By Suzanne Rice

By Suzanne Rice wife of COL Bill Rice, 1-36 Field Artillery, Augsburg, West Germany

In late August, Bill and I returned to Germany for our honeymoon following our wedding in Southern Illinois. At the time, he was the Battery Commander of B Battery, 1-36 FA in Augsburg. Bill had planned a fairy tale honeymoon in Berchtesgaden where we stayed in the historic General Walker Hotel, formerly the Platterhof. (To us, The General Walker Hotel was just a beautiful, old hotel used as a recreation center for American soldiers serving in Europe. In fact, the Platterhof had been used by the Nazi party from 1936 and one room is known as the place where one chapter of Mein Kampf was penned. The Platterhof had tunnels and bunkers that connected it to other Nazi sites around Bertschesgarden. This was not Bill’s first touch with Germany’s recent dark history – his first assignment after graduation from West Point was to Dachau, site of one of the most infamous concentration camps of WWII. He

and other bachelor officers lived in the barracks that had served as home to the concentration camp staff officers.) During Bill’s honeymoon leave, we went on a lovely cruise on the Konigsee, to Hitler’s Eagles Nest, and on a tour of nearby Salzburg, Austria. One evening, we were told that at twilight the Olympic torch bearers for the 1972 Olympics would run past the hotel, so we were there to join in the festivities – an added treat since we had tickets for early September for several Olympic events including field hockey and swimming in Munich and canoe slalom in Augsburg.) I had purchased tickets for these Olympic events while I was in the U.S.A. (American military members could get Olympic tickets, but only by lottery. On the other hand, I was able to purchase tickets in the US – whatever was available when my request was received.) It was a great treat for my family when the tickets arrived at our home in our small Midwestern town. Who else in Centralia would be going to the Olympics? I was even given press credentials by my hometown newspaper in case I was able to use it in some way when I arrived in Germany. I was not able to translate these hometown papers into official press credentials, but I did write an article for the Centralia Evening Sentinel after attending the games.)

We should have known in the era of the Vietnam War that our fairy tale could not last long. Many of Bill’s friends and classmates were serving not in Germany, but on the battlefields of Vietnam. In fact, he came home from his first day back to work after our honeymoon with orders for Vietnam. His three years in Germany would be over in January, so he had been awaiting orders for his next assignment. Being unfamiliar with Army life, I had not been aware of what might be lurking around the next corner! We had no time to dwell on that assignment, months in the future, because life in B Battery kept Bill busy and I was learning what it meant to be a part of Army life. In those years of the draft Army in Germany, Bill was dealing with racial tensions, and alcohol and drug abuse among his soldiers; many had been given a ticket to join the Army instead of going to jail! He had had a knife pulled on him during barracks room inspections and had been pushed down the stairs by a disgruntled soldier; he even had his tires slashed twice. His car set idle for months while his father in St. Louis tried to figure out how to purchase and ship tires to him – no German tires would fit his graduation Pontiac LeMans. Besides personnel issues, his main task as the Battery Commander of an 8 inch nuclear-capable howitzer battery was to be accountable for all the equipment, maintenance and strict standards in preparation for their use should they be called upon on that frontier of the Cold War. Quite a responsibility for our young officers!

Bill was able to break away from his responsibilities for a little while so that we could use our Olympic tickets. It was a festive experience; we were in Munich only a few days before the Olympic Massacre of the Israeli athletes. That startling and horrifying tragedy brought a pall over all of Germany and having just been to the Olympic site ourselves, it was a great sadness to us. We had no idea what was to lay ahead just a month later in Augsburg.

In mid-October, we were jostled from sleep by a phone call about 4 a.m. Bill got into his uniform and left immediately without explanation. The battalion was having its monthly hail and farewell later that evening. I did not hear from Bill throughout the day; I had no way to contact him at the battery so I had to wait patiently for news from him. Having taken a cake decorating class, my most recent project was expected to be a part of the refreshments for the get-together, so I needed to get to Reese Barracks to help set up the refreshments; Bill had our only car so that was beginning to seem impossible. As the time for the event approached, I decided to call the Battalion Commander’s wife to let her know I might not be at the hail and farewell after all. She was not surprised because her husband had had the same early morning call and she had not heard a word from him all day, either. By the next day, we knew why. They had been dealing with a puzzle: several German nationals had been murdered and a German-national wife of an American soldier had been attacked and raped. Our husbands had been working with the MP’s, the Augsburg Polizei and CID trying to figure out who had done this horrible thing. It took several days to get the puzzle pieces put together. During that first day, clues developed that indicated soldiers in 1-36 FA might have been involved. It took several more days for the story to become clear. One soldier bragged to his barracks roommate that he had been involved with the incident with several other B Battery soldiers – the roommate did not believe him. At that, the bragging soldier said, “Let’s go, I will show you where we left the bodies.” Gruesome, but true. When they arrived at the site, the police were there and immediately arrested the soldier, who was still bragging. It was then easier to find the other two soldiers. Bill spent much of the rest of the time left in Germany coping with judicial hearings, visits to the prisoners in Nuremburg, and caring for relatives of the accused soldiers who arrived without warning. All three soldiers were eventually convicted of both murders and the rape and because they were not were considered adults by German law, they could only get a maximum sentence of ten years in a German prison. Because of the proximity to the Munich Olympic Massacre, the people of Augsburg, who were rightly enraged by the actions of these soldiers, called this incident the Augsburg Massacre. It was a difficult blow to German-American relations at that time.

Bill’s last months in Germany were exceedingly eventful and stressful. In late January, with our household goods packed for shipment and the car steaming toward the U.S.A., we spent the last few days in the transient quarters. While we were there, we heard on the radio that U.S. Secretary of State Henry Kissinger had negotiated an exit for U.S. troops from Vietnam. THE WAR WAS OVER! Now, where would Bill go? When he called the Military Personnel Center in Washington, DC, they said just to go home and wait for a call, so that is we did. We were happy to leave behind the difficulties of the past few months, but wondered what might be next!

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 25, 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 riverbank 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, 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, USMA Class of 1947) 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!