18th Fighter-Bomber Wing in Korea

WHITE ROBES

Refugees or Reds August,1950

By early August, 1950, the momentum of the North Korean's three-pronged drive into the south had proved immensely successful. They had completed their end-around on the west and south coasts, their east coast drive had progressed far enough to force evacuation of USAF fighter squadrons from Pohang air base, and their central thrust was threatening to cross the Naktong River to knock on our last bastion of defense ... our home base at Taegu.

Their objective, to surround Taegu, then march on Pusan and have control of the entire peninsula, seemed just a few days short of accomplishment. We were in deep trouble!

Despite our intensive firepower from dawn to dark every day, we just didn't seem to have enough airplanes or pilots to properly stem the Red tide.

As our defensive perimeter continued to shrink around Taegu, we became suddenly aware of the massed exodus of Korean refugees ahead of the battles. But the full impact of their presence did not strike home to me until the first few days of August, 1950, when the stream of white-clothed humanity began to collect on the west bank of the Naktong River.

Only then, as I sat in the narrow confines of my F-51's cockpit in relative 'comfort', patrolling the river to prevent their crossing, did I begin to feel the weight of the decisions which were suddenly forced upon me .... decisions which my years of Air Force training had neglected to prepare me for ... and which violently contradicted my Christian upbringing.

"Could I bring myself to fire my machine guns at those refugees in order to keep them from crossing the Naktong River?"

We knew that the Red army troops had dressed many of their soldiers as refugees, who then infiltrated behind our lines to attack from the rear at opportune times. But we knew, too, that these thousands upon thousands of old people and young children had been forced from their homes in Seoul, or Suwon, then from Taejon, and Nonsan and Kumsan, and all of the villages in between ...carrying all that was left of their life-long possessions.

Many were Christians, for Korea had responded to missionary zeal for scores of years ...I couldn't know how many could be praying to my Jesus for deliverance ... at the exact instant that I was asking the very same Jesus for divine guidance, when the time came, that I might have to pull the trigger on them....!!

The Naktong River near H'amchang was extremely shallow in August, shallow enough to wade in many places. We knew that these crossings must be closely watched, because these were the areas the North Koreans would attempt to cross.

There was no question in our minds concerning our response to soldiers trying to cross the river ...we would stop them at all costs. But the subject of refugees was something else ... we had no orders, nor even firm 'guidance' from higher headquarters on the subject; 'just a sort of a general unspoken concensus that our position at Taegu would be very seriously jeopardized if and when the mass of refugees crossed the Naktong River... because there was no doubt in any of our minds that the exodus would be heavily infiltrated by armed North Korean troops, against whom we could have little defense once they crossed the protective Naktong river.

No one would take the responsibility to issue a specific instruction on just how the refugees were to be stopped!

What I saw on that one bright August, early morning mission caused me to pull up into a wide, sweeping left turn, to place my flight in a parallel line with the river, where I immediately dropped down until I was barely ten feet above the sand ...and a scant yard over the heads of hundreds upon hundreds of white-robed men, women and children standing in the middle of the river.

They stopped where they were, and ducked as we roared over, then those nearest the east bank scrambled forward, while most of the others stayed where they were while we circled low for another pass.

This time, though, I fired a long burst of machine gun fire into the open water ahead of those who had stopped in mid-stream.

They immediately jumped up and returned to the west bank; but as soon as I would pull up to a higher altitude for a wider, more comfortable circle, a few would start down the bank, intent upon crossing while they thought we were not looking. Their bright white clothing stood out vividly against the reddish, sandy river bed, and we could observe their movements quite easily. So I would quickly roll over into another low pass, firing into the water ahead of them as I went by, and they would turn back and run to the river bank.

I prayed that none would call my hand, and try to cross after seeing my warning bursts of gunfire, because at that point in time I honestly did not know if I could fire directly at them to stop their crossing.

We patrolled that shallow portion of the river for a couple of hours, circling the shallowest areas at 500 to 800 feet altitude, then dropping down to fire a short burst into the river whenever a few foolhardy souls would start to move across. I knew that sooner or later some would defy my warnings, because the multitude on the bank continued to grow, and they didn't dare stop moving while the battle lines continued to draw nearer in the west.

The mental anguish of those couple of hours ...sitting alone in my cockpit as I played 'God' to those thousands of homeless, defenseless dregs of humanity, was the heaviest burden I had ever been forced to bear ...or ever would!

It had been one thing to discuss various wartime tactics, distasteful or not, in a hypothetical context while seated in the detached atmosphere of the Operations Office ... such as all agreeing that the refugees "must be stopped" if we were to save our position at Taegu. But, believe me, it was quite another matter to be sitting in the cockpit of a heavily-armed F-51 Mustang, looking through the gunsight and searching my conscience for moral justification to pull the trigger on them.

I prayed, fervently, that none of the refugees would challenge my warnings or, if they did, I hoped some would suddenly uncover a machine gun or rifle and start firing at me ...for only then would I have my needed justification I had often strafed enemy foot troops, and I'd blasted their tanks and trucks with my rockets, without giving a second thought to the moral arguments of war and the "killing of fellow man". They were the enemy ...they were paid to try to kill me at the same time that I was attacking them.

But the refugees in their white costumes ...they were something else; unknowns. They appeared defenseless, but were they? How many had rifles and sub-machine guns hidden under their long white gowns, ready to attack our troops from the rear?

I couldn't know ...I had to just bear the anguish of uncertainty as I made pass after low pass, firing an occasonal warning burst to keep them on the west side of the river ... and hoping.

As our fuel level ran low, I called Mellow Control to inform them that we still had our bombs and rockets aboard, and should go look for more lucrative targets along the battle line, if they could get another flight to take over our refugee patrol along the river. They did so, and we were shortly able to go hit some trucks and artillery pieces along the road near Yongdon.

The Red troops were shooting at us as we went in to bomb and strafe, and I almost felt glad ...there wasn't any question in my mind as to whether they were enemy or not!

Our refugee river patrol was maintained for the rest of that day, primarily by flights returning from bombing missions along the front. Each would patrol for an hour or so, firing warning bursts as necessary, to keep the river clear. And, as we figured, by the time darkness came, the stream of white-robed humanity resumed their crossing without hindrance from the air; but by that time the Army had set up checkpoint controls to deflect the masses away from our Taegu airbase and transport routes.

My prayers ...and those of the refugees, were answered that early August day in 1950.

To my knowledge, no one fired at those on the ground, because none defied our warnings. By the following day the problem had become 'academic', because the crossings were being controlled by our Army troops. Thousands of refugees settled in all available open spaces around our base at Taegu, but by then the base security forces could handle the situation.

The question again became hypothetical ... would I fire upon refugees to protect our base?

‘I WILL NEVER KNOW......."

Duane E. 'Bud' Biteman,
Lt. Col, USAF, Ret
‘...One of those Old, Bold Fighter Pilots’
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