David B. Bleak
A Couple of 'Em Got Too Close
Republished from “PASS IN REVIEW”, 3rd Quarter September 2000
In a war the infantry gets mixed up in a lot of things that people don't understand. Yes, they carry rifles and other weapons around, jump up and run, slide on their bellies to a prone position and start firing at something. You've seen all that stuff - maybe even done some of it. Sure, it's mostly a drill or maybe a scrimmage. But infantry in the line, the "grunt" life, is much more demanding than that. They get all kinds of tough missions. Take this outfit in Korea - back in '52.
It was the 223rd Infantry Regiment, 40th Division, a California Guard outfit that ran this caper. We want to go back to that time and place because they had a medic in the 223rd, an Idaho boy, who showed'em how a man fights when he has to. A medic fighting? Sure. But maybe we had better begin at the beginning.
Born in 1932, David B. Bleak grew up in the high farm country of Eastern Idaho. That's important since it says he knew hard work - work that breathes self - determination and innovation into the growing young. Bleak pretty much followed farming all of his life.
It kind of naturally followed in those days that on November 1, 1950, at the ripe old age of eighteen, David Bleak joined the U. S. Army. He took his basic training at Fort Riley, Kansas, the famous old horse cavalry post. Before long he was assigned to a Medical Company that became organic to the 2nd Battalion, 223rd Infantry Regiment of California's 40th Infantry Division. He then received more advanced specialized medical aid training at Camp Cook in California. After several months Bleak was made Corporal, and as January of 1952 dawned, the 40th Division was on its way to the Korean Conflict via Japan.
Somewhere north of the 38th parallel, before long, Bleak was promoted to Sergeant filling the shoes of another NCO aid man who had recently been killed. The 40th Division assignment was largely a holding action near the 38th parallel.
It was mountain country where the trees had been cut down and used to reinforce entrenched enemy positions in the area. The only cover was a scattering of brush three or four feet high and the rugged contour of the land itself. In this holding action both sides set up fields of fire, logged in artillery concentrations and then probed from time to time to see if the enemy was planning any surprises. The irony of it is that such situations are usually carried as "quiet times" by the media. Yeah, quiet.
It was one of those probes that called down all the chaos and violence that is anyone's share of hell in this life. The I & R Platoon (Intelligence and Reconnaissance) of the 2nd Battalion drew the mission to go into enemy territory, capture a couple of North Koreans and/or Chinese and bring them out for interrogation.
Of course, the assignment is easy - it's the execution that's not so easy. The enemy does what we do. They set up trip flares, plant mines, establish outposts (listening posts at night), set up fields of fire and all those nefarious stratagems of man that make infiltrators such poor insurance risks. In spite of that fact, Sergeant Bleak volunteered as the medic for the incursion.
Well, when the recon patrol set out it was as black as the proverbial ace of spades. The patrol was made up of twenty men and commanded by a senior Tech Sergeant - no officers on this detail. The hour was about 0430 in the morning and Bleak took up his position at the end of the file moving off into the darkness. The tail end is the assigned position for medics. From that point (when light) they can observe everyone in the team and move quickly to their aid if needed. That "if needed" would soon become the reality of this mission.
The recon patrol pushed quietly on through the darkness, while well off on their left flank, Fox Company from the same battalion moved out in a larger incursion. It would serve to draw attention away from the I & R patrol. But "the die" had been cast otherwise.
A short time later, in the grayness of a Korean dawn, the patrol was snooping around an enemy entrenchment and took their first fire of the mission. It was intense automatic weapons and small arms fire and several in the patrol were wounded.
Bleak moved up and took care of them, making them as comfortable as the situation permitted. He then continued the advance with the patrol that soon came under heavy fire again. The ensuing action is described in the text of Sergeant Bleak's Congressional Medal of Honor award.
"… he came under hostile fire from a small group of the enemy concealed in a trench. Entering the trench he closed with the enemy, killed two with bare hands and a third with his trench knife.
Moving from the emplacement, he saw a concussion grenade fall in front of a companion and, quickly shifting his position, shielded the man from the impact of the blast.
Later, while ministering to the wounded, he was struck by a hostile bullet but, despite the wound, he undertook to evacuate a wounded comrade. As he moved down the hill with his heavy burden, he was attacked by two enemy soldiers with fixed bayonets. Closing with the aggressors, he grabbed them and smacked their heads together, then carried his helpless comrade down the hill to safety.
Perhaps we should tell you that Bleak was over six feet tall and weighed about 250 pounds. He did all that in order to get at wounded comrades. He tended to dismiss the facts by skipping over the action and saying something to the effect "...a couple of 'em got too close"...(the enemy).
Yes, they brought prisoners back - and, all of the patrol came in - even though a third of them were walking wounded.
And on 27 October 1953, with his family proudly looking on, SGT David B. Bleak received the Medal of Honor from President Dwight D. Eisenhower at the White House.
Bleak's wound has had a long-term effect. When he was shot in the leg, it severed a nerve. He dismisses that as "no big deal." But I guess when you survive an ' eyeball to eyeball' firefight such as that one was, wounded, outnumbered, in enemy territory on the far side of a Korean ridge, just coming out alive tends to give one a different -a more tolerant perspective on life.
After he got out of the Army he married, Lois is her name, and they had four children, three boys and a girl. Their youngest son now has the farm -south of Moore, Idaho. Today the Bleak's live in Arco, Idaho since he retired about five years ago.
Then, in 1995, Major General John A. Dubia, Commanding General of Fort Sill Oklahoma bestowed another honor on SGT Bleak. General Dubia owes his life to a combat Medic in Viet Nam and to express his gratitude decided to name the Ft. Sill Troop Clinic in honor of a combat medic. Special permission was obtained; April 20, 1995 was designated as SGT David B. Bleak day; and the new medical facility at Ft. Sill was named the SGT David B. Bleak Troop Medical Clinic.
And so there's your infantry. There's your medic. And there's your Sgt. Bleak - forever enshrined in the annals of Idaho's military heroes.
Bibliography:
“A Couple of 'Em Got Too Close,” PASS IN REVIEW, 3rd Quarter September 2000, <http://museum.mil.idaho.gov/Newsletters/3rdQtr2000.pdf>