[Congressional Record Volume 156, Number 97 (Friday, June 25, 2010)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Page E1213]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




            REMEMBER THE 60TH ANNIVERSARY OF THE KOREAN WAR

                                 ______
                                 

                            HON. GENE GREEN

                                of texas

                    in the house of representatives

                         Friday, June 25, 2010

  Mr. GENE GREEN of Texas. Madam Speaker, I would like to submit the 
followi article, ``Remember the 60th anniversary of the Korean War'' by 
Hardie Matthews, as printed in the Pasadena Citizen, June 23, 2010.

       Why can't we just have a peaceful world with no war? What 
     causes us to send the best men and women in the world off to 
     war. I didn't want to leave my home and go fight some war in 
     some far off place. I just wanted to stay home and enjoy my 
     life. I admire the young men and women today who are so 
     dedicated to defending this great country of ours.
       June is a bad month for me. It was June 1945 when I was 
     taken from my idyllic home in Lubbock, Texas, and thrust into 
     the real world of basic training. And then five years later, 
     away I went from Texas Tech to the Korean War.
       Never will forget my college roommates and I fixing our 
     lunch of the usual steak and hearing an interruption of the 
     noontime radio newscast. The announcer, in his grave voice, 
     said at eight that night, the President of the United States 
     wanted to talk to us about the situation that had developed 
     in Korea. We were all busy and didn't have time to think 
     about some idiotic place called Korea.
       So that night, while we were studying, Squeaky Voice Truman 
     came on the radio. What a horrible voice he had! What made it 
     even worse was he had a hard time reading his script. His 
     predecessor, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, had such a melodic 
     voice and knew exactly how to use it. Then old Squeaky Voice 
     came on, and I lost interest in becoming President of the 
     United States. With FDR, I wanted to be President; before I 
     heard him in 1933, first grade, I wanted to be a truck 
     driver, but Roosevelt just sort of hypnotized me. I wanted to 
     be just like him.
       Soooo, while we were studying, June 25, 1950, Squeaky Voice 
     came on the radio and told us that Communist North Korea had 
     invaded South Korea, and that the United Nations had been 
     asked to submit troops to prevent the takeover of that 
     peninsula by Communist North Korea.
       The next day, the glaring headline in the Lubbock Avalance 
     Journal newspaper said that Truman had declared war on North 
     Korea. That morning I went to the Tech library. I wanted to 
     find Korea on the World Atlas. I did, and came home to tell 
     my roommates.
       Within days, I was on my way. I couldn't believe that 
     rotten place called Korea. We were on a Japanese Junker ship. 
     It kept stalling and stalling. Something was wrong with the 
     durn motor. It would sputter along, and then stop. Then we 
     would hear a large splash as the anchor was mechanically 
     splashed into the water. There we would sit for hours. That 
     went on for days and days.
       As best we could determine, it took us 10 days to go the 50 
     miles by water from Yokohoma, Japan, to Inchon, Korea. Can 
     you imagine! Fifty miles in 10 days! What made it worse 
     was the food. We ate spoiled Spam! When you're starving to 
     death, you'll eat anything. Consequently, when we hit the 
     beachhead at Inchon, I had soiled pants from dysentery, a 
     letter in my pocket from Mom saying that she couldn't take 
     Dad's philandering any more and was divorcing him. What I 
     didn't have was ammunition, food or officers. All officers 
     stayed on board our ship. That night, we speculated that 
     all those officers would be back in Japan receiving 
     citation after citation for their bravery in combat. Makes 
     me sick, now, every time I see an officer with a chest 
     full of medals. All those medals were ``earned'' many 
     miles behind the lines. So next time you see that, 
     remember what I've told you here.
       Just before we climbed over the side of that ship, we threw 
     our duffel bags down into a landing barge. Not one bag missed 
     that little boat. We had a rope ladder to climb down. In so 
     doing, when we reached the bottom of the rope ladder, we had 
     to wait until the boat rose up high enough with the tide so 
     that we could jump from the rope to the barge. Our buddies on 
     board would catch us and swing us onto the barge.
       Cold! Goodness! And there stood ``Boatman,'' as we called 
     the man running the landing barge. His face was all red and 
     puffy from frostbite. His eyes had visible white matter in 
     them, and all he had on for protection from the coldness was 
     a field jacket. I had on about seven layers of clothes. He 
     was a Army Reservist just like us and this was his fourth 
     week on that landing barge.
       We all looked at him with such envy, and, in turn, he 
     looked at us with even more envy. He had two bandoliers of 
     ammunition; that is, two big straps from his shoulders to his 
     waste; we had no ammo. We had heavy winter clothing; he had a 
     light weight field jacket.
       All those memories came back to me as I sat in Tom Mixon's 
     Memory War Museum. Tom and two of his friends were telling me 
     about the Chosin Reservior battle they were in. There were 
     about 10,000 Marines, approximately 2,000 Army and United 
     Nations troops defending that reservoir. 120,000 Chinese 
     forces were determined to annihilate those Marines and other 
     troops, but did not. To me, it was unreal that I would be 
     sitting there in that museum talking to two of the heroes of 
     that horrible battle that raged for two months in sub-zero 
     weather. The odds were completely against them, and yet, here 
     sat two of my heroes: James H. Lewis and Lonnie Avery. How do 
     you thank men like them and Tom Mixon, who suffered frostbite 
     so severe that his limbs were to be amputated? There is no 
     way to thank them, is there? Let me tell you something: 
     Though I try to keep religion out of this column, I just have 
     to say this: I thank God for brave men like those three. You 
     and I wouldn't be here if the Communists of Asia hadn't been 
     stopped by those heroes.
       So on June 25 of this year, the sixtieth anniversary of the 
     beginning of the Korean War, you and I should wish HIS 
     richest blessing for those three good men, our own great 
     heroes, for what they did for you and me. Just let me say, 
     God bless the three of you. I don't know anyone more 
     deserving than you. What an honor it is for me to sit here at 
     this computer writing about you three modest, hard working 
     men! It is a real honor. Thank you for the good life that is 
     mine. I wouldn't be here pounding away on this poor old 
     keyboard, if it weren't for you three. Thank you from the 
     depth of my heart. Thank you.

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