The fate of the Allies rests in the hands of eccentric British Navy Captain George Hardy. Regarded as a madman by some, and viewed as a genius in naval warfare by those who serve with him, Hardy leads his ragtag fleet of warships into a deadly match of wits and wills against the determined Kern and his untested U-boats. Under cover of the ocean, the deadliest of enemies are about to engage their final battle . Welcome to HuntersAndTheHunted.Com, the Cyberspace Home of author: Steven Wilson.

Land of 10,000,000 Savages: Part 2
by Steven Wilson, 2005

ARTICLE ORIGINALLY APPEARED AT MILITARY.COM, November 15, 2007

The June 1, 1871 attack on an American survey party making its way up the Kangwha Strait ended badly for the Korean forces. It was hardly fair to begin with-the artillery of the Korean Army being well beyond what any modern nation would consider obsolete. Some of the cannon were several hundred years old, and most were mounted on huge logs that prevented them from being effectively sighted. It may little difference to the defenders of Kangwha Strait-they had done their duty by driving off the interlopers.

On the American side of the equation Rear Admiral John Rogers was about to unleash a ground assault on the Korean forts for what he perceived as their unwarranted and cowardly attack on the survey party. He had informed the Korean emissaries, after all, that he intended to sound the strait and the waters around the island--an effort he considered absolutely benign. But the Korean diplomats sent to discuss the American presence in restricted waters, did not consider these barbarian intentions worth noting or commenting on. These white-skinned foreigners were unwelcome. So when the boats of the survey party peacefully made their up the straits they were dutifully warned off by Korean guns.

After conferring with Foreign Minister Frederick F. Low (who apparently convinced the hot-blooded officer that an immediate invasion would solve nothing), Rogers agreed to give the Koreans ten days to come up with a suitable explanation and apology. What Minister Low received on June 6th was a tart note informing the Americans that they had no business traveling on the restricted waterway. Low, probably voicing Rogers' concerns as well, expressed the dilemma in a later report to Secretary of State Hamilton Fish. "If the Squadron retires now, the effect upon the minds of the Coreans, and, I fear, on Chinese, will be injurious and disastrous to our future prospects in both countries."

The most obvious problem for the Americans, should the Koreans fail to make adequate apologies, is how to extract one with a small, mixed force of marines and sailors? The guns available on the five ships of the squadron were more than a match for anything the Koreans had, but only two of the five (U.S.S. Monocacy, and U.S.S. Palos), could advance up the strait. The other three drew too much water. Still, there was the nation's honor to consider and Low's desire to save face. Rogers and Low made their decision.

Mid-morning on June 10, 1871, the U.S.S. Monocacy, accompanied by two steam launches, sailed up the strait. Its role was to bombard the Choji Fortress while the U.S.S. Palos towing an assortment of 22 ship's boats, landed the landing party consisting of 109 marines commanded by Captain McLane W. Tilton, and 542 sailors. The attackers (the marines in the lead), carried 100 rounds of ammunition, and rations for two days, and were supported by two howitzers. The plan was to land below the fortress, advance parallel to the river, and flank the Koreans. Enemy fire was not the difficulty-it was advancing through 200 yards of knee-deep mud. Struggling sailors and marines had their footwear sucked off their feet, and pants stripped from their legs. The pair of howitzers wrestled ashore sunk up to their wheel hubs in the thick mud. Had the Koreans been armed with modern weapons and anticipated the location of the landing, the Americans would have been massacred. Navy gunfire from the Palos and Monocacy (the latter's firepower increased by two 9-inch guns transferred from the Colorado), kept the Koreans occupied while the mixed landing force cleared the mud. They advanced through the underbrush toward the 12-foot high walls of Choji Fortress, arriving to find the fortress in ruins and abandoned. Settling in for the night, Captain Tilton noted, "We bivouacked with our arms by our sides." The attacking force had only been subjected to scattered fire from the Koreans, but Tilton, along with the other Americans who took refuge in what remained of the fortress, could see the outline of tomorrow's objective just a mile away. The Koreans emphasized the impending struggle by lobbing a few shells at the occupied fortress during the night.

On Sunday, June 11, 1871, a naval contingent relieved Tilton and his men, and continued the work of dismantling the fort. The marine captain led his men on toward the next objective, Dukjin Fortress which had also succumbed to naval bombardment, and been abandoned by the Koreans. It was renamed Fort Monocacy in honor of the gunboat. The Palos didn't fair as well-she was carried down the strait by strong currents and grounded herself on some rocks. The U.S.S. Monocacy alone would have to provide covering fire for the advancing marines and sailors. Progress was slow over the broken terrain, with thick underbrush and deep ravines blocking the advance. The marine-navy objective this time was Kwangsungbo, a fortress set atop a 150-foot hill overlooking the strait. Above the fortresses' horseshoe shaped walls flew the yellow banner of the island's commander. This fortress would not surrender easily nor would its defenders fall back. Korean General Uh Je-yeon and his soldiers had sworn to fight to the death.

By mid-morning the Monocacy had moved into position and began firing on the fortress. Koreans positioned on ridges radiating from Kwangsungbo kept up a hot fire against the Americans until they were pushed back. The American ground forces under Commander Lewis A. Kimberly with Tilton's marines in the lead fought their way up the slopes. Fire from the fortress was intense-arrows, musketry, cannon, and gingalls ( or jingals, matchlock pieces), with constant attempts from the Koreans to probe the American's flanks. The howitzers were dragged closer-a Herculean task over the broken ground. This was a desperate fight for both sides-the Americans committed to the advance and the Koreans determined to defeat the invaders. Kimberly positioned three of the nine attacking companies to the rear to protect the guns and to defend the Americans from flanking attacks. The other companies pushed forward, pressing the Koreans so that they did not have time to reload their muskets. Now it became a battle of rocks, clods of earth, or anything handy that the defenders could hurl at the Americans. Lieutenant Hugh McKee, USN and Private Hugh Purvis, USMC, were first over the earthen walls. The Koreans swarmed around them and the other Americans who topped the rampart. Using spears, and swords, and wielding their muskets as clubs, the defenders fought to drive the Americans out of the fortress without success. The battle continued for nearly 30 minutes without quarter, ghostlike figures grappling with one another in the dense smoke.

And then, it was over.

The Americans had won the fortress, renaming it Fort McKee in honor of the young officer who was killed in the assault. Kwangsungbo Fortress cost the Americans three dead (including McKee), and ten wounded. The Korean losses were close to 300, dead, wounded, and missing. General Uh Je-yeon died with most of his men.

After the battle a relieve Captain Tilton wrote his wife, "I am glad to say I am alive still and kicking, although at one time I never expected to see my wife and baby any more, and if it hadn't been that the Coreans can't shoot true, I never should." Five marines won the Medal of Honor in the battle for what became known as the Citadel, but in the end, this American invasion of Korean solved nothing. One American newspaper later commented about the incident that the United States "sent a force altogether too large for the delivery of the message of peace and too small for the prosecution of war." Rear Admiral Rogers was less philosophic about the events. The demonstration of military force, he noted, "which would have had produced a profound impression upon any other government," made no impression upon the Koreans.

When the Americans sailed away on July 3, 1871, the Koreans declared the encounter a victory. What else could it be-theirs was the superior race, the enemy had departed, and the invisible walls that surrounded the Hermit Kingdom, remained impenetrable. The idea of any kind of treaty with the barbarians, King Kojong declared, was unthinkable. "How can a country which has upheld propriety and justice for thousands of years make peace with the likes of dogs and sheep?"

Two countries, two races, two cultures, each convinced of its own superiority, collided in what would prove to be an inconsequential action in the events of each nation. As history rolled from one century to another and ideologies were reshaped the two countries would fight again.

Steven Wilson / HuntersAndTheHunted.Com E-Mail: readermail@HuntersAndTheHunted.Com