Brrr!! It’s starting to get chilly outside. The early morning routine, now completely absent the bright slanting rays of sunshine, transforms itself into another pattern altogether. Don those thicker woolen socks, check the thermostat, and move with a purpose to start the coffee. Winter is knocking on the door and it’s time to dig the sweaters and jackets out of storage.
I know this won’t be a popular opinion, but I actually love this season. I love the sensation of cold outside the covers while I lie toasty and warm within. Love the extra pockets on my winter jacket. Can already taste the hot chocolate and marshmallows I only seem to imbibe during these months. And cherish the sting of the North wind on my face even as my morning runs and rides get shorter with the advancing chill.
You can call me crazy if you want, but I really do like the winter—and before any of you back home chastise me saying “Well, you wouldn’t if you lived here!” … let me tell you, I’ve lived in Wisconsin, the Republic of Korea (up near the DMZ no less), and remain a resident of Alaska. I know cold, trust me. I just always rather preferred it to the heat and craziness of summer. The indisputable fact is that I can always put on more clothes to get warm … but can only strip down so far to stay cool before getting arrested. For the record, that’s not a theory I’ve ever tested!
All that said, the arrival of winter never fails to remind me of the examples throughout military history in which humans have ventured out into the freezing cold and biting wind to engage in mortal combat with their foes. Whether we’re talking about broad geographic areas like the entire Eastern Front during WWII or smaller patches of blood-stained ground like the Chosin Reservoir in Korea or the Aleutian Islands in Alaska, fighting in the extreme cold adds a whole new level to the brutality of warfare.
Simple military operations become herculean undertakings when temperatures stay below freezing for extended periods of time. And in places where they simply hover around that most interesting of meteorological benchmarks, a soupy, half-frozen mud can stifle even the most carefully prepared plan of battle. Fighting in the extreme cold is no joke, and the veterans amongst us who’ve done so—and survived—should not be overlooked as anything other than living and breathing examples of those rare, tough-as-woodpecker-lips warriors of renown. Men and women whose exploits would have echoed through Viking halls, Roman fora, and Mongol yurts in the distant past.
For Americans, our short history is nonetheless replete with such examples of extreme military operations. The harsh winter at Valley Forge in 1777 turned a ragtag force of part-time soldiers into the first Continental Army. Fredericksburg in 1862 was the site of one of the most brutal battles of the American Civil War. Anti-Bolshevik operations in North Russia and Siberia 1918-20 was a miserable experience for U.S. troops that may very well have planted the seeds of the Cold War by instilling an inherent distrust between a nascent Soviet Union and the U.S.
In World War II, operations on Attu and Kiska added the craziness of Imperial Japanese banzai charges to the litany of ways soldiers could be injured and killed by the sub-polar environment. The early months of the Battle for Monte Cassino in Italy in 1943, took place in the winter and made that grueling slog all the more painful for the U.S., British, and Gurkha regiments which attempted to storm that fortification. And intense winter fighting at Bastogne, Belgium in 1944 elevated the 101st Airborne Division to elite status within the U.S. military panoply, ensuring the survival of that unit’s colors through to the smaller Army of today.
But the worst was yet to come, and for some of those same dogged and determined WWII winter warfare survivors. The fighting in Korea, 1950-54, featured prolonged exposure to extreme temperatures at the end of very long and vulnerable supply lines. Anyone ever stationed along the DMZ can attest the feeling of “The Hawk” as it’s called, the sharp north wind that emanates somewhere in Siberia and quite literally screams through the mountains of northern and central Korea. Trust me, it cuts right through any thickness of clothing and seems to chill your very bones!
Yet under these conditions, the U.S. 1st Marine Division earned—through sheer grit and determination—an esteemed place in the brief but action-packed annals of American military history. Finding themselves surrounded as the U.S. X Corps withdrew in the face of 120,000 communist Chinese “volunteers”, the 1st Marine Division had to first blunt the Chinese attack, and then fight their way back to the port at Hungnam over the course of the next week. The excruciating effort covered a distance of 166 kilometers, in sub-zero temperatures with little in the way of supply, and extricated the lives of some 20,000 Marines. Men who would return to hunt North Korean guerrillas in the mountains and later wreak vengeance upon the Chinese at multiple bloody battles of the Punchbowl. Throughout the Chosin campaign, the Marines took nearly 18,000 casualties, almost half of which were the result of freezing temperatures and exposure to the harsh elements in the mountains of North Korea.
I love the winter. I appreciate the cold. But I’m constantly reminded of the sacrifices made by dedicated, stubborn, and downright determined men and women to fight, kill, and win in circumstances much worse than any of us face shoveling the driveway, building a snowman, or riding slabs of thin wood down a manicured slope. They deserve our thanks and our undying respect.
So, another “winter is coming”, another year nearly gone—a tough one at that—and another chance to watch the Earth around us reset. To family and friends in those colder climes—and you know who you are since you’ve already had to shovel snow at least once this year—I wish you well in the coming months. Stay warm and good luck finding entertainment now that COVID lockdowns have consumed so much of the usual winter watching/reading list. For my Australian and New Zealand friends … uh … I guess, have a great Summer!
M. G. Haynes