The Dambusters At Hwachon

0 Comments | Naval Aviation News, May, 2001 | by Mark L. Evans, | C. Ross Bloodsworth

The Korean War was almost a year old when the Navy blasted the Hwachon Dam on 1 May 1951. One of the most extraordinary strikes of the war, the raid is commemorated today by Fighter Attack Squadron (VFA) 195's nickname, Dambusters. On the ground, the war was degenerating into vicious trench fighting where gains were measured in yards. In the air, the men of the fleet did everything they could to take the pressure off, but flying over Korea presented unique challenges.

Retired Commander K. W. "Tex" Atkinson recalled: "Each of us spent hours cutting and shaping large charts into small sections. We covered them with clear plastic so that they could be easily stored. This prevented us from having navigational charts spread all over the cockpit while we tried to fly formation and keep track of where we were at the same time. A Navy pilot in Korea never knew when he would suddenly find himself on his own, flying over snow-covered mountains that all looked the same, battling 50-knot winds that constantly tried to blow him off course, with no radio beams to follow and a carrier to find that was somewhere far out to sea."

On 5 April the Chinese and North Koreans launched their fifth offensive aimed at pushing the United Nations (UN) forces back from the 38th parallel. Numbering 70 divisions, the communists were determined to isolate South Korea's capital of Seoul with a double-flanking movement, and launched four Chinese communist army groups against the 75-mile front between the Hwachon Reservoir and Munsan. Two weeks of seesaw fighting stretched the 1st Marine Division thin. On 22 April when the 7th Marines were dug in around Hwachon and spotted movement on the nearby hills, they knew what was coming. Shortly after dark the stillness exploded as bugles, sirens, whistles, gongs and screams announced a huge Chinese attack. On their left the 6th South Korean Division disintegrated, exposing the Marines' flank.

A Marine officer recalled how the Chinese came "in wave after wave, hundreds of them. They were singing, humming and chanting, 'Awake Marines!'" Hitting the Marines with massive mortar barrages, they swarmed in for the kill, throwing hundreds of grenades. Another Marine remembered, "All this was in the pitch-black night with Chinese cymbals crashing, horns blowing and their God-awful yells." Somehow, the Marines held, and survivor Sydney Greenwood recalled why: "I remember saying to a Marine next to me, 'If they break through, we will be done.' The Marine responded, 'Don't forget, there are Marines on that hill."' Greenwood added, "That remark will last with me forever." Still, as hard as they fought, the Marines could not hold back an avalanche, and on the 24th orders came to pull back.

Fortunately, as tough as the communists were on the ground, promised East Bloc air support failed to materialize, allowing the Marines to escape while giving the UN air forces the chance they needed to even the score. Chinese General Peng Dehuai bitterly observed that had the communists controlled the skies during these earlier offensives, "the American and British invaders would already have been eliminated in Korea." The truth was that in their effort to stop communist aggression, U.S. planners were increasingly forced to rely upon the firepower of the air-ground team to offset the enemy's numbers.

With rising casualties, U.S. planners desperately searched for a way to break the deadlock, and looming foremost was the Hwachon Dam. Located almost 50 miles northeast of Seoul, the 250-foot-high dam impounded the waters of the Pukhan River, which were high due to the spring thaw. The enemy held two aces. If they blew the dam's sluice gates, the released waters would flood the valley and stop further UN advances. If they held back the water by closing the gates, the river would be lowered to fordable depths and enable communist infiltration across the river against the exposed allied flanks. Either way, it had to go.

The attempts to blow up this dam rank as some of the most determined of the war. The Air Force was the first to try, using Boeing B-29s to bomb the dam, but they barely dented the 2fi-foot-thick gates. Unfortunately, the bombing spooked the enemy, who promptly blew most of the vital Pukhan bridges and opened some of the gates, flooding the lower river.

Racing against time, the Army sent in Rangers and mechanized cavalry on 11 April, but they were heavily outnumbered and forced back by fierce resistance. The final straw was when a larger ground attack actually took the dam later in the month, only to be driven out by a ferocious counterattack before they could destroy the sluice gates. The end result was that the dam had become a symbol to the communists of their continued defiance of the West.

Throughout this period, round-the-clock air strikes had begun to wear down the men of Task Force 77. Nonetheless, the grueling pace of mounting continual close support missions demanded nothing less than total dedication, and nowhere was this commitment more in evidence than with Carrier Air Group (CVG) 19, which had racked up an impressive fighting record in WW II.