By Suzanne Rice

By Suzanne Rice, wife of COL Bill Rice, 1-15 Field Artillery, Camp Stanley, Korea

After we moved into a larger place in Ui Jong Bu, Bill decided that we could use an American refrigerator. So, off we went shopping at the Post Exchange in Yongsan (Seoul) about an hour ride on the bus. (No American soldiers had cars there.) We found a mid-sized refrigerator there that fit our purposes and arranged to have it delivered. No Korean in the neighborhood had such an appliance and they were fascinated when it arrived one afternoon. The whole Kyong family (our landlords) came in the apartment to see what it was. Grandma Kyong happened to be there on

that day and we tried to explain to her what it was (no English for her and only a little Korean for me). It was not clear to her, until we opened the door of the refrigerator. It was a blazing hot day and she could not believe it when the cold air rushed out of the refrigerator door. In fact, she would not close the door, but wanted to just stand in it the rest of the afternoon! Without the refrigerator, I would have had to shop daily at the Korea market that was a block or two away, but there was not much I would have liked to eat there. Instead, once a month or so, I would get on the Korean bus in Ui Jong Bu, take it for an hour to the Commissary, shop and, then, take a taxi back to Ui Jong Bu with my purchases. It was an all-day process.

One evening, after I got back from my work day at St. Louis High School at Camp Stanley, I started to cook the meal for that evening. I was in the midst of using all of our appliances (the electric skillet and the hot plate) when the transformer on the refrigerator kicked on. All of the lights went out! I had overloaded the circuit and was left in the dark. Not knowing what to do and not speaking enough Korean to explain to anyone what had happened, I went out on the front steps to try to figure out what to do. The stars were out and the sky was black, even though it was only 6 p.m. After sitting there a moment, I realized why it was so dark. I had shut down the electrical circuit for the entire town! There was not a single light on in the city of Ui Jong Bu. Nothing to do but wait until it could be put back in order. Nothing to eat that night!

By Suzanne Rice, wife of COL Bill Rice, 1-15 Field Artillery, Camp Stanley, Korea

Along with only two other American wives, I was living in Ui Jong Bu, Korea, while my husband was on an unaccompanied assignment in the Second Infantry Division. I had been in country since June 1973.

The soldiers of the Second Infantry Division were located at many camps near the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) and spent their time training, whether in their permanent camp (for Bill’s Battery and most of the rest of the Second Division Artillery – Camp Stanley) or at an outpost in or nearer the DMZ – Camp Stanley was only 15 miles from the DMZ. There was a schedule, so they knew when they would go and how long they would stay at their outpost. As the Coordinator of the St. Louis High School Program at Camp Stanley, I was kept aware of when certain units would be out in the field, so that those soldiers would be given an excused absence from their classes.

On October 6, 1973, without warning, all soldiers stationed at Camp Stanley disappeared. This was most unusual. When the teachers for St. Louis High School classes arrived to work that day, we were all surprised that there was no one there – well, only the Korean nationals who worked in the snack bar or other jobs around post. None of us could figure out what had happened to everyone.

We did not start to worry for the first 24 hours, but when their disappearance lasted longer, concern set in. Since we were not authorized to be there, it was not clear to us what we should do. Had another Korea War started? Where should we go? Since we would definitely stand out among the Korea population, as foreigners, at least, but probably also as Americans, we were puzzled about how to hide in plain sight. Our naïve answer was to get to the nearest river, hug the river bank and walk as far south as we could as quickly as possible, avoiding population centers. The river would surely take us away from danger. What we would do when we reached the ocean was not clear or how many days would it take. At least the weather was still warm, so we could survive outside, at least for some weeks. Surely whatever was going on would be over by then. We just knew that we should not stay so close to the DMZ. Having been a part of a Girl Scout troop that often lived primitively, I believed that we could survive using our hastily conceived plan.

As we were preparing our escape, the soldiers of Camp Stanley reappeared, slowly returning. What had happened to send them away, without warning, in the middle of the night? The entire U.S. Army worldwide had been placed on alert because of a surprise attack on Israel by Egyptian and Syrian forces. On Yom Kippur, the holiest day in Judaism and which that year occurred during the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, the Arab coalition of Egyptian and Syrian forces jointly attacked into the Israeli-occupied territories, entering the Sinai Peninsula and the Golan Heights which had been captured by Israel in the 1967 Six Day War. Both the U.S. and Russia, in the midst of the Cold War, began a gigantic resupply effort to their own allies; this almost led to a confrontation between the two nuclear superpowers.

All of this was unclear to the three American wives living within 15 miles of North Korea. Only after Camp Stanley was back to normal did the story come into focus as to where the soldiers had been and what they were doing. It was a scary few days for us. Luckily, we did not have to put our plan to use!

 

By Suzanne Rice, wife of COL Bill Rice, 1-15 Field Artillery, Camp Stanley, Korea

Best Battery Competition – 1973
Twice each year the Second Infantry Division Artillery held the DivArty Stakes. In this competition all the Artillery Battalions of the Division competed and each unit was tested after weeks of intense training and preparation. Every battery completed a direct and indirect fire course in which each battery section was scored on six specific performance standards. After several weeks of these competitions which included rifle marksmanship, a compass course, vehicle maintenance, first aid, assembly and disassembly of M-1 and M-60, a CBR (Chemical, Biological and Radiological) course, a communications test, a written test and a PT test,and the best individual soldier of the Division Artillery was named. The soldier who had done the best on each of the individual tests was also recognized as well as the best section and the best section chief.

The ultimate prize for the DivArty Stakes was to win the overall competition. The battery that earned this prize was named the Best Battery of the Division Artillery. Along with the designation of Best Battery, the winner of the competition became the Second Infantry Division Honor Battery. This was not just a ceremonial designation. With the awarding of the Best Battery prize came added responsibility: whenever there was any sort of official ceremony that included a salute in the Second Infantry Division or at the 8th Army Headquarters in Seoul, the honor battery would be called upon to attend the ceremony and perform the salute, normally a 21 gun salute. They not only would have to maintain their war-fighting standards, but they also had to practice for and travel to ceremonies throughout the Second Division.
In September 1973, Alpha Battery, 1-15 FA was named the Best Battery of the Division Artillery. In this particular case, the Second Infantry Division Commander General Henry Emerson (The Gunfighter) decided to give the members of the battery a special treat. He offered them a chance to fly to Chejudo Island, which lies off the southern coast of Korea. There was a U. S. Army R & R (Rest and Recuperation) facility there in which the soldiers would stay for a week – if they could pay for their own flight from Seoul to Chejudo. The soldiers had several months to save up for the flight which would cost around $100. Their accommodations and tours upon arrival would be their prize for a job well done. The week chosen for the trip was Thanksgiving week of 1973.

Most of the soldiers of Alpha Battery were able to save enough in the intervening months to take advantage of this once in a lifetime adventure.
The weeks before the trip were filled with excitement about what the adventure would be. The battery was to leave on a Sunday afternoon about 2 p.m. from Kimpo Airport in Seoul which was about an hour and a half bus drive from Camp Stanley. No one could have ever guessed how complicated it would be to get to the airport on time on that day.
About two o’clock in the morning that Sunday, Bill was awakened, not by his alarm clock but by the jingling of the telephone. The conversation went something like this, “Yes, sir; I will be right there.” He put on his uniform and went directly to the DivArty Headquarters, a five minute walk away. When he arrived, he, along with all the other battery commanders who had been similarly jostled out of bed at that strange hour, discovered what had caused them to rush to the headquarters. U.S. Army Korea had decided that this was the day that all MPC (Military Payment Certificates) would be changed to U.S. dollars. Since the time of the Korean War twenty years before, all American forces had been paid in MPC’s rather than U.S. dollars. For some reason, that Sunday was the day that all MPCs would be turned in to be replaced with the same value in U.S. currency. In order for there to be no difficulties in the change-over, it was started without warning in the middle of the night. Soldiers were roused out of bed, told to bring all the MPC in their possession and to report to their own battery headquarters where the battery commander, as the paymaster would collect the MPC’s and give the equivalent amount of American dollars to the soldier (at that time the battery commander would sign for all the money needed to pay each soldier in the battery and personally dispense to them their pay twice each month in cash). When that was done, the soldier could go back to bed! The Battery Commander on the other hand had to count and account for each MPC received and each dollar dispensed. From the soldier’s point of view, it was a long night; from the commander’s point of view, it was a long night and a long morning – or would it be longer? What about the flight to Chejudo? It was not clear at the time if all of the soldiers and particularly the commander could get to Seoul in time to board the plane. It was a commercial airline so the flight would go without us. Happily, at nearly noon, the MPC turnover was complete, Bill was given permission to leave and we raced to the airport in a “kimchi” cab (often a three-wheeled vehicle), making it just in time. It had been a long day of uncertainty.

What did we find at Chejudo? As the only wife in the Battery, I was allowed to go but with the same requirement – that I would pay my own way. I was not allowed to stay at the recreation center, so Bill arranged a Korean motel near the R & R center. It seemed like a lovely place until we tried to eat our first meal – though the eggs looked normal and the tea was hot, neither were edible upon tasting. What to do? Since I was not authorized to eat in the mess hall, we went to a tiny shopette at the R & R facility to see what our alternatives might be. What we ate each day for breakfast was V-8 juice and fig bars. That was the closest we could come to anything resembling breakfast in the shopette! Though it was considered a tourist destination at the time, we found the island to be rural with many roads unpaved except in the small town which we visited. The American R & R facility was also rustic as it had been set up as a site for pheasant hunting. Because we would be there for Thanksgiving, the soldiers of the battery were invited to have Thanksgiving dinner in the mess hall there. Whoever had come for the hunting season generously offered nature’s bounty for our Thanksgiving dinner – Korean pheasant. For most of us, it was the first taste of that delicacy. Besides the unusual pheasant for Thanksgiving, our dinner was a joyous event that reflected the normal American feast of mashed potatoes and gravy, veggies, sweet potatoes. We were impressed with the success and the generosity of the pheasant hunters and that there was enough to feed more than one hundred visiting soldiers. It was a most memorable

Thanksgiving celebration, so far away from home. The battery was grateful for the kindness of the visiting sportsmen.
On a tour of the island, we took the bus into Jeju City for lunch where we witnessed the local horses, lined up at the curb ready for their carts to be filled, helping themselves to whatever was in the cart in front. We wondered if the owners of the horses munching away at his neighbors expense ever realized the situation. We hiked up HallaSan (Halla Mountain) where we found a Buddhist temple high up the mountain, with a crypt full of Buddha statues. As we were walking near the ocean one day, we found a gigantic concrete abalone shell that we could walk into to look out over the Korea Strait. Just at that moment, we noticed a group of women dressed in black diving suits. (It was November, cold and windy.) As we watched them step into the sea, we noted that their equipment consisted only of a ball and a net. What were they doing? As we watched, we found that they were searching for abalone; the ball floated on the surface of the sea holding the net, while the ladies dove deep to harvest the delicacy. Returning to the surface, they put the abalone shells into the floating nets and then dove right back under the water. It was amazing to see how they bobbed in the ocean and seemed to find what they were looking for – but it took hours in the cold, winter water.
The trip was a wonderful adventure and a great reward for a job well done – a unique experience for the soldiers of Alpha Battery, 1-15 FA and a terrific Thanksgiving week!

By Suzanne Rice,  St. Louis High School Coordinator, wife of COL Bill Rice, 1-15 Field Artillery, Camp Stanley, Korea

Leaving Germany just as the peace treaty ending the Vietnam War was signed, Bill and I went back to St. Louis to visit family, not knowing what Bill’s next assignment would be. While on leave, he got a call from the Pentagon telling him his orders would be an unaccompanied year-long tour in the Second Division Artillery in Korea. Since I would not be authorized to go, I found a job in my hometown teaching sociology until the end of the school year in the local high school where I had done my student teaching four years before.

Not long after Bill arrived at Camp Stanley, he called home saying he had just seen a college roommate in Ui Jong Bu. His friend had his wife and two year old daughter living there with him. It seemed to me if they could be there, so could I. We decided that he would find a place for us (more correctly, me) to live in Ui Jong Bu – about 15 miles from the Demilitarized Zone. Even though I was not authorized to be there, I bought a ticket and prepared to start a new adventure.

We did not know at the time that MG Henry Emerson, the Second Division Commander, had decided to begin a new program – education classes for every soldier in the Division. Great idea – but where were the teachers to come from?

At that time, the years of the draft Army, there were many soldiers that did not have their high school diplomas. So, Gen Emerson decided that each soldier in the Division could benefit from a class, GED, MOS (Military Occupational Specialty), or college courses offered at the education center. Each soldier was either in a class or teaching a class. That still left a big gap, especially for those trying to do their GED. In order to fill the gap, the Second Infantry Division contracted with St. Louis High School of Hawaii to provide the materials and the teachers for this part of the program.

In that regard, my timing was perfect. I was recruited to teach the GED government class, weekly. Many of my students were soldiers in A Battery, 1-15 FA where Bill was the battery commander. There were no unexcused absences in my class! Eventually, I was given a new job – Coordinator of the St. Louis High School program at Camp Stanley. We had a remedial reading program for those soldiers who did not have reading skills up to the 6^th grade level, and at the high school level English, Math and U.S. Government classes and even a whole Quonset hut set up as a St. Louis High School office and reading center. Many soldiers were able to earn their GED before leaving Korea thanks to the efforts of MG Emerson. There were only two other American wives who had followed their husbands to Camp Stanley – without authorization – but I was able to put them to work teaching the soldiers and they were much appreciated for their contributions to the Division Education Program!

By Suzanne Rice, wife of COL Bill Rice, 1-15 Field Artillery, Camp Stanley, Korea

Most people think that a big bureaucracy like the U.S. Army, one of the largest organizations in the world, must be quite impersonal. At times, it certainly feels like that to the individual soldier. Paperwork, requirements, deadlines, “hurry up and wait” all contribute to that feeling. However, at its base, the U.S. Army is made up of people, many amazing and caring people who look after those with whom they work and on whom they depend each day. The soldiers of each command are responsible for each other and for their family members – at its heart, it is a very large family.

One day in March 1974, as I sat at my desk at St. Louis High School at Camp Stanley, I received a call from the Assistant S-3 of the Division Artillery. As I answered the call saying “St. Louis High School” and learned that the call was from the DivArty Headquarters, I assumed that the call would be some sort of St. Louis High School business; perhaps, a soldier in the Headquarters would not be available for class that day. I was intrigued when I was asked to give the Assistant S-3 my social security number and “don’t tell Bill.” They would call me later with more information.

It would have been quite difficult for me to tell Bill anything at that time, because he and his battery were at Firebase 4P1 near the Demilitarized Zone and we had little communication while he and his soldiers were training there “in the field.” Even though I had no idea what the secret was, it was not a hard secret to keep since I had many things to do to get ready to leave Korea for Bill’s next assignment at the Field Artillery Advanced Course, at Ft. Sill, Oklahoma. I had to hand over the St. Louis High School program to another program director and to prepare our limited household goods for shipment back to the U.S. A.

Not long after the first call, I had a second call explaining to me what the mystery was. The Division Artillery Commander had come up with an amazing adventure for me and for Bill, whose battery had won the DivArty “Best Battery” competitions twice in the year he was in Korea. As Army timing would have it, Bill’s Change of Command ceremony, officially handing command of his battery to another battery commander, would occur at 4P1 rather than at Camp Stanley where most of these ceremonies took place. I had been to several Changes of Command already and if Bill’s Change of Command had been at Camp Stanley like the others, I would have walked over from the St. Louis High School office to stand at the periphery to watch and later to congratulate the out-going and in-coming commanders.

Bill and his battery had gone to Firebase 4P1 innumerable times to train (two weeks out of each six weeks throughout the year-long tour in Korea) where they were to support U.S. Army MP’s who were the only ones allowed in the DMZ itself and were a sort of “trip wire” should there be some provocative incident from the North Koreans. Because they had spent so much time at 4P1, it seemed quite appropriate that Bill would change command there. It was also clear that I would not attend that ceremony.

The DivArty Commander had a different idea – he would bring me along as he and his Assistant DivArty S-3, went up to 4P1. Civilians were not allowed that close to (less than 2 miles) the Demilitarized Zone except on closely guarded and supervised bus tours to Panmunjom. How to get me to the Change of Command? The DivArty Commander decided to fly me in his helicopter. In order to do that, official orders were cut for me. With those orders which required my social security number, I became a member of the crew. On the way up to the ceremony, the helicopter was manned by the pilot and the DivArty Commander in the front, the Assistant S-3 and me in the back seats!

My presence at the Change of Command was kept a surprise to all at the ceremony until I came walking down the sidewalk at the side of the DivArty Commander with the Assistant S-3 following behind us. Bill was completely shocked to find me at the ceremony, but it went off without a hitch. There was a nice reception in the mess hall, thanks to the good cooks of the battery, to welcome their new commander. When Bill had said his brief goodbyes and the DivArty Commander was ready to return to Camp Stanley, he told Bill to come along to the landing zone. It was not clear how five of us were going to go back in the helicopter meant for a crew of four. And what about Bill’s field gear? Problem solved: the Assistant S-3 would stay behind and find a ride back to Camp Stanley later; he would bring Bill’s gear back with him. As we left Firebase 4P1, the DivArty Commander told the pilot to “buzz” the base as a special farewell to A Battery 1-15 FA.

Forty years later I learned from another officer who had been in the DivArty Headquarters at Camp Stanley at the same time in 1973-74 just how close I had been to the North Korean border. Not sure how many other civilian wives were given that amazing opportunity – it was a great honor to be treated so well by the officers and soldiers of our U.S. Army. The Army is not so impersonal, after all!