 91, he had recently had major surgery and ended up going to hospice where he died peacefully. I was 3,000 miles away doing my PhD in Dublin, Ireland. Few people had as large an impact on me as he did. He taught me how to ride a bicycle but more than that he was just there for most of my childhood being himself. I have, unsurprisingly, been reflecting on him and his impact as this anniversary approached. When I was last in Virginia I found copies in my brother’s house of some memoirs he wrote in his final years, and I thought this would be a good time to share one: in this case, his memory of his time at war.
The text below is copied from my grandpa’s memoirs. I have only cleaned up any obvious typos and removed names of my family members. Any edited text is shown in brackets. For context not covered here, my grandpa enlisted in the Marine Corps in 1942 under condition he be allowed to finish his university degree before going to boot camp. This account picks up in 1944 after he finished his studies.
“The War Years
Upon arrival at Parris Island, I was put in a platoon of other men from many states. There were 75 of us assigned to a corporal drill instructor and his assistant instructor. This was the group I lived and trained with for the next eleven weeks.
The first items we were issued were a padlock and a bucket. The lock was for our foot locker and the bucket was used for many things – washing clothes, and trash collection among many other uses.
Many tasks had to be accomplished in the eleven weeks at Parris Island. Every minute of every day was scheduled. The first day was a trip to the quartermaster to receive uniforms and other gear. The most important items we received shoes – two pairs for every day wear and one pair of dress shoes. The everyday shoes were stiff and could cause many blisters. Our drill instructor (DI) was an old experienced marine. As soon as we got back to our Quonset home he had us fill the bucket with water and put one pair of the work boots in it to soak overnight. The next morning we put on these wet boots to mold them to our feet and thus they did not cause blisters. The clothing had to be put in our wall locker in a precise fashion. If you did not do so, you kept doing it until you got it right!
We were marched to the regimental sick bay where we were given our first round of shots and a vaccination. Several men fainted when they saw the needles. They were picked up, put on a cot, and given their shots.
A lot of time was spent on close order drill on a huge asphalt paved drill ground. At times there were as many as 1,000 men in various stages of training on the field at one time. After becoming adept at close order drill (about three weeks) we marched to the armory where we were issued rifles and all the web gear that went with it (cartridge belt, back pack, etc.). We spent the next three weeks learning the manual of arms with the rifle and its care.
After six weeks at the main base, we and all our gear were marched three miles to the rifle range for a three week stay. We were taught the proper ways to handle the rifle and began firing it. After all this training we fired for record. I shot 318 points out of 340 and was awarded a sharp shooter badge. After firing the rifle we fired the .45 caliber automatic pistol, tommy gun, grease gun (a form of tommy gun), the browning automatic rifle and the carbine. After completing our three weeks at the rifle range we marched back to the main base to complete our basic training. For the final two weeks we received our last round of shots, learned hand to hand combat and more about hygiene in a combat zone. We were then put through the classification center to determine what our next assignment would be.
They really did not know what to do with me. I was a college graduate whose eyes would not pass the test to qualify for officer candidate school. I wanted to go to artillery but there were no openings at that time. They finally found out that I could read and interpret aerial photographs. Based on this discovery I was assigned to the photogrammetry school (making maps from aerial photos). I went to New River Base in North Carolina. The school was interesting because we had to learn many things – plane surveying (which I had in college), drafting, advanced aerial photo reading and interpretation, and special math that went with this work.
This all came to a halt on a rainy, humid August day when my name was called to go to the headquarters building. I was not told why I was going, except to put on clean khakis and get up there NOW! After walking in the pouring rain, I looked like a drowned rat among a large room of other men who looked as bad as I did. My name was called to go up a flight of stairs and enter a certain door. No one ever came down the stairs so I had no idea what was waiting for me when I went through the door. Stepping into the room I faced a full colonel, two captains, and two senior sergeants. The first question the colonel asked me was if I wanted to go to OCS (officers candidate school). I asked what was my other choice and I was told that I would be shipped out in the next infantry replacement draft. I said I would go to OCS.
I was shipped out to Quantico, Virginia with about 350 other men. The drop out rate was very high in OCS. About 110 of us completed it. We were commissioned and moved to ROS (reserve officers school) for the next three months. After completing ROS, we were reclassified to determine where we would be assigned. Out of the 120 who finished ROS, twelve of us were assigned to tank and amphibious tractor schools. I went to the tractor school which was at Camp Pendleton in California. All the rest of the class went to infantry school where they completed training and were sent to Iwo Jim and Okinawa where they took a very high casualty rate. After completing my training in cargo and armed amphibious tractors, I shipped out to Hawaii waiting further transfer to the combat zone.
After a brief stay in Hawaii, I boarded an aircraft carrier for further transfer to Okinawa to join my unit in preparation for the invasion of Japan. Before we got to Okinawa the war was over. The ship diverted to Guam where all of us marines were put ashore. My unit returned from Okinawa shortly after I arrived on Guam. The marines immediately began to downsize to its peace time size which was to be two divisions and one brigade all of which stayed on Guam. All the men who had enough points were shipped home. Some Marines were formed into occupying units and shipped to China. Fortunately I was assigned to the brigade. My unit stayed on Guam until February, 1946.
One the way home from Guam, our aircraft carrier ran through the edge of a typhoon. The waves were huge (60-70 feet high) and the wind blew at a very high velocity. We were told to stay below decks because if we went topside we could be washed overboard from which we could not be rescued. An aircraft carrier was a large ship but it was tossed about like a small rowboat. When it ran into a large wave it was as if it had run into a stone wall. We were served cold sandwiches and water for food because it was too rough for hot food or drink to be prepared. The storm lasted about four days. I spent most of my time in my bunk since, when walking, one could be thrown around and injured. After the storm it was discovered that many of the above deck antennae and aerials had been blown away. Several small vessels, destroyers, tugs, mine sweepers, etc. had been sunk with a complete loss of life. We landed at San Diego and were transported to Camp Pendleton where I remained on active duty until June when I was finally released from active duty.
From my length of military service I had about six years of schooling coming to me under the GI Bill. I applied and was accepted at graduate school at the University of California at Davis. I spent one strenuous year of study and research and received my masters degree. At Davis I met [his wife]. After graduation I accepted a position with the Department of the Interior, Bureau of Reclamation. I worked in Bakersfield on the Central Valley irrigation project. [My grandma] wanted to complete one more year of college before we got married.
After we were married on October 16, 1948 we moved to Yerington, Nevada where I had accepted a job with the USDA. After a few months in Nevada I transferred back to the Department of the Interior. After [my oldest uncle] was born, we lived in our first home in Delano. This was a perfect place to live and I enjoyed my work. On a bright, clear day in November [my grandma] came to my office with orders from the marines recalling me to active duty.
The recall was a great shock to us. I had thirty days before reporting. We experienced a somber and subdued Christmas. On December 31 [1950] I went to Los Angeles for a physical exam to determine if I could go on active duty. You had to be dead to fail the physical! Since the next day was a holiday nothing was happening on base. On January 2, 1951 I was finally told what I was to do. [My grandma] drove home by herself to move out of our house so we could rent it. She drove back with [my uncle] and we found a rental in Vista, outside of San Diego.
Since I was a qualified amphibious tractor officer, I was assigned to train other marines about the tractors. They wanted to keep me at the base but there was no position open for me so I was moved to a place where replacements were assembled for shipment to Korea. I was given a company of men from all units except infantry. After about three weeks we were taken by bus to San Diego to board a ship for Korea.
After 18 miserable days on a miserable ship we arrived in Kobe, Japan. At Kobe we left all of our dress uniforms and other nonessential gear and then sailed to Pusan, Korea. My unit was broken up and the men and officers were sent to various other units.
I was sent with about 30 enlisted men to the 1st amphibian tractor battalion at Masan, Korea. After three weeks, I was given 40 enlisted men and one corpsman to go on detached duty with the first division which was fighting up north. It took us about five days by truck to reach the outfit we were to relieve. We were on detached duty for the next seven months.
A collection of photos my grandpa took while he was in Masan. My cousin uploaded them to Wikimedia. I’m not aware of him having taken any other photos during the war years, but some may turn up in some uncle’s basement some day.
The unit we relieved was the first provisional athey trailer platoon. It consisted of 25 D-8 caterpillar tractors and 25 athey trailers. The job was to be a “trucking” unit that could reach places trucks could not go. We usually hauled 500 tons of ammunition. At other times we would haul food, water, engineering supplies, or the wounded.
Our living conditions varied but were all bad. The best was when we were able to sleep in tents. At other times we just slept in the open or under the trailers. We were attached to an ordinance battalion for meals and, if needed, medical help in times of serious illness or injury. There were no provisions for bathing so whenever possible we would take a bath in a river. On one occasion we stopped by a high bank where a giant water wheel was located. The water came over the bank and over the water wheel to make it turn. We decided to stop the water wheel so the water came through it like a shower. The men said that since I was the officer I could bathe first. I stripped and stepped into the wheel. The water was so cold it almost made my heart stop. One of the men climbed up to see the source of the water. The stream came from under a large snow bank. That was the end of bathing that day!
We moved all around the area of the 38th parallel. There were some exciting moments but I was proud that I had only one injured man and no one was killed. There weren’t many funny or humorous moments but there were two that I think are worth telling. On one occasion we had reached our destination about two in the morning and were settling in to sleep. Part of the men were on guard duty and the rest asleep. I had just crawled under a trailer to sleep when a man came running to me yelling “they are coming”. We set up all four automatic weapons and settled in for a fight. We had heard that the communists often attacked at night carrying lamps and candles. We could see this large bunch of lights coming toward us. I told the men not to fire until I gave the order. It seemed weird that it was totally quiet. We waited and suddenly found ourselves surrounded by fireflies. You could hear gallons of adrenalin draining away.
When we received orders to turn in our equipment and return to our home unit in Southern Korea we had to take our tractors and trailers to an army salvation depot. We had one tractor that was inoperable we had been salvaging parts to keep the other tractors going. I asked for a tank trailer to haul the inoperable tractor. I was told that it was up to me to get it to the salvage depot any way I could. You could tow it or push it for 30 miles. I discussed the situation with my sergeant. His comment was that we only had to get it to the depot and it was the army’s problem once it got there. We had a bulldozer dig a ramp in front of the disabled vehicle. A tractor carefully pushed it over a steel decked trailer. We had a welder from the engineering battalion crawl under the tractor and weld its tracks to the steel deck. When we got to the salvage depot we quickly had the army account for 25 tractors and trailers. Once we had a receipt from them we quickly got on our truck and went back to the marine division. We often wondered what the army did when they found that tractor would not run and it was welded to the trailer.
Once we had turned in our tractors and trailers, we gathered up our personal gear and scrounged rides on airplanes back to Southern Korea to our home unit. This concluded my seven month adventure in Northern Korea.
In December 1951 I was given orders to return to the USA. We gathered in Japan to board a luxurious troop ship for the trip home. Great food!! I was a captain at the time and was told that when we reached Treasure Island I would have about 2,000 regular marines assigned to me and had to see that they were processed and sent to their next duty station. I can’t really describe the SNAFU that ensued from that operation. After one week of many glitches and frustrations all the men were processed. The next day I got my orders back to inactive duty. I immediately reserved a seat on the train home. It was a wonderful reception for all, especially to see [my oldest uncle] and how he had grown and [my second oldest uncle] who was born while I was in Korea.
About six months later I was able to resign my commission and sever my relations with the marine corps. It was a great experience but not one I would want for my own sons. It taught me self reliance and how to work alone in various situations.
Of the whole experience the one most memorable to me was coming back to San Francisco and sailing under the Golden Gate at sunrise. I was home, unwounded, and ready to get on with my life.”
My Grandpa told us some other stories about his time in Korea during the war years. He generally avoided talking about any really gruesome stories, although he did hint at having seen some real violence in addition to what he was telling us about. The only other story I remember was his description of accidentally spending a night behind enemy lines due to the unit getting slightly lost - thankfully all they suffered was a sleepless night. He also had stories about life back at camp waiting to ship home - and the incredible boredom of it. He did describe some minor hijinks that make it no surprise that M.A.S.H. was his favorite show. I don’t want to try and tell those stories from memory, though, and instead will limit this post to focusing on my grandpa’s own reminiscences.
Remembering my grandpa and reading on his war time experience has triggered a greater interest in the Korean War as a subject. I have decided to begin a small project to learn more about the Korean War and to play some games about it. You can read more about that elsewhere on this website.