“There was a movement on our right. Probably a scout. We let him pass. Another passed even closer. Then a compact mass of men came within our sights on the scarp and the beach below. ‘Give it to them, Chae,’ I whispered, and as he opened up, I started chucking grenades as fast as I could. It was short. They went down like tenpins, and those that didn’t scurried for cover under the scarp.
It was all we could do. I placed a grenade on the breech of the gun and we raced away through our familiar camp area. We hadn’t gone twenty yards when we heard high-pitched scream behind us that brought us to a stunned halt. Lim. That was Lim. We both recognized her voice, even in terror. Back we went now, crouching and beating toward the beach from where the scream had come.
We snaked over the scarp. The beach was free of Reds. They’d taken to the high ground in pursuit of us, but a white patch half hung over the scarp ahead. Chae was there before me. It was Lim. Blood covered her face and bare breasts. Her small shoulder jacket had been jerked off in tossing her aside. The side of her head had been caved in by a single blow, probably from a rifle.
‘Come, Chae, we must get out of here,’ I said as gently as possible, but with urgency.
‘No, Taicho-san, leave me. She must be taken care of. I won’t leave her to the Red dogs. I’m going with her.’ His voice was coarse with passion and hatred.
‘You can do nothing, Chae,’ I said, misunderstanding the implication. ‘Come. If you wish, we’ll take her with us,’ and I moved forward to pick her up. He brushed me aside and gave me a shove that threw me down to the beach. Before I could recover my feet, a jagged explosion rent the air and felled me again. Chae had blown himself to bits with a grenade.
I picked myself up, cursing at the things love made people do, and headed for the mudflat.” – Commander Eugene Franklin Clark, USN, The Secrets of Inchon