Jeff Shaara - The Frozen Hours

Just prior to March 1, 1951, Smith receives word that he will be replaced in command, though he is allowed to continue throughout the April offensives. On May 1, with the Marines’ position secure, Smith is relieved, replaced by Major General Jerry Thomas.

Upon leaving his command, Smith is awarded South Korea’s highest military honor, the Korean Order of Military Merit, presented by President Syngman Rhee. Smith leaves Korea for Hawaii, where he is awarded the Navy Distinguished Service Medal. He also receives confirmation of his Navy Distinguished Service Cross, the medal Ned Almond had attempted to give him at Hagaru-ri.

Expecting to be called to Washington, a custom for commanders returning from a war zone, he is instead ordered to Camp Pendleton, California. Smith begins to understand that disagreeable currents are flowing through the capital, and he writes to his wife, “The atmosphere of Washington has not changed. All hands are still spending a lot of their time fending against the other fellows. There is still the search for the hidden meaning behind the words.”

As Smith is never a self-promoter, he is confronted by the egos and sensitivities of his peers, including his superiors, notably Lemuel Shepherd. Shepherd is enormously popular, as well as ambitious, and anticipates being promoted as commandant of the Marine Corps, replacing the soon-to-retire Clifford Cates, the highest-ranking Marine. But as Smith’s accolades pile up, including prominent mention in stateside newspapers, it is clear to Shepherd and every other high-ranking officer in the Corps that Oliver Smith is the newest and most recognized Marine hero. Shepherd begins to feel that Smith is jockeying for the job of commandant, something Smith denies. But the fragility of the egos around Smith prove ugly, and he is rarely invited to speak, and thus be celebrated, at official military or governmental functions. Rather, Smith is excluded from official Marine Corps operations and policy discussions, and the reputation he earns in Korea fades into history. Historian David Halberstam describes Smith as “one of the great, quiet heroes of the Korean War.”

Smith’s wife, Esther, joins him at Camp Pendleton, where Smith is instrumental in creating the Marine facility at Twenty-nine Palms, now the nation’s largest Marine Corps installation. While at Pendleton, Hollywood approaches him, enlisting Smith’s input into what becomes the film Retreat—Hell!, which is released in 1952. The film is well received, and Variety describes the film as “a top-notch war drama.” Smith quietly acknowledges that the title, attributed to his now-famous quote, is a bit more graphic than what he had actually uttered. Hollywood ignores the comment.

After two years at Pendleton, he is named to command of the Atlantic Fleet Marine Force, in Norfolk, Virginia. Still considered a threat to the ambitions of other higher-ranking Marine officers, Smith does not seek any further advancement, content to spend his remaining time in the Corps with men his junior. Those relationships become some of the most important of his life, and he is surprised at the impact he has made on so many subordinates. He retires in 1955, and while attending the obligatory farewell dinners, Smith is astounded by the outpouring of affection he receives from junior officers, who are quite clear just what his influence has been, and how he should be remembered. He tells a friend, “From a purely personal standpoint, what has given me the greatest satisfaction has been the discovery, sometimes inadvertently, that I have enjoyed the respect and confidence of those who have served under my command.”

He and Esther settle in Los Altos, California, an idyllic retirement for a man who has endured unimaginable pressures as a combat commander. “Retirement has some compensations: no deadlines to meet, no speeches to write, no wondering when some untoward incident will upset the apple cart, and time to do some of the things you have not had time to do while on active duty.” But the pleasant retirement with his wife and closest friend is not to last, as Esther dies in 1964.

Contenting himself with gardening and the occasional visit from a military historian, Smith dies in his sleep on Christmas night, 1977. He is eighty-four. In his home office, on the wall behind his desk, is a map of the Chosin Reservoir.

“I know of no officer in the U. S. Marine Corps who has contributed more to the splendid reputation of that service than General Smith. He is without a doubt, one of the ablest generals of his time.”

“There was a magnificent leader, that O. P. Smith.”

PRIVATE FIRST CLASS PETE RILEY

He continues to serve Fox Company, and in January 1951 is promoted to corporal. Promoted again to sergeant in 1952, he serves until February 1953, when a vehicle accident causes severe injury to his back. Riley is discharged and returns home to southern Pennsylvania.

Unknown to Riley, his friend Hamilton Welch recommends him for a Bronze Star, which Riley receives in 1955.

In 1956, Ruthie gives birth to their second child, a daughter, Annabelle. Their son, Peter, graduates from Cornell University in 1969, completes a doctorate at Stanford, and is today a prominent physicist.

Riley finds employment with a major fruit processing plant, remains on that job for twenty-six years, retiring in 1979. Always active in veterans’ reunions, he and Ruthie settle in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, where he becomes a licensed battlefield guide for the National Park Service. He retires from that activity in 2005, and he and Ruthie enjoy a peaceful life to this day.

In 2007, Riley fulfills a lifelong dream when he satisfies the necessary requirements and finally receives his high school diploma.

SERGEANT HAMILTON “HAMP” WELCH

Welch returns home to Corning, New York, but finds little to keep him there. He follows Pete Riley’s advice and allows Ruthie Riley to open doors into a social life. Settling in Chambersburg, Pennsylvania, Welch finds employment at a lumberyard and eventually lands a position as a park ranger at Harper’s Ferry National Military Park. At Ruthie’s urging, Welch begins a relationship with Doris Brown, and the two are married in March 1957. They have three children.

Welch retires in 1985, devotes time to fly-fishing in the streams across Pennsylvania and beyond. He dies of heart disease in 2004, at age eighty-one.

PRIVATE FIRST CLASS JOE MORELLI

The young man serves Fox Company throughout the remainder of the war and is discharged from the Marine Corps as a corporal in 1954. He returns to his family’s home in New Jersey and settles in New Brunswick, where he applies to and attends Rutgers University. He graduates in 1959 with a degree in political science and remains at Rutgers as an instructor and then a full professor until his retirement in 1997.

In 1957, Morelli marries Gina Costello, and they have six children. He dies in 2011, of cancer.

PRIVATE FIRST CLASS SEAN KILLIAN

Killian recovers from his damaging case of frostbite, which leaves him with a severe limp for the rest of his life. He returns home to New York, eventually settles in Vero Beach, Florida. He and his brother open a hardware store, which offers him a moderate income for most of his adult life.

In 1955, his wife, Colleen, gives birth to a daughter. Colleen dies of cancer in 1981.

Killian retires, sells the business in 2000, and lives today in Stuart, Florida.

PRIVATE FIRST CLASS HECTOR CAFFERATA

Cafferata is sent to a hospital in Japan where he recovers from the severe damage to his feet from his barefoot combat experience on Fox Hill. The wounds to his hand from an exploding grenade are not reparable, and Cafferata endures crippled fingers for the rest of his life. His actions on Fox Hill are considered extraordinary. During the night of November 27, 1950, Cafferata fends off nearly a full battalion of Chinese soldiers, killing a good many of them. By recovering and throwing the grenade that damages his hand, he likely saves the lives of several of his comrades, all without the benefit of his shoes or coat.