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lessonslearned About-face I


On a trip to inventory equipment, a soldier pays more attention to socializing than he does to the route — with potentially fatal consequences.


In late February 1953, after eight con- secutive weeks on Pork Chop Hill and Hill 200 in Korea, our unit was to be replaced by another, and we were to move to the east. Two days prior to the relief, my com-


pany commander ordered me to inven- tory all equipment we would be taking over. I met with a lieutenant from that unit the next day, and we rode in his jeep to his unit’s area. We had become famil- iar at Fort Dix, N.J., and we renewed our acquaintance as we drove along the road, while I paid little attention to our travel or landmarks. A couple of hours later, I had completed the inventory and been driven back to my unit. The relief went off without a hitch, and


fi nally we were ready to move out. But there were no guides! The company commander turned to me and said, “Eric, you’re the only one who has been where we’re supposed to be going. Lead the way!” I pro- tested, telling him I had paid scant atten- tion to the route in the fi rm belief we would have guides. He repeated, “There’s no one else. You are it!” I led our company of infantry out under


blackout conditions, destination uncertain. Fortunately, there was some moonlight, and some things started to look familiar: a large rock and a ruin of a house or a tree. I soon saw a sign from the day before. So far, so good. I saw a trail off to the left but thought it was much too soon to turn. Con-


76 MILITARY OFFICER NOVEMBER 2011 assumptions


tinuing, I realized I recognized none of the surroundings. A cold sweat broke on the back of my neck. We had to turn around; we had no choice. I stopped the convoy. After many stops and starts and back-and- forth maneuvers — with each trailer having to be unhitched and turned by hand — we managed to turn all of the vehicles around. The noise we made was earsplitting. Finally, we reached our intended loca- tion and posted guards, and the troops headed for some well-deserved rest. Unable to sleep, I climbed a hill where I could see the valley below. I then realized our turn- around point was in no-man’s land. Why that road was not blocked, guard- ed, or mined I could not understand. And why the enemy failed to fi re on us — as we


made horrendous noises at night, only a short distance from them — remains a mys- tery. As I realized the gravity of what might have happened, it drove home some basic lessons: Never take anything for granted. Never relax in combat, when lives are at risk. And fi nally, when you do screw up, a dose of extraordinary luck helps.


MO


— Eric H. Vieler is a retired Army colonel who lives in San Francisco. For submission informa- tion, see page 18.


Tell Your Story Submit your lessons learned by email to profseries@moaa.org or by mail to MOAA Professional Series, 201 N. Washington St., Al- exandria, VA 22314. All submissions will be con- sidered for publication. Comment on the latest lesson or share your own at www.moaa.org/ lessonslearned.


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