Part Two: Battleground

Battle of Daejeon Memorial (City Hall area)

July 17, 1950 - The defensive areas out by the Geum River at Gongju and Sejong have been largely overrun, although units are attempting a strategic retreat against the oncoming tide of North Korean tanks and infantry.  The city is beginning to feel the pressure.  The first part of the Battle of Daejeon is over.  The second is about to begin.

The American units in the city are more than aware that the North Koreans have largely breached the first defensive line and are in the process of surrounding the city from all sides.  But there is more unsettling news from the front lines north of town, just south of the Keum River.

On the evening of July 16th, on a mountain above the village of Tuman, around 20 unarmed, critically wounded soldiers, and Chaplain Herman G. Felhoelter, have been murdered by North Korean soldiers, specifically a patrol that had happened upon the group, as it was resting on a hillside. The attack, which has been titled (somewhat clinically) as the "Chaplain-Medic massacre" was witnessed from some distance away through binoculars by members of the 19th Infantry.  Felhoelter would be the first of a number of military chaplains to lose their lives in the conflict.

A 1954 government report detailing out numerous Korean War atrocities, included this exchange between Senator Charles E. Potter, and a firsthand witness, and the sole survivor, the regimental medical officer, Captain Linton J. Buttrey, who had been tending to the soldiers, and who managed to escape even after he had been shot in the ankle:

Potter: Was he marked as a chaplain with a white cross? 

Buttrey: Yes, sir; he was. 

Potter: What happened to him? 

Buttrey: He got killed, sir. 

Potter: What was he doing at the time he was killed?

Buttrey: He was administering last rites, extreme unction, to the patients.

Potter: He was administering the last rites to the patient, to a patient on a litter?

Buttrey: Yes. 

Potter: And how did they kill him?

Buttrey: He was shot in the back, sir. 

Hearing this alarming report, and knowing that they are being surrounded fills the soldiers with a grim sense of expectancy, the anticipation of the tough fight to come.  The troops in Daejeon are under no illusions about their role, which is to stand fast, fight the North Koreans as long as possible, and then escape at the last minute southeast on the road to Okcheon.

---

It is challenging to piece together the "places" of the Battle of Daejeon.  We know, in general, where the battle occured, but finding the exact locations, the evidence of the struggle, requires a detective's skill and a historian's zeal for specificity.

I remember, for example, in October of 2019, walking along the Geum riverfront area between Daejeon and Sejong, and looking about, attempting to recreate in my mind's eye the possibilities of a battle long gone.  Where did the American defenses set up?  Were they digging in close to the river, or were they on an elevated ridge line further back?  How high was the river during that hot summer?

And what of evidence of battle?  Were there bullets, helmets, and shell casings still lying on the river bottom, waiting to be dredged into sunlight?  Has there ever been a thought to raise a sign somewhere along the riverside park area, which lines both sides of the river, marking the location of a battle from long ago?

On the north bank of the Keum River (North Korean forces location
at the beginning of the battle) looking toward Daejeon. 
Those buildings are all very recent, and both sides of the
river have seen intense construction during the last decade.

I come from a country, the United States, which has religiously zoned off and preserved battlefields, going all the way back to the Revolutionary War and Civil War periods, places like Gettysburg and Vicksburg.  You can walk acres and acres of these lands in 2020, and still see the landscape from the eyes of a ground-level soldier.  Gazing down from the heights atop Burnside's Bridge at Antietam, you can put yourself in the shoes of a Georgian soldier in 1862 firing his rifle, and then walk down the hill, cross Antietam Creek, and imagine charging with the 6th New Hampshire infantry as you rush the bridge.  This is tactile history.

Korea, for a variety of reasons, has this to a much lesser degree, but they do exist, especially for older battlefields from more ancient history (an example being Ugeumchi Battlefield in Gongju), but they aren't nearly as comprehensive.  Cities like Daejeon, with more sprawling, recent battles, have simply put up a few monuments and markers, leaving only a few scattered clues for military historians.  The rest waits to be filled in through diligent research by those who care.

Part of my understanding is how much things have changed over six decades.  Anyone who has lived in Korea can attest to the rapid rate of building, and change.  Sejong, the city to the north of the river, didn't even exist as a physical entity until 2012, and is still under construction.  The soldiers of 1950 faced a far different landscape when they fought their battles on this ground, less developed, fewer buildings, and over wider open terrain.  Whenever I access old newsreels from the Korean War, I see these differences clearly, even as I try to identify the familiar mountains that surround the city.

A view of Gongju and the Keum River, where the Battle of Daejeon began. 
North Koreans would have arrived on the newer north side of
the river to the left, while the U.S. soldiers would have been
in the old part of the city (south of the river) to the right.

Even Daejeon the city has changed dramatically, from a small city of 130,000 (1950) to almost 1.5 million (2019). The most intense fighting, at the end of the battle in 1950, occurred in the area in which I now live, in the southeastern older section of town between the Yudeungcheon and Daejeoncheon streams, where the train station and the central market, Eunhaengdong, call home.  Only last night, a fellow professor and I walked through the latter location, wondering at what lay buried beneath.  Where there any bones from the war paved over, lying under the cobblestones of the market area?

This city has grown much since the 1950's, practically rebuilding itself after the war, fostering myriad architectural and topographical changes.  The area where the City Hall now sits was the former site of the Taejeon Airfield, and was considered the western outskirts of Daejeon.  In 2020, that location is basically the center of this sprawling metropolis, and is now a thriving commercial and residential area.  The only reminders of the airport are a couple of jets which have been placed near the battle memorial. The sizeable reservoir on the east side of the city, and the Daecheong dam to the northeast, only became a reality in 1980.

Then there is always the matter of place name spellings over the years, as many of the Korean War era place names were spelled differently on U.S. Army maps (the preferred spelling of the time).  Daejeon was "Taejon."  Busan was "Pusan."  The Guem River was "Kum River."  This can add to the difficulty when one is googling for references and trying to align wartime maps with present reality.  Even in researching the July 16th massacre, I was getting nowhere on Google Maps until I zoomed in and located "Duman-ri" rather than "Tuman-ni."  

These are the complexities one faces when studying the Battle of Daejeon's locations 

The people and faces of the battle, including the looming visage of a general hefting a bazooka, will be examined as we moved forward in the battle.

The North Koreans are closing in, getting closer to Daejeon.  Who will etch their name into history in the days to come?