The United States became involved in the Korean War on June 25, 1950, when President Harry S. Truman ordered American forces into action after communist North Korea invaded South Korea.

Frank Geraci, a board member of the Santa Clara County chapter of the Korean War Veterans Association, says the south was totally unprepared for the attack from the north—lacking training, weaponry and general military expertise.

Geraci belonged to the U.S. Army's 24th Infantry Division—the first to respond to the conflict. He says the food, ammunition and weapons used during the Korean War were surplus from World War II. "Our anti-tank ammunition would bounce off the Russian tanks. We lost an awful lot of men because the army was unprepared and we weren't up to date."

The Army, Navy, Air Force, Marine Corps, Coast Guard and Merchant Marines served in the Korean War with distinction. The U.S. military, along with the armed forces of 21 other countries, fought to maintain a free and democratic South Korea.

Some Korean War veterans believe that more than 54,000 men were killed and 103,000 men were wounded during the conflict. Government statistics, however, indicate total American deaths to be 36,570. The armistice was signed on July 27, 1953.

Geraci says the fact that Congress never declared the Korean conflict a war contributed to the American public's ignorance about the war, as well as weakened efforts among veterans to get recognition for their service.

"We never pushed it. We never said, 'Notice us—we were in the Korean War.' We came home and wanted to go about our business."

Lou Horyza, president of the Santa Clara County chapter of the Korean War Veterans Association, says that times have changed and veterans' groups are now reacquainting people with the Korean War.

"It's getting harder to find veterans to carry the flags during the parades. We're getting old."

While Americans may have forgotten about the Korean war, the South Koreans have never forgotten, Horyza comments.

During his "Korea revisit tour," Oct. 12­20, Horyza says, South Korean government officials continued showing fervent appreciation to the veterans for their service.

"It was a very emotional experience for me," Horyza says, fighting back tears. "They are doing so well. Seoul and Ichong are beautiful places."

The 72-year-old Horyza served as a tank commander from April of 1952 to March of 1953. He was with the 45th division of the Oklahoma National Guard. During the war he had a four-men crew consisting of a gunner, driver, loader and main gunner. His job was to fire on targets to overtake hills and support ground infantry. When he returned to the United States he joined the National Guard, serving for 20 years and retiring as a captain. He married and had six children.

To this day, Horyza can't speak about his war memories.

Today, the only memorial or monument in the Bay Area that honors the Korean War veterans is at the San Joaquin Valley National Cemetery in Santa Nella. Concrete slabs there contain the names of 2,495 men from California who during the Korean War gave their last measure of valor to their country. The names are from those who were killed in action, missing in action or who died as prisoners of war.

During the 50th anniversary of the war, the nation has been honoring veterans for the sacrifices they made to ensure a free and democratic South Korea. The war lasted three years, 1950­1953.

The commemoration period began June 25, 2000 and will continue until Nov. 11, 2003.


A Veteran's Story

Frank Geraci, 72, was drafted in January of 1951 after finishing basic training in Camp Roberts.

Geraci was shipped to Korea in June of 1951, landing in Ichong. He was selected with 29 other men to take a six-week radio operations class in Korea and later dispersed throughout the 24^th Infantry Division.

When he appeared before his commander, he learned he would not be serving as a radio operator but as a "scout." The other men, he recalls, were asked to serve as "tankers."

Geraci says "scouts" were out in front of the patrol unit. "We were the eyes and ears of the 24th division," he says. "We were usually on an outpost, sitting out in front of our lines or running patrols into enemy lines."

Geraci served for five months, until he was wounded in action in November of 1951, spending a month in a Tokyo hospital. He was sent home to spend three more months in a hospital in Camp Cook, located in Lompoc, Calif.

He was then discharged from the service in October of 1952. He went home to his family in Glendale, where he dedicated himself to the title insurance business for 41 years. He married in 1957 and had four children.

His two younger brothers also served in the Armed Forces during the Korean War. His middle brother served in the U.S. Navy in a submarine off the coast of Korea and Russia in 1951 and 1952. His younger brother served in a Naval air station in San Diego.


Wounded in Action

Geraci remembers running from an outpost about a mile in front of friendly lines, checking roads for land mines. His patrol leader wandered into a minefield and was killed. Geraci was wounded with six pieces of shrapnel in his left leg from the mine that killed his comrade. He was also injured in his upper left chest area. Geraci was 21 years old. He remembers two members of his patrol unit sitting him on a rifle and carrying him to safety and the body of the patrol leader being placed in the same jeep.

The patrol leader lived for about a half-hour after being hit.

He received a Purple Heart while recovering from his injuries in the Tokyo hospital. The Order of the Purple Heart for military merit, commonly called "the Purple Heart," is an American decoration—the oldest military decoration in the world in present use and the first award made available to a common soldier. It was created by America's first president, George Washington.

Geraci dismisses the idea of his having any type of emotional or mental wound from the war. "We didn't know that the war could affect us that way back then. Most of us came home, got married and went to work.

"We tried to carry on with our lives the best we could," he said.

Several war memories still haunt him, particularly one from after the "fall offensive" of 1951. His company was pulled behind the lines, and he sat across the road from an aid station listening all night to artillery fire, and he couldn't sleep. As he lay awake, he saw hundreds of wounded and dead men brought to the aid station. The dead were wrapped in gray blankets. They were tagged and stacked along the road "like cordwood." A truck took the bodies away.

"I still see that today," he says. "It's something that just won't go away."


Murphy's Tale

Richard Murphy belonged to the U.S. Air Force Third Air Rescue Squadron, stationed in Seoul City. He was the first sergeant of his unit.

He was an enlisted soldier drafted during World War II. He joined the Air Force in 1938 training in Randolf Field, Texas as a flying cadet.

"I was not too successful at flight training," he says. "I washed out on flying and returned to civilian life."

Photograph by Jacqueline Ramseyer History Lesson: Richard Murphy holds up a photo of himself in Korea back in 1952.

He left his hospital job in January of 1952. He was reassigned to Hawaii and from there he was transferred to the Johnson Air Base in Japan, where he awoke to a view of Mount Fuji.

Then he was transferred to Detachment One of the Third Air Rescue Squadron in Korea as first sergeant. His job was to rescue pilots. Helicopters were manned with a pilot and an armed medic as they entered enemy territory. If a U.S. aircraft was shot down beyond the main line of resistance, all team pilots would fly around in a circle, covering for a rescue helicopter while it retrieved the downed pilot.

"They made some wonderful saves of pilots. We only lost one crew while I was there," he says.

He retired from the Air Force in 1963 and became employed by the city of Santa Clara as an electric and power dispatcher. He retired from that job in 1984.

Photograph by Jacqueline Ramseyer Air Force Alumni: Richard Murphy was drafted during World War II. He joined the U.S. Air Force in 1938, training at Randolf Field, Texas as a flying cadet.

He points to a black-and-white photograph of a tent he lived in while stationed in Yong Dong Po. He shows several pictures of smiling Korean children. He has many pictures of downtown Seoul and other street scenes of the Korean capital.

"There were children everywhere, and they loved to get candy and gum from the GIs," he says.

There's a photo of him driving a commander's jeep. He had to drive to Seoul City every day to pick up orders from Fifth Air Force headquarters

Although he was never in the battlefield and served behind friendly lines, he admits it was difficult to leave his wife, Catherine, and two children behind to go help with the war effort.

A photograph of the United Nations officers involved in the peace agreement brings back one of his favorite war memories. Murphy's airmen would carry them to their meeting place every day during the negotiations.

Murphy's thoughts on the Korean War: "It was a vicious conflict. The Marines and the army really took a beating."

He says about his fellow Korean War veterans, "I look on all veterans as brothers. We all picked up the same money from the same fellow—Uncle Sam."


Remembering the Dead

It's a Saturday afternoon in the Bay Area, and about two dozen members of the Santa Clara County chapter of the Korean War Veterans Association have gathered to honor the memory of their fallen comrades.

"The friendship which is engendered among those who fought on the field of battle—or who served in a time of war together—and then later formed a chapter to recognize the duty and honor they have bestowed to their country and to the citizens of their community is different from any other kind of friendship," Geraci says.

"It's different from the ties of flesh and blood, different from the ties of business association, different from the ties of social acquaintance. Once cemented, this military combat friendship lasts forever. Our gathering here today is proof that it lasts beyond the grave," he continues.

The veterans have erected a shrine to their friends. On the shrine they have placed their comrades' names and have lighted a candle in honor of the 14 who have died. Taps is played.

Not all of the nearly 100 chapter members are active, Geraci explains.

Although known for not being joiners, those who served in the Korean War gather often in small groups, says Geraci, who meets once a week to have breakfast with his comrades. Some of them have little interest in joining the association; they just want the camaraderie.


Veterans Day

The Korean War veterans interviewed felt that not enough is being done to honor and show appreciation to those who have served in the Armed Forces. They particularly expressed disappointment in San Jose residents for not showing support for the Veterans Day parade held every year to remember those who have lost their lives, were wounded or disappeared during battle.

"We don't get the reception that the veterans deserve," Geraci says.

Marching in the parade in Redwood City on the Fourth of July is a different story, he says. "The people always give the veterans a standing ovation. Not in San Jose. Here it's so quiet. It's 'OK, it's a parade. I don't have to go to work today.' It's a shame."

World War II veterans are dying at a rate of about 1,200 a day. Korean War veterans are about four or five years behind them in age, Geraci notes. World War II and Korean War veterans served longer than other war veterans, particularly World War II veterans, who served for four years in combat.

"I've got tremendous respect for World War II veterans," Geraci says.

Lou Horyza, president of the Santa Clara County chapter of the Korean War Veterans Association, says apathy toward the veterans is what motivated the formation of groups like the association. He, too, thinks not enough people attend the San Jose parade to show their respect for the veterans. "People don't come out to show support. They use the day as a holiday."


The Threat of War

Geraci paraphrases an old quote when he says, " 'Old men declare war—young men die in the war.' Nobody likes it. It's got to be the last resort." About the current threat of war, he says, "I don't know exactly what our government is thinking."

Horyza says Iraq doesn't warrant an attack yet. "We've never attacked a country without provocation. When Iraq does something physical against the country, then we can attack."

Murphy is worried because not enough Americans speak Arab languages. "How are we going to control a country with limited people who speak the language?" he asks. "I hope we can settle it by some other means, but Saddam is not a rational person.

"I would hate to see another war," Murphy says.

The United Veterans Council is organizing a Veterans Day parade Nov. 11 in San Jose on Santa Clara Street, across from the San Jose Water Company Building. The parade travels about a mile to Market Street. The Korean War Veterans Association, the America Legion and the Veterans of Foreign Wars will all participate in the event. Horyza will be driving his Mustang and plans to invite Korean seniors to march with his group, as well as the Korean consul general. For more information about the association's involvement in the parade, call Lou Horyza at 408.263.8779.