The Chosin Reservoir

By Bob Hammond
7th Infantry Division
57th Field Artillery BattalionAnd bled to death,

In The hills of North Korea At the Chosin Reservoir.,
By the lake of azure blue.
Rides a farmer in his ox-cart,
On the road to Hagaru.
He is singing songs of history,
That his Father taught to him.
As his eyes survey the scenery,
That's no longer gray and grim.
In his mind he hears the canons,
The recoiless rifle's roar.
In the chatter on the burp guns,
All around the Reservoir.
Mortars crashing, carbines flashing,
Screaming men and boys.
Bugles, flairs and howlitzers,
A symphony of noise.
He is thinking of his childhood,
When he saw the soldier come.
To the peaceful mountain valley,
That had never heard a gun.
And he's never understood it,
He will always wonder why.
Why so many men had come there,
from so far away, to die.
How they fought with savage fury,
Agonizing through the snow,
Fingers turning black with frostbite,
Death was sweeping to and fro.
MacLean and Faith, Commanders,
Hodge, and thousands more.
Fought and froze,

In the hills of North Korea,
By a lake of icy blue.
There's no monument to witness,
And no crosses are in view.
Just some land of little value,
Covered well by fallen snow.
But they say to listen carefully,
When the wind begins to blow.
And you will hear the ghostly bugles,
From the mountain pass, nearby.
You may hear the battle spreading,
from the mountains to the sky.
Lives were ending, futures pending,
Fate was casting dice.
Some would live, and some will die,
Karma, carved in ice.
The battle long is over now,
But fought each night anew.
In dreams of those who can't forget,
They're called, "The Chosin Few".
So, let the veterans tell their stories,
Let the legend live and grow.
Let the Chosin be remembered,
With the men of Alamo.
With Bastogne and with Wake Island,
And the Bunker Hill command.
And where there's courageous men,
To take a valiant stand.
Once they fought to save a nation,
They could not have offered more.
Than the sacrifices made there,
At the Chosin Reservoir.
In the bitter Bloody battles,
At the Chosin Reservoir.

Return to Poems Selection Return to Main Page