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My Least Favorite Situation I was the operator (SCR 300) for Weapons Company. The prior night we had a serious encounter with a number of Chinese soldiers across the creek from our CP as well as a rather personal encounter with a T-34 tank that had gotten a little further forward than he had anticipated where he felt the fury of 1/7. We had moved north to Sudong and had set up in some trenches on the high ground just to the east of the road. Across the road was a narrow valley with an icy but running stream. We were still wearing high top boondockers and leggings. I had personally, moved down from my position to pick up some gear from the road, when we received some incoming artillery fire. Even though my combat career had been short at the time, I had learned to take cover quickly, so moved rapidly toward the road and its adjacent roadside ditches. During the move toward these positions, two buildings, probably residences had been destroyed by fire. The ground through the burned out structures was fairly level so i must have decided to run through the till smoldering structure. As I ran over the ashes, watching the placement of each footstep, my right foot penetrated the black ash and a greenish, yellowish, orange fissure developed under my foot. As if in slow motion, my leg dropped into the liquid mass, up to my knee. I had really stepped in sh--t. My first encounter with a honey pot. I actually forgot momentarily about the incoming and headed straight fro the creek. I washed my shoes as well as i could and abandoned one legging but my utility trousers had been soaked as well. Returning to my position on the hillside and resuming my radio operator duties, I found none of the reliving operators from the Company CP were eager to spend much time close to me and my radio. Shortly thereafter. we were issued shoepacs and the smell was gone. It just goes to show us, that while most Marines can walk on water, few of us can step in sh-t and come out smelling like a rose.
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