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The Coldest War

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James Brady, The Coldest War: A Memoir of Korea (1990, New York: Thomas Dunne Books, St. Martin's Griffin edn., 2000)

This is a splendid little book about what one American statesman characterized, quite accurately, as "a sour little war." The reasons are clear. With the possible exception of the Falkland Islands War, no other conflict in the second half of the 20thcentury was fought over ground as consistently inhospitable as the three-year struggle in barren, frigid Korea. Author James Brady, who served as a Marine lieutenant there, describes the essence of the problem early in the book: "Hard enough fighting a war; in Korea, the cold could kill you." And he invokes the horrors of combat in the First World War and the Civil War when he makes this point: "In some ways, it wasn't a modern war at all, more like Flanders or the Somme or even the Wilderness campaign." Brady is a wonderful writer and creates marvelous word pictures of the war. Many operations took place after dark, and he writes: "The grenade, the knife, the shotgun, even the shovel and the axe were the weapons of night patrols." Brady also offers telling observations about matters important and trivial, including fearing the night as shells roared out "very low and directly overhead," feeling chagrined when he could not answer a colonel's question about the location of two machine guns which he commanded, using a wooden ammunition box as a toilet, urinating on his rifle to thaw it for firing, not changing underwear for 46 days while "on the line, living in holes," and subsisting for weeks at a time on c-rations. Nevertheless, according to Brady: "There was a purity about life on the line, a crude priesthood of combat." And he also remarks: "When you weren't fighting, the war was pretty good." Readers may be offended by some of Brady's recollection, including the incessant references to Koreans as "gooks" (except when he visits a village and addresses the inhabitants as "our Korean brothers"): The Korean bearers who deliver supplies to the line are known by everyone as the "gook train," and the universal eating utensil manufactured from a shell casing is known as a "gook spoon." Chinese soldiers always are "chinks." However, I found Brady's honesty engaging, even when it was politically incorrect. Brady's memoir is remarkably free of rancor, and, in fact, he appears to have respected his adversaries. Brady reports that some of the one million Chinese engaged in the war had been fighting continuously since the mid-1930s, first against the Japanese, then amongst themselves in the civil war which preceded the victory of Mao Zedong's Communists, and finally against the Republic of Korea, the United States, and their Allies. Nevertheless, Brady saves his highest accolades for his own First Marine Division, which he characterizes, without false modesty, as being "as powerful an infantry division as there had ever been in combat anywhere." Brady saves some of his most wry observations for superior officers, but he had unbridled admiration for his company commander Captain John Chafee, a graduate of Yale and Harvard Law School, who later was elected governor of Rhode Island and then had a distinguished career in the U.S. Senate. This book is not about grand strategy, national policy, or the geopolitics of the early Cold War. It provides a very narrow view of the Korean War. But, taken on its own terms, as the account of one Marine officer's experience, it is excellent.

For anyone interested in learning more about the human experience of war, this is an unforgettable book. Expecting to avoid the futility of the draft by joining the Marine Corps right out of college, the author finds himself a young officer in Korea as a field officer commanding a rifle platoon. This memoir details what it is like to be a young, inexperienced, and frightened soldier on the ground when all Hell breaks loose. Like many of his generation, Brady discovers that time spent in trenches between episodes in combat are quite as burdensome as the firefights themselves, with too much time, too little comfort, and endless seas of ceaseless rain, snow, mud, and exposure to the elements for the uninitiated to wallow in.

Brady's account of the rapid education a naïve and untried young officer has to learn and accomplish to stay alive and in command as the fight erupts, evolves, and subsides. His description of the day-to-day experience of war in Korea is quite evocative, and he succeeds in spinning a very readable and entertaining introduction to the realities of life as a foot soldier. Defense of fixed-line trenches in a deadly barrage of enemy artillery is absolutely terrifying to the young marines, as are the long still nights, filled with a deceptive calm. The quick-changing extremes in Korean weather often provided additional challenges to the young marines, and he explains how the combination of sustained periods of cold with an eerie pregnant silence sometimes lulled the troopers into sometimes-deadly states of inattention. If war can be described as long periods of boredom punctuated by sudden explosions of murder and mayhem, then this book is a deadly accurate portrayal of the experience of war.

Too many of our contemporary citizens lack an understanding of the extreme nature of the experience of combat, and that periods of actual combat are usually short and staccato experiences that come with absolute surprise and subside just as suddenly. As important in understanding the enormity of the experience of war are the other elements; loneliness, boredom, and exposure to the elements. Under the most difficult of circumstances, ordinary human beings are called upon to make the most solemn and extreme sacrifices, and this book details the terrifying context in which all this unfolded in Korea better than anything else I have read on the subject. I heartily recommend this book, and hope it will be widely read.

James Brady's "The Coldest War - A Memoir of Korea" is at once both a personal view and a writer's view. Brady spent a little less than one year as a Marine officer in Korea as a rifle platoon leader, company exec, intelligence officer and finally a company commander. We are fortunate to have a writer of his caliber tell us his innermost thoughts as he grew from a green 23-year-old Second Lieutenant into a very mature, and war-weary First Lieutenant (still 23 years old) leaving the war, all in the period of about ten months. By his own admission, he was not a hero, and equally by his own admission, he had no intention of becoming one. He merely wanted to be a competent officer, and live through the experience of a lifetime, making as few mistakes as possible on the way. He saw action, he saw death, he experienced the loss of friends and describes all of this in stark detail, with no frills. It is a description war as it is, not Hollywood's version, and one gets the sense that if others in combat could write the way Brady does, the stories would all be very similar, and our history of war would be much more complete. Brady does not mince words, and his descriptions divulge criticism of shortcomings of higher echelon decisions and higher ranking officers alike, not from spite or in a desire to get back at those he didn't get along with, but with a clear eye to failings of leadership and communication common in all military systems, especially during combat. Walter Cronkite says this book reads like a novel, but I disagree. There is no plot, no happy ending. It is a wonderfully descriptive and detailed book about the personality of the Korean War, a "police action" which is only now getting its due. I highly recommend this book to anyone who loves history, and wants to learn more about Korea than can be learned watching all the episodes of "Mash" back-to-back.

Good grief Brady. Suck in your gut! Trim down to that lean and mean trenchwise Marine of 1952. And by all means, keep writing books if they are as engaging a human interest story as this one.

A chronology of life as a platoon leader in the static, bunker warfare of Korea's second year, I found Brady's book a refreshing contrast to many first person accounts, Korean War accounts in particular. No exhilirating offensives here; no retreats, no advancing in a different direction. Only night patrol warfare with its attendant, alternate boredom, tragedy, hollow victories. Marines lost to mines, to frostbite, to friendly fire, to random shell or mortar fire. Starlight was enough for Brady to patrol by--moonlight cast too many shadows. John Chafee-- later Governor and Senator from Rhode Island-- urged the young author to know his troops 'as Marines, as professionals; but not as men.' A frozen turd once cued Brady that an injured Chinese was too far ahead to make further pursuit worthwhile. Brady the Marine agonizes if Chinese fleeing a napalmed village were women or men-- but Brady the journalist uses an economy of word thats conveys the intensity of combat; the need to reach a quick decision, stick-- and live-- with it

There is reflection and commentary here, too. Brady compares tactical approach of Army vs. Marine rifle companies. The latter were better organized and equipped. "NO way a man in combat can give orders to more than 3 men." In battalion reserve Brady's Marines tangles with civilians, even were accused of rape. He lamented the loss 'of pride, of discipline, of professionalism' that came from being away from the War. On a hospital ship in In'chon harbor for a routine examination, he decries the poor treatment from Sailors.

Perhaps Dean Acheson can claim to have been 'Present at the Creation' of the post WWII cold war order. Brady was more than present--he was a part. And he trumps the cocky Secretary of State: Brady was there at its final destruction--the Berlin Wall-- as well. Admittedly as a paunchy journalist, but hey, the guy paid his dues. He has just raised one too many for the New World Order.

The book is about one of the most miserable places in the world to wage a war. Korea in 1950 was unheard of by many Americans, but the U. S. Marines were sent there to help defend South Korea from the expected Chinese invasion. Those Marines will never consider the encounter a "Forgotten War." The terrain and weather made it far more treacherous than any of the island fighting in the south Pacific during World War II, and some Marines who fought in both places claimed Korea was a nightmarish land dreamed up by the Devil to pit humans against each other. James Brady, a 23 year old second lieutenant when he landed in Korea as a platoon leader, aged quickly during his tour in combat Being new to the Corps, he found some enlisted career-men were more knowlegeable than contemporary officers. He gives them all their due, but considers Captain John H. Chafee the real hero of the book. The personal hardships of Marines of all ranks on line, is interspersed with humor and horror, but the most memorable part of the book belongs to the adaption of a green newcomer into a seasoned combat veteran. Brady has a talent for sniffing out the phonies and laying his bets with the soldiers of silent professionalism. "The Coldest War" tells it like only this distringuished writer could. Each page gets the reader into the feel of the unforgiving environment. The cold, the steep hills, the constant time in the front lines takes the reader into the uncomfortable setting of blood letting, death, and the terrible stench of the country. It's a book you won't soon forget.

Who thought that the man who brings us the underwhelming In Step interviews every Sunday could write such a fascinating autobiography?

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy his work for Parade -- it's a guilty pleasure! But his tale of life in Korea, during the forgotten war is an excellent read.

The Coldest War doesn't bore you to death with military minutiae and ancronyms -- James Brady was a reservist, not a career Marine. The author doesn't get bogged down in terminology, so the book flows easily.

The narrative is superb -- the reader (at least this one) feels as if he or she is in the trench shivering with Brady on his first ambush.

Highly recommended!

James Brady's vignette, haunting, poignant, reflective, should take its place along side of William Manchester and John Keegan. The story he tells is not how it should have been, it's not even how he would have liked it to have been. It's like it was. Brady is like any other 19 year old, brash, filled with adventure, drunk on promise and the illusion of immortality. Then he signs up with the Marine Reserves if not avoid, then to postpone his own appointment with destiny. Unfortunately, destiny has a mind of its own, and a few years later he finds himself the Platoon Commander of a Marine Rifle platoon on Hill 749, in the winter of 1951, in Korea.

Brady doesn't judge. I like that most about his reflections on a horrible war in a freezing place. If you want to hang Truman, MacArthur, Eisenhower, and John Foster Dulles, this is probably the wrong book for you. It is brilliant but it tells only the story of one man-boy's experience placed in charge of 40 men in combat.

To some extent we look down on those boys. We judge them, forgetting that like us, they too were caught in the flotsam of other people's decisions. Although with most of us, the whole world doesn't subsequently judge us. War's change, the technology of killing becomes more sophisticated, sides change, enemies become friends, and bad guys become good guys. Frequenly we forget that it's the young men who take the fire. The greatest homily to Brady and the only self serving remark he makes would be truly understood by a few. When he leaves the fields where 54,000 died, he says, "I hadn't lost any men . . "

Brady reminds us that young men are faced with terrible decisions when politicians, frequently never in harm's way, put them into unexplained and perhaps unnecessary combat. We should not judge those boys. And we should not judge them after they become men. 5 stars. A sobering read.To Jim Brady, if no one told you, welcome home.

Mr. Brady does an outstanding job of telling his personal experiences, feelings, and thoughts during his sevice in the Korean War as a junior infantry officer. His service period covered the "static" fighting that took place during the bulk of the war following entry of the Chinese.

In "The Coldest War: A Memoir of Korea," author James Brady vividly describes what it was like to be a junior officer in the Marine Corps during the Korean War. Brady notes the irony of his decision to sign up for a Marine Corps officer training program: "I'd joined up to dodge the draft and ended up being sent to war." He gives many insights into the positions he held: platoon leader, company executive officer, and battalion intelligence officer. His narrative also illuminates the culture and organization of the U.S. Marine Corps.

Brady's story is rich in details of life in the Korean war zone. He discusses food, clothing, recreation, relationships among the Marines, and encounters with Korean civilians. The text is also full of fascinating technical details about the tactics and hardware of war; I was particularly interested in his passages about the mortarman's deadly art and the usefulness of the Browning Automatic Rifle. Brady makes the story come to life with his evocative descriptions of sounds of different weapons, the sizzle of hot brass hitting the snow, and other realities of wartime. He doesn't shy away from discussing the real down-and-dirty details of his service. He vividly describes the personal hygiene aspect of front-line duty; I found a dry humor to his graphic discourse on one of the unpleasant side effects of not bathing for a long time.

Brady's story includes vivid anecdotes about revelry at a British officers' mess, a visit to the relative luxury of a hospital ship, and more. He also recalls the punishingly cold weather, and includes some gripping accounts of combat. He presents the violence, death, and destruction of war without flinching. The text is enhanced by several black-and-white photos showing Brady, his fellow Marines, and the environment in which they lived and fought. The Korean conflict has been called a "forgotten war"; this makes Brady's thoughtful, well-written personal account even more valuable. It's both an important historical document and a powerful piece of literature.

James Brady's memoir is perhaps the best written history of the Korean War from a solo combatant's perspective. True, this is a story from one voice, foresaking input from others and largely devoid of big-picture strategic discussions. The focus is almost entirely on Brady's year in-country. It is a verbal scrapbook of one soldier's experience, helped mightily in its presentation by Brady's gift with words. This is a ground-level view of the static, trench warfare that bogged the Korean conflict from late 1951 onward. The reader gets candid, personal recollections of a young marine lieutenant-- not just the gritty reality of combat, but of the miserable living conditions of living half underground in bitter cold. Read this veritable novel in one weekend.