On l5 September, 1950, our Army, Navy and Marines conducted an audacious but highly successful seaborne invasion through the 18 foot tides at the Port of Inchon ... far, far behind the enemy's then-current front lines.

We were cheered to hear that Kimpo airfield was recaptured on the first day of the offensive and the troops were moving to retake the city of Seoul. On the following morning, I was elated as I took off from our newly-reactivated Pusan air base (designated: 'K-9') with a flight of four F-51 Mustangs, into the morning scud which remained from the recent passage of Typhoon 'Kezia', searching for likely targets along the perimeter area west and north of our beleaguered Taegu base.

But with the continuing pressure by the Red troops in the south, taking more and more South Korean territory as they continued to outflank us around the southwest coast, we couldn't help but wonder if the results of the Inchon landings might be anti-climactic ... just a few days too late... and that we might yet be forced to evacuate our newly-opened base at Pusan before the results of the Inchon pressure could be realized.

Our flight ranged northwesterly, following the Naktong River to Sonsan, just west of Taegu, where, as we topped the crest of the near bank, I absolutely could not believe what I found . a panic-stricken Red Army was running headlong, trying to wade across the summer-shallow river ... out in the open, in broad daylight. And, for the time being at least, few slowed to shoot at us.

I maneuvered our four Mustangs northward a short distance, to a flat, level area where we could swing around while remaining at low level, positioning ourselves to release our eight napalm bombs onto the river upstream of the massed North Korean troops, allowing the flaming, floating jellied-gasoline to spread and engulf the full width of the shallow river ... and the enemy troops therein.

We separated into pairs for subsequent attacks, which we flew repeatedly back and forth along the river banks, strafing as we went, taking turns to keep from interfering with each others' gunnery patterns. The Naktong River was soon "flowing red", literally, with the blood of a thousand routed North Korean troops.

Working my way still further north, into a narrow canyon between two steep hills, I found a group of Red soldiers trying to pull a truck across the river on

a small raft attached to a long cable stretched to the western shore. I was able to take a bead on the truck by simply turning a few degrees, then launched all six of my big 5" rockets at one time.

With but a short "Whooooosh", the rockets hit the water a few yards short of the raft, the exploding water tipping the truck onto its side into the river, rather than destroying it, but to my shocked surprise it sent up a great massive wall of water up to about 100 feet in the air.

The narrow canyon walls, rising sharply from the river, prevented my making any kind of evasive turn that would enable me to miss the sudden watery barrier which was directly in my path of flight.

I had never before flown into a watery barricade any heavier than a sudden thundershower, and had absolutely no idea what the impact force of my 325 mph speed would have on the structure of my airplane ... even had I been allowed more than a short instant of time to think about it before running head-long into my self-induced watery hazard.

My instantaneous reaction to the problem was an immediate exclamation of "Oooooooh Sheeee-it ... I've done it now!!" then I pulled back on the control stick to start a belated climb as I ran head-on into the massive muddy-green wall of water.

With a great noisy "Splatt", the windscreen was covered, and for a brief micro-second I was reminded of taking a car through an automatic car wash . then, just as quickly, I was through it and into the clear air on the other side ... none the worse for the experience, except for tense adrenalin flow and a few more grey hairs than I'd had just a few seconds before.

The slaughter of the retreating North Koreans continued all along the former battle lines; small pockets of temporary resistance in the vicinity of Chinju and Kumchon, were quickly eliminated by the focus of our air attacks, after which they, too, broke out into the open, trying to escape to the north, making themselves all the more vulnerable to our strafing runs.

The Red Army was being suddenly and completely decimated ... leaving all of their artillery, trucks, tanks and supplies in their wake as they tried to save themselves by running into the hills.

Our troops chased them, capturing many thousands in the process, but many were able to simply remove their uniforms and blend into the masses of South Korean refugees struggling toward the south.

The complexion of the war had completely reversed itself in just a few short days. There was no longer much question about which side would "win", it was becoming just a matter of "how long will it take to wipe up the stragglers?" We began to have flights coming back still carrying their bombs and rockets because they could not find any worthwhile targets. Instead, they would have to carry their loads out over the Sea of Japan and jettison the bombs in the "safe" mode, returning to base with their rockets and machine gun ammunition.

Captain Joe Lane "captured" twenty-five enemy troops trying to escape from our advancing Army north of Taejon. He simply flew low over them, fired a burst from his machine guns, and they immediately whipped out a white cloth, then turned to start marching south with their hands in the air, toward our advancing troops. Joe continued to circle them until they came to one of our tanks, who stopped long enough to accept their surrender.

Even though our troops were approaching the 38th parallel all along the front, there was still a strong resistance along the east coast, near Wonsan, and around the North Korean capital city of Pyongyang.

While the Army's General Walker was being quoted in the newspapers, saying "The War is Over", our Captain Don Flentke was knocked down over the hills southwest of Wonsan, and died in the crash of his Mustang on September 29th, 1950. Young Lt. Mike David had to ditch in the sea off Wonsan about the same time; he never came up. On one day - October 2, 1950, we lost Ramon Davis in the Wonsan area, Major Murritt Davis ... my friend Lt. Don Bolt was knocked down near Pyongyang, and we learned that Alex Padilla had been captured while a Forward Air Controller with the Army. Within days, Ed Hodges controls were shot out and Owen Brewer had his engine shot up; both bailed out ... successfully and were picked up to return to duty.

We didn't dare let our optimism make us complacent about the enemy's remaining battle capabilities. It was becoming quite obvious that they were trying to regroup for a last-ditch stand in the mountains ... on a line stretching from Pyongyang, in the west, to Hamhung on the east coast. Their desperation made the survivors all the more dangerous to us.

The remaining Reds became more wily and more foolhardy. Instead of ducking for cover when we came into sight, they'd remain at their guns ... trading round-for-round as we pressed our attacks.

The chilly fall weather and our primitive, unheated tents at Pusan contributed to a near-epidemic of head colds amongst our pilots and ground crews. Fortunately, our ground support and attack missions allowed us to remain at comparatively low altitudes ... usually under 5000 feet, so the head-colds did not seriously impede our combat capability; they just made each mission more uncomfortable, and increased the risk of punctured ear drums.

On that fateful 2 October, 1950 date, I flew a long haul of four hours and forty-five minutes from Pusan to the coastal area north of Hungnam, my 52nd mission... with a cold the likes of which the Flight Surgeon would have grounded me in peacetime. It was a long, tiring mission, where I really had to search before I finally found an operational switch engine to knock out. I was sorely tempted to start a few forest fires in the beautiful, dry crimson colors of the fall's foliage, but thought better of it; after all, "the war's over" and our troops will be taking that countryside in just a few days... How little we knew!

D. E. 'Bud' Biteman, Lt Col. USAF, Ret