Boot Story, Taro Leaf Magazine Issue 4 Volume 65 Fall 2011

      This is my first blogpost recording my memories serving as a Pfc, Cpl 13 Nov 51 in the Korean War. This is my story as it appeared in Taro Leaf (Edited in names) issue. Comments are extremely welcome.
Iezzoni Mario

mario8@ptd.net

               25 Dec 1951, was my last day with G Co 19^th RGT. It was the day before Christmas when I was called to the G CO CP and told to turn in my rifle and gear and move to the tent for ‘rotate-ees.’  There I met James L. Hill, George S. Maki; James C. Mastin; Daughlas Wold C;  Blake Errald M (Kennebec ME); Canody Claude E (PA/OH); Emerson Robert; Hunter Eugene; Kilgore Kenneth G; Knapp Merrill D; The next day a truck took us to the 24^th Division Rear at Ascom City for a ‘Peter Parade' our homebound processing.

               The tent was large, platoon-size. It was mostly empty except for some stretchers to be used as litters. We took advantage of this opportunity and used the stretchers to sleep on. It was my first night in Korea that I did not have to sleep on the ground! Another first…I took my boots off to sleep. It was hard to believe…no rifle, no more foxholes to dig, no more mountains to climb, no more guns shooting at me. I’m whole, in one piece. I made it! So I thought…

               At just past midnight we started receiving barrages of incoming mortar rounds. The first barrage went well over our tent but woke us up. The second barrage hit nearby and Blake Errald M; Canody Claude E; Emerson Robert; Hill James L; Hunter Eugene; Kilgore Kenneth G; Knapp Merrill D; Maki George S; Mastin James C ran out for cover. I sat on the side of the stretcher, vigorously putting on my boots; the right slid on easily but the left boot just would not go on. The mortar fire ended and I decided to give up on the boot, thinking it was over. Just then another barrage started, “C’mon, left boot.” I said to myself, “you’re going on.” KABOOM! A round hit a large, lone tree just outside the tent sending in shrapnel, just missing me. This time the boot was not a problem. I ran towards the mountain and found shelter in an old Chinese bunker.

               When a round comes that close, your body goes into a kind of vibration that lasts a long time. You don’t know if you’re all there, even though you just ran 100+ yards. With time, your feelings start to returning. You touch your hands, your feet, your legs; you feel your torso—all seems to be there. Was there any ‘big blood’ or ‘little blood’? I didn’t see any. I wonder, “Am I all OK?” I know I’m alive and mostly safe here. A couple more barrages came while I was in the bunker. I decided to stay until daylight when I noticed the Chinese bunker garlic smell. It was so strong I knew I could not stay any longer.

               My left foot was the only part of me that seemed not quite right. When I got back to our tent, all the others were already there. I sat on the side of the stretcher and took off my left boot. I felt my foot and didn’t see any blood, even when I took my sock off. I was perplexed.

               “There’s no way I can put this boot on,” I said as I tried again to slip on the boot. I must have said it loud enough for others to hear. James Hill came over and asked if I had his boot because one of his was too large. I sure did. He had put on my boot, 9 ½ , and left his 6 ½ boot for me!