Three outposts—Tom, Dick and Harry—protected the 3rd Infantry Division’s main position. On Harry, two platoons from the division prepared to withdraw. “Not a day went by while we were on Harry that we didn’t lose a couple of guys to enemy artillery,” recalled Ola Mize, who was serving as assistant platoon leader at the time with Company K, 3rd Battalion, 15th Infantry.
On the evening of June 10, 1953, Mize and four men had just returned to their positions after reconnoitering routes for the withdrawal the next day. A short time later, Chinese artillery fire began falling like hail on the finger-shaped hill. Huddled in their bunkers, the GIs dared not move during the thunderous barrage.
Mize—who requested a transfer to Korea after a two-year hitch with the 82nd Airborne—had been with the company only a few months. During that time, he had witnessed dozens of Chinese trucks unloading men and equipment less than 3,000 yards away. But his requests for artillery fire went unheeded, because no one believed him.
Learning of a wounded GI 150 yards downslope, Mize and a volunteer medic made their way to the man, returning him to safety. Enemy infantry had joined the attack. Mize gunned down several Chinese soldiers who were jumping into the American trenches as he made his way to the second platoon.
Along the way, he found a bunker almost completely collapsed from enemy shelling, where a few survivors were half-buried in dirt, wood and rocks. Mize pulled several men clear, then discovered that his weapon was the only one working. The others were clogged with dirt.
He posted himself in the shadows of the bunker door as more of the enemy began pouring into the trench. “I thought I’d bought the farm,” Mize recalled. “I just knew I was going to die. I knew it. I accepted it. All I wanted to do was take as many of them with me as I could.”
Mize threw a grenade down the trench, but the enemy persisted in their charge. Mize put his carbine on full automatic and began spraying the advancing Chinese. Pvt. Allan England and Cpl. James Kelly loaded magazines and passed them to Mize.
At one point, a group of enemy soldiers charged, and Mize opened fire. From the hand of one of them rolled a grenade. The blast blew Mize back into the bunker. Stunned, he groped for his carbine in the darkness, found it and returned to his post.
The barrage continued, and several of the rounds exploded near Mize, completely lifting him out of the trench. His helmet was gone, and his flak jacket was smoldering. Each time a blast hit, Mize suffered repeated wounds and concussions, but somehow he made it back to his position.
This lasted for more than two hours, when England told him they were running low on ammo. Mize waved the two GIs away from their post. As they left, the young private couldn’t help but to notice the pile of enemy bodies stacked up in the trench. Later, 47 dead Chinese were counted in that spot.
When the little group of men led by Mize came upon the platoon’s main bunker, they found only dead men, friendly and enemy. They did uncover some working weapons and ammunition, though, and even a radio. The group built a makeshift barrier, and Mize called for artillery fire.
“ Lay it on me,” he shouted. “Right on top of us!” When the man refused because there were GIs there, Mize yelled, “Not many. There’s a lot more of them than there is of us. Fire away!”
Within minutes, friendly fire broke over the hill. Mize deeply regretted that some Americans were killed, but it couldn’t be helped. His radio was damaged, and a sergeant trying to reach him told his lieutenant, “Everyone on Harryis dead. Only Chinese left up there now.” But it wasn’t true. Indestructible Ola Mize and about 15 others fought on. Mize moved among the men, encouraging them and urging them to keep up the fight.
By two the next morning, the enemy attack had slackened, and Mize ordered his men to withdraw. As they carefully moved down the hill, they heard voices—Chinese voices. The GIs had stumbled on a group of some 30 unsuspecting enemy. “It was hell,” Mize said. “I’m trying to shoot all these Chinese, and I keep stepping on this guy laying between my feet. I was afraid I’d fall down and they’d get us. Finally, I yanked him to his feet and we got out of there.”
The two returned to the platoon bunker, where they continued to fight off periodic enemy assaults. At dawn, the Chinese began pulling back from Harry, prompting Mize to once more move his men out. At 8 a.m., a friendly relief company arrived and swept over the hill. The scene was one of mass destruction. Not a bunker remained intact and most of the trench line had collapsed. Dead soldiers littered the landscape. Of the 40 Americans on Harry at the start of the battle, twelve survived.
Mize refused to leave Korea and Company K until, after a year, he was ordered back to the United States to receive the Medal of Honor. The ceremony took place in Denver at the summer White House on Sept. 7, 1954.
Third Infantry Division troops engage Chinese forces near the village of Uijong-Bu in 1951. Some two years later, they and Mize would be in the fight of their lives near Surang-ni. -Courtesy U.S. Army
Mize rejoined the 82nd Airborne and was commissioned, eventually rising to the rank of colonel. He served 20 years in the Green Berets, with four of them spent in Southeast Asia, where he was wounded three times. The soft-spoken Alabaman subsequently commanded the Special Forces Schools at Fort Bragg, N.C., until his retirement in June 1981.
Colonel Mize has also been awarded these medals:
Bronze Star - Good Conduct with Two Loops - National Defense Service - Korean Service with Two Bronze Stars - United Nations Service.
Today's Educational Sources and suggestions for further reading:
Two Hills, One Nightmare, by Lane Phalen http://www.ophsa.org/OPHSA_Intro.htm
