William DiMaurizio (Korean War) (Primary Source)

Transcription

It was so bad in the trenches at first, but at the end of the summer, wow. They call it monsoon season and it rains every day. Every day, there’s rain. We’d make trenches and get water in them. Our feet were always soaking wet. Eventually, I had problems, and I was going to lose my foot. They called it trench foot (an ulcero-necrotic disease that affected the feet of soldiers exposed too long to water, cold and vermin associated with the poor conditions of life in the trenches). This was very common during the World War One in France (1914-1918).

Because of the rain, the trenches were always full of water. We couldn’t change our boots. Then our feet would get all shriveled up by water. Then the foot would turn black. When it got to the ankle, well, they would have to cut it off. That’s why during the World War One, there were many men who had only one foot. They took care of it and then it was fine afterwards. In the trenches, well, we mostly kept watch. Day and night. To see if anyone crossed our lines. I was a platoon commander (in the 2^nd Battalion of the Royal 22e Régiment in Korea). Because the platoon was divided in three, I had one section. I took orders from the sergeant or the lieutenant.

I found it unfortunate for the world, for the civilians. Especially for the young people, the children there. Some of them had nothing to eat. Some of them were always following us. I had a young boy who was what, ten or eleven years old? He followed me almost the whole time I was there. We used to cut our own food a little here, a little there, to feed him. And he stayed with us. I saw villages completely destroyed; the people didn’t have much. They lost everything they had. It thought it was quite unfortunate. It was valuable for the citizens. There wasn’t much left to eat because they couldn’t grow much. Some of the rice fields were destroyed, the water was running down, so the rice wouldn’t grow. Yes, it was hard for them.

As for the patrols, sometimes I’d go out on patrol with three men to see what was going on. To see if we could see anything, to inform the officers. Patrolling was dangerous. Sometimes there were only three of us and sometimes we could fall into the hands of a large group of enemy soldiers. They didn’t take many prisoners, the North (Chinese and North Korean communist forces), because they didn’t have anything to eat. Well, you had to be careful, you couldn’t lose too many because sometimes we went on patrol with three men. You couldn’t lose a man. If you lost one, then you were on your own and that’s what they wanted. They wanted to capture someone and then question him.

There was a guy with me who had been a prisoner. When he got out (the day after the armistice was signed in July 1953), he wasn’t the same man. I remember, I was on patrol. There were four or five of us on patrol and there was a little path. There was a guy lying on the ground. He was playing dead, but he had his rifle on the ground and his hand was on the rifle. He thought we were going to walk by him. Then he would shoot us in the back. What did I do? I picked up a rock and let it fall on his head. I saw the guy move a little. He was playing dead.

We arrived in Vancouver, around 11 p.m. There was no one at the airport. Then a truck came and picked us up. It took us to another spot at the airport, a little further away. They put us on another plane and transferred us in the same way. Shortly after, we were on a train. There were about 15 of us on the train. I was the only senior officer, so I was in charge of that group. Then, not at every station, but often enough, we would stop somewhere and one of them would get off. I had a list and would cross of the name. Okay, he disembarked.

One guy was standing next to a gas can. The gas burned him, and he had to be bandaged from head to toe. We were in Winnipeg. I had the train stop to take him away to the hospital. The poor guy, no one was there. We arrived in Montreal and there was no one at the train station, nothing. I had to report to Depot No. 4 (military depot of the 4^th District, Montreal region) on Sherbrooke Street (Montreal). It was very bad, very bad. You never forget that.