situation there or anywhere else, with a long string of demands. Among them was confession of past crimes against POW's, a pledge to recognize Communist organizations and control of the POW's, and agreement 'to stop torturing and mistreating prisoners to make them say they are anti-Communist.'
It was the old 'have you stopped beating your wife?' technique, and Charlie Colson walked into it.
Colson knew the Communist demands and allegations were ridiculous; he was completely aware that no such torment or abuse of POW's had ever taken place. He was not aware that when the demands, repeated by the newsmen now deserting the barren front for Koje-do in droves, were wired across the world, millions of people said, 'Where there is smoke there must be fire,' and that Nam II in Panmunjom was shrieking, in joyous and righteous rage:
'… These criminal acts committed by your side under the name of voluntary repatriation thoroughly violate the Geneva Convention relating to prisoners of war and repudiate the minimum standard of human behavior!'
And, 'Your side must bear the full and absolute responsibility for the safety of our captured personnel!'
The editor of
.…
Communist press and spokesmen were having a propaganda field day, while the plaintive demands coming over the single strand of thin wire from inside Compound 76 seemed to back up everything they claimed. 'Please stop torturing us, and we'll give you your general back.'
These plans, if carried through, would make Koje an island of death indeed.
When spring came, the 2nd Infantry Division had its turn off line again, while the 40th—one of the two National Guard Divisions sent to FECOM in 1951-and the 7th took over its zone below the Iron Triangle. The division returned to Kap'yong, and from here it spread to many places, fulfilling the typical missions of an American division in reserve. The 9th Infantry, minus 3rd Battalion, took up blocking positions west of the Hwach'on Reservoir, meanwhile carrying on aggressive training. The entire 38th Regiment, plus 3/9, embarked for Koje-do, which was reported to be rocked by riots and insubordination. The 2/23, meanwhile, marched to Sangdong to guard valuable tungsten mines. Several individual companies went to provide security for IX Corps HQ, and for a guerrilla-beset radio station. Divarty went over to support the 9th ROK Division, and the 72nd Tank moved back on Heartbreak Ridge, under X Corps.
On line or off, there was little rest in Korea. The division had received 4,466 replacements for rotated men, and these must trained.
The top command changed; the high brass played musical chairs, too. General Young left and Brigadier General James C. Fry took command on 4 May, with full pomp and ceremony at the division airstrip.
With the easing of combat pressure at the front, pomp and ceremonies were rapidly returning. Units remained stable for long periods now, and everywhere flagpoles went up, rocks were painted, and areas policed and improved. Divisions built show-type war rooms out of plywood, and stationed MP's with burnished stainless steel helmets outside them. Bands, no longer needed to carry wounded and the like, could indulge in concerts, while more and more troops, with less and less to do, could be kept busy on the fiddling details normal to garrison life.
The Army fatigue uniform, in World War II a work and combat uniform, utilitarian and unadorned, became a wonder to behold. Starched, pressed with creases, complete with sewn unit patches and colored name tags, it became more colorful than the OD semidress. Soon, even in the combat zone, the old, sloppy fatigue cap was taboo—now caps had to have stiffeners to make them like that of General Ridgway. For one buck American, GI's and officers could buy a locally made stiff fatigue cap, which was simpler than trying to put a stiffener in the GI- issue kind.
Sometimes, when an army cannot go, it turns to show. At any rate, the Korean economy benefited.
It was at this time that Brigadier General Boatner went to Japan on R&R. He had word that his son, Second Lieutenant James G. Boatner, was coming to FECOM—'Destination Evil,' as the coded orders read.
In Tokyo, Boatner talked to the personnel people. He wanted to make certain his son did not come to the 2nd Division; that would be unfair. But he didn't want young James to end up in the 40th or 45th, one of the National Guard Divisions either. The personnel people laughed at that, and asked, 'Well, where?'
James Boatner had been born in the 15th Infantry, in Tientsin. It was finally decided to send him to the 3rd Division, one of the Army's proudest units, and parent of the 15th Regiment.
On 11 May, Boatner was in the Tokyo Main PX, when he was paged over the store loudspeaker. 'Brigadier General Boatner, please come to the office—'
There he was informed that his presence was earnestly desired at the
Now, what had been going on at Koje-do had been in all the papers for some days. The Bull was deflated. 'My God, how do I get out of it?'
'You don't. General Clark is ready to see you immediately—and a plane is standing by to take you there in one hour,' Key said. 'Can you make it?'
'If those are my orders,' Boatner said morosely, 'of course I can make it.'
It was the lunch hour, but he was ushered in to see General Mark Wayne Clark, the new FECOM commander, who had just replaced Ridgway, who was off to Europe to command NATO.
Wayne Clark, long-nosed and schoolmasterish in appearance, had had the fifth Army in Italy, and now, coming into Japan, he was absolutely flabbergasted by what had happened at Koje-do. He told Boatner he felt the American Army had been disgraced. He had just visited the island with the departing Ridgway, and he had been horrified at the lack of discipline and control over the rioting POW's
'I'm putting you there, and you take command!' he said. He was very clear.
He made no mention of General Van Fleet, who had expected to take over Tokyo from Eighth Army, a la Ridgway, and who was reputed to be somewhat cool toward Clark. He made it clear that Boatner was to take his direction straight from the top.
Finally, he said, 'Any questions?'
Bull Boatner, no politician but also no fool, was well aware that the great trouble with Koje-do was that the hands of all previous commanders had been tied. He said: 'Yes, sir, I fear the situation is so bad over there, the POW's out of control to such an extent, that it will require bloodshed to restore control.'
Clark said, 'I agree absolutely. I expect bloodshed, and I'll support you.'
Boatner then asked for a competent law officer who was thoroughly conversant with the Geneva Conventions, and Clark said he would order the G-1 to provide such.
Outside Clark's office, Boatner went immediately to Lieutenant General Doyle Hickey, the Chief of Staff. It was customary that any officer coming from the commander's office briefed the Chief of Staff on the substance of the conversation—and Boatner had his special reasons, too.
He made very certain that Hickey understood that Clark had agreed to bloodshed on Koje-do.
Then he talked with the next two men in line, Major General Whitfield Sheperd and Major General Ryan, to have them on record that strong measures were called for.
That night, he arrived by plane in Pusan, and was hosted by Brigadier General Paul F. Yount, CG of the 2nd Logistical Command, which had jurisdiction over Koje-do. Frank Dodd was in Pusan, in Yount's HQ, on his way to Tokyo and Mark Clark. Dodd, ill with ulcers, was drinking milk sent over from Japan—there was no fresh milk in Korea—and he seemed a shaken man, heading for disgrace and demotion.
Yount briefed Boatner as best he could, though Boatner didn't get too much out of him. The main thing Yount was angry about, in all this uproar, was that friendly aircraft had recently strafed Koje, and Yount was furious over this.
Staying at Pusan overnight, Boatner went on to the island, and was ushered into General Charlie Colson's office the next day. Boatner had never met Colson, but Colson had been a classmate of his older brother, and now
