The earlier night we were anchored out and my M-1 seemed to weigh fifty pounds on that frozen deck. My watch was to look out for frogmen who would attach plastic explosives to the bottom and sink us in that terrible, cold harbor. But tonight was more comfortable, moving up and down the dock with that heavy piece, presumeably to prevent the theft of cargo we were unloading. The Korean winter cold was terrible, but at least you could find some minimal cover from the buildings along the dock. If the apparitions had been daunting at anchor, they were equally strange along the pier.
Some of those were the Korean police and soldiers, also patroling around; and they made me worried because we were smuggling in aid for the orphanages run by Catholic nuns. It seems that the Korean hiearchy, including the dictator/president, Sigmund Rhee, had a bad habit on confuscating aid and then sellng it as they could. We were never caught, but it was fearful, scary business bringing in drugs, blankets and clothes and some food right under their eyes and noses.
We went to the orphanages to visit a couple of times, and the nuns gave us Suntory Whisky (Japanese) and pickled radishes for our trouble. Their situation with orphans was dire and we were humbled by what little they had, and how little we were able to smuggle in. One of the "unknown" stories of the Korean War, and one that has not played well with people I've tried to share it with. One of the "inconvenient truths" of war, that the women and children are hurt the most, and are seldom mentioned.
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