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The 5th Marines
The 5th Marines
The 5th Marines
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The 5th Marines

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Fighting in the Korean War, Colonel "Tough" Tony Shultz of the 5th Marines clashes against Sung Shi Lee and the Chiang-si Province Boys. It's a stark contrast of American ideals vs the pride of an ancient culture, certain of its own Communist ideals. Political wrangling and corruption are the backdrop to the moral battlefield of Panmunjom and the land called "No Man's Land" in Chang Dang Valley.

The United Nations' deceitful role is revealed in a conflict of interest with both the Chinese and Americans paying the price. This story of East and West mirrors the conflicts, misunderstandings and potential for productive relations of two proud nations.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherDov Silverman
Release dateOct 12, 2012
ISBN9781301030781
The 5th Marines
Author

Dov Silverman

Born in Brooklyn, New York, Dov Silverman has served as a U.S. Marine in the Korean War, worked as a Long Island railroad conductor, been an auctioneer, and even established the Autar Microfilm Service. While working so hard on the railroad, he earned his high school diploma and went on to graduate from Stony Brook University, Long Island, New York, cum laude, at the age of 39. He and his family settled in Safed, Israel in 1972. He credits a spiritual meeting with God and a Tzaddik (righteous man), Jules Rubinstein, in the Brentwood (New York) Jewish Center, with setting him on the path of study, religious involvement and settlement in Israel. His novel, FALL OF THE SHOGUN, appeared on the London Times Best-Seller List and has been published in multiple languages. He also won a 1988 Suntory Mystery Fiction Award, Japan, for REVENGE OF THE GOOD SHEPHERDS.

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    The 5th Marines - Dov Silverman

    THE FIFTH MARINES

    Dov Silverman

    Silverman, Don

    The Fifth Marines

    www.dovsilverman.com

    Published at Smashwords.com, copyright 2012, 2015

    All rights reserved

    ISBN: 9781301265794

    Second edition

    Thriller, suspence,

    Cover design by Katrina Joyner, ebookcovers4u.com

    (License notes) ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

    THE FIFTH MARINES is a mainstream historical, action thriller about the Korean War. It is Faction, a blend of fact and fiction to tell the truth (36,000 words). Similar to THE LONGEST DAY and SAVING PRIVATE RYAN.

    This is the story of Colonel Tough Tony Shultz, the loyalty of his men to American ideals and the honor of the US Marine Corps. Chinese General Sung Shi Lee and the Chiang-si Province Boys, proud of an ancient culture and certain of their Communist ideals, clash with Shultz and his Marines on the moral battlefield in Panmunjom and in No-Man's Land in the Chang Dang Valley. Political wrangling and corruption at the highest levels hamstring both Shultz and Lee. The United Nations' deceitful role is revealed in a conflict of interest with both the Chinese and Americans paying the price.

    Twenty years later, President Nixon's visit to China gives readers an insight into today's problems and tomorrow's solutions. This story of East and West mirrors the conflicts, misunderstandings and potential for productive relations of two proud nations. It tells of:

    MacArthur -- Truman controversy.

    Chairman Mao and Joseph Stalin dispute.

    Clash between American military and United Nations.

    The heroism and dedication of both Chinese and American fighting men.

    The aftermath of the military conflict.

    THE FIFTH MARINES

    By

    Dov Silverman

    …but there is neither east nor west,

    Border, nor breed, nor birth,

    When two strong men stand face to face,

    ‘Tho they come from the ends of the earth.

    Rudyard Kipling

    1893

    KOREA, CHANGDANG VALLEY, APRIL 1952:

    Distant naval gunfire played a low booming drum roll for the thin reedy music of the bagpipes. Exploding shells back lighted the Korean hills north of the 38th Parallel. A parachute flare floated in the pre-dawn darkness silhouetting the British Black Watch Battalion moving forward through shallow trenches. The Royal Scottish Highlanders wore flat edged WWI helmets and carried old bolt action Enfield rifles and 225 years of tradition. American Marine Corporal Jeff Heidrich guided them behind the U.S. Marine front line. The British Colonel and 900 men of the best known regiment in the world followed. The Colonel wore polished low cut dress shoes, pressed khakis and a swagger stick tucked under his arm with a barracks cap squared on his head.

    Several dull, hollow sounds in the distance caused Heidrich to stop. Incoming! he shouted and counted out loud. "One thousand two! One thousand three!

    Corporal, Colonel Goddard asked, What is the count of those enemy mortars?

    Seven, Colonel Sir. Hit the deck!

    All down the trench-line the call was repeated and men dove for cover. The sound of bagpipes died in deflated agony.

    Colonel Gordon Goddard remained standing and he continued the count out loud, One thousand eight, one thousand nine, one thousand….

    The scream of shells and roar of explosions shook the ground. The colonel looked down at Heidrich and smiled. From out of the dark came a clipped Scottish accent followed by a six foot four Sergeant Major in his early fifties. He too looked down at Corporal Heidrich, Son you are three seconds off your count. Is your outfit new to combat?

    Heidrich jumped up. Although six feet tall he felt dwarfed by the older man. The Fifth Marines is the best outfit in the field! he said.

    A British accented voice came out of the dark, "If you’re so good, ‘ow come you ain’t the First Marines?’

    Laughter spread down the line as the men scrambled to their feet.

    Yo! Heidrich shouted. Bullfrog’s artillery is gonna croak. Hit the deck!

    The flash of muzzle blasts half a mile behind the trench-line preceded the roar of marine artillery shells screaming overhead. No shells landed near but the whistling of them passing raised hackles on the men’s necks.

    Heidrich was again looking up from the ground at Colonel Goddard and the Sergeant Major.

    Corporal Jeffrey Heidrich, Top Sergeant Hupert said. There were three seconds more on the enemy mortars. And now you want to drag me, Sgt. Major Hupert of the famous Black Watch Battalion, into the blasted dirt when it is your guns firing at the enemy!

    Out of the night came a rough British voice, Go on Huppy, tell ‘em ‘ow famous we are! Show em' our clippings

    Hupert didn’t have to shout. He spoke in a dull roar, I know who said that! I won’t forget. Now be good lads and get a move on!

    Sergeant Major, Heidrich said. Some of our ammunition is from the First World War. We get short rounds. They kill us just as good as the enemy’s stuff.

    Don’t be nervous son, Colonel Goddard said.

    With respect, Colonel Sir. Anyone who wants to play bagpipes comin’ on line against the Chiang-si Boys is askin’ for trouble.

    We’re professionals! the Sergeant Major said. Playing the pipes in battle is our tradition.

    Sarge, Tough Tony knows about tradition. He finished the Naval Academy. You play them pipes near him and he’ll shove em’ where the sun don’t shine.

    You refer to your regimental commander as Tough Tony? The Colonel asked.

    Not to his face.

    What kind of bloke is he? Hupert asked.

    What’s a bloke?

    All three ducked as glowing orange tracer bullets swept their trench. The sounds of artillery rumbled near and far. Flares lit up a stark battlefield of rice paddies, barbed wire and shell holes. Muzzle flashes in the dark revealed the enemy’s presence.

    Corporal, Colonel Goddard asked. Didn’t the Fifth Marines and the Chiang-si Boys meet last year along the Manchurian Border?

    Jeff Heidrich tried to see the Colonel’s face. In the dark he couldn’t tell from the cultured voice if the officer was baiting him. When the sergeant spoke, he knew.

    Didn’t your Fifth Marines retreat from the Chosen Reservoir last Christmas?

    No Marine outfit ever retreated! Heidrick said. Besides, we killed a hell of a lot more of them than they did of us! The Chiang-si Boys know the Fifth Marines and we ain’t forgettin’ them. I’ll tell Tony you’re here.

    Not to worry, laddie, Sgt. Major Hupert called after him. We’ll take care of the slope-heads for you.

    It was almost dawn when Jeff Heidrich arrived at the Fifth Marine observation bunker. His regimental commander stood outside in the trench. Colonel Shultz. I brought the Limeys. Is Black Jack Runyan around?

    Tony Shultz at five foot seven was the shortest officer in the First Marine Division. He had bandy legs, a barrel chest and powerful long arms meant for a much taller man. Without turning he said, Your chief of Scouts and Snipers is standing next to you.

    Can’t see him, Heidrich said.

    Cause I’m black as the night, Runyan’s deep voice purred, I love the night. Don’t you come feelin’ around for me with your big white Texas hands.

    Aww, Sarge. Cut it out. What do I tell the Limey’s?

    Tell them I don’t like anybody who says caahn’t instead of can’t and aaunt instead of ant.

    Come on Sarge. Where do I bring them?

    Here, Runyan said. Sergeant Tedesco you and me will guide them into the Item Company positions.

    The sky lightened in the east. Runyan, big, black and powerful contrasted with 19 year Jeff Heidrich, who was thin, tall and blond. Shultz had his back to them and stared at the three hills fronting the Fifth marine positions.

    Colonel Sir, Heidrich said. This Black Watch bunch are old guys. They must be thirty or forty years old." Both Shultz and Runyan exchanged glances and smiled.

    They don’t respect nothin’ Heidrich said.

    They’d better respect General Sung Shi Li. Shultz said. Bring them up. We’ll introduce them to the Three Sisters.

    The UN should have briefed the Limey’s, Runyan said.

    Shultz cast a cynical glance at his Master Sergeant and pulled out his wallet. He removed all the Script money and handed it to Runyan. When the Black Watch relieves Item Company, make a party for the kids.

    How long we got?

    Three days. Take Tedesco with you. Shultz held up the chewed end of his unlit cigar and spat. It’s not a good sign when this tastes bad. He threw the cigar onto a trash pile in front of the bunker.

    By the light of the rising sun the two marines watched the English Battalion move up the trench-line. The age difference between the Marines and the British was reinforced by wisecracks from the Englishmen. The older men moved with self-assurance of seasoned well rested veterans. Their battle flags unfurled were preceded by six war dogs. At the rear of the column were two wooden silhouettes of British Centurion tanks carried in front of a real tank.

    The Marines crawled, wriggled and climbed out of bunkers, fighting holes and spider traps to watch the British come on line. Marines began to climb out of the trench and walk into the rice paddy behind the bunkers. There, empty shell casings were stuck into the ground for use as piss tubes. Other men used inverted ammo boxes with the middle slat removed to sit on. Those in the trench shaved and washed from water in their helmets. Their faces and hands were sun burnt and weather beaten. Their bodies pale white. Their fatigues were dirty but every weapon shone, clean and oiled. Small smokeless fires from the heating tablets in the ‘C’-rations were used to heat cans of corned beef hash or ham and limas.

    "You blokes got a ‘Cuppa?’ the Brits shouted to the Marines.

    What the hell is a Cuppa?

    A Cuppa tea!

    These Limeys can’t speak English!

    Morning Patrol! Runyan shouted and pointed to the sky. Display orange air panels!

    Display orange air panels! Display orange air panels! The order echoed up and down the Fifth Marine trench line. Platoon leaders threw the orange colored squares on top of their bunkers.

    From out of the west two Marine Corsair fighter-bombers flew into the morning sun. Captain Ken Angloch glanced left at his wingman and switched on his microphone.

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