By the time Russ arrived in Korea in December 1952, the war had been in progress for two and one-half years. Although Russ was trained to be a small-arms mechanic, he informs us that all marines underwent advanced infantry training before being sent to Korea, and he spent most of his time as a rifleman in trenches. Five days after he arrived in at his post in the field in January 1953, he wrote: "I consider it an honor to be here." It was, however, a hard life. An occasional chocolate chip cookie is balanced by "an obscene putrescence in one of the cans which is labeled `Ham and Eggs.'" According to Russ: "It is impossible to keep anything clean; showers of dirt fall each time an incoming shell lands anywhere nearby." At one point, Russ describes himself and his fellows as "bearded, filthy, and stinking." As a result, Russ writes: "The portable showers [were] a real luxury."
The trenches of the Chinese forces were no more than 200 yards away, and firefights occurred every night. The fighting often lasted only for a few minutes (in one instance, Russ writes: "The fire fight lasted for at least five minutes - a hell of a prolonged encounter for this type of situation"), but it could be terrifying. Even when they weren't fighting, the marines were almost continuously exposed to danger. They often patrolled through heavily-mined rice paddies, looking for "line jumpers,...Korean or Chinese spies that had gotten through" the Allies' main line of resistance. The possibility of imminent combat was so great that it was, according to Russ, "mandatory to carry one's weapon when outside" at all times. On one occasion, a Chinese mortar round lands in the middle of a group of marines, and Russ reports that another marines described the scene as a "slaughterhouse." On another occasion, after "heavy assaults" by the Chinese on several successive nights, Russ characterizes the marine casualties as "appalling." Russ's crude drawings and diagrams help to illustrate the points he is making.
Russ writes revealingly about his peers: "As a marine, one almost feels obliged to conceal any emotion except anger;" and "The average marine...hates sailors, is not averse to beating up homosexuals, and loathes civilians." It probably was inevitable that some marines would turn that anger inward, and Ross reports: "Suicide is not a rare occurrence in the Corps." According to Russ, "the men of the Corps are the most skillful killers in the world." Russ describes one instance in which a marine is killed while hunting for souvenirs, and this is the verdict of one of his peers: "He was a fool. I don't feel sorry for him; only for his folks."
Russ's writing often is colorful, and he clearly has a gift for observation. However, like the Brady and Owen books, his account makes few references to the geopolitical struggle at the heart of the Korean War. And readers wanting to learn about the big picture of the early Cold War also must look elsewhere. But I now believe that there is considerable value in reading about the individual infantryman's experience in this or any other conflict, and Russ's battlefield memoir is one of the best from the Korean War. Thanks to Brady, Owen, and Russ, this is no longer the "forgotten war."