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CAPT GEORGE W YATES
NAVY CROSS
SILVER STAR
7th Marine Regiment
B CO 1 BN
1st Marine Division
Date Of Loss: April 9, 1953
Service Number: 051368
Born: September 8, 1929
Comments from the Korean War Project: Captain Yates was a member of Company B, 1st Battalion, 7th Marines, 1st Marine
Division. He was Killed in Action while fighting the enemy in Korea on April 9, 1953. He was born in Columbia, Mississippi,
and graduated from Mount Olive High School, Mount Olive, Mississippi.
Korean War Project Key No: 33334
Hostile, Died (KIA) - Marines - B CO 1 BN 7 MAR RGT 1 MAR DIV
Birth Date: September 8, 1929
Home: COLUMBUS MS
Location Of Loss: OUTPOST CARSON
"When Capt Yates was killed on Outpost Carson in 1953, it was actually my platoon's turn to man the outpost. I was a
lowly 19 year old PFC and eager for action. But Captain Yates who had already seen a good deal of action volunteered his platoon
to man the dangerous outpost where attack was expected at any time. Had I gotten the action I thought I wanted I would probably
have been killed. For as I remember it, all but 6 men of Yates Platoon were killed when the attack occurred very quickly.
Had Yates not volunteered his own platoon and mine had gone out, I would very likely have been killed myself. That is why
I call Captain Yates the Marine that saved my life
The uneveness of the fornatting in the document below is due to scanning into my computer 50 year old type written
papers using OCR.
EMOTION FELT IN WAR
by
Frank W. Hutchens
I stood on a hill over looking the battle
And heard o’er the shellfire their voices death rattle.
I knew in an instant their fighting was
over
That the angels in heaven above them now hover.
It was early su mmer 1953; the place
Korea; the time, the crack of dawn. The squad leader called to us down the narrow tunnel
to our very deep bunker
"Roll out of there you guys! Jump! On the double, The gooks are attacking Carson.
There were only two of us in the bunker, Big Jim Wa ller and myself. We
had stood the graveyard watch that night and had only gotten to bed two hours before. Since we were sleeping fully dressed including shoes, we were outside in the trenchline
in a matter of seconds.
"You guys are a little late," said Perry the squad leader with some sarcasm. "You sure must sleep sound."
Such was our fatigue that Big Jim Waller and I had slept through the worst of the fierce battle raging on Carson our outpost.
The rest of our squad were at their posts on the hillside trenchline overlooking the smaller hill a half—mile away.
Their guns were quiet now but smoke still drifted from the hot barrels.
Waller and
I took up positions In an empty foxhole and looked out over the vast and terrible picture that
war had painted for us to see. There was neither friend nor foe in sight. The small hill,that had been named Carson for some
obscure reason, after the city in Nevada, was
gashed and gutted by heavy artillery fire. Even now an ocassional shell erupted the earth of the outpost where living or dead
were our comrades of the third platoon
As we watched for some sign of life from our men on the hill a strange silence gripped our hearts that even the roar of cannon could not shatter.
It was a silence of the spirit and had nothing to do with the ear.
The quite of dead heroes as their souls swiftly pass us
Is a quiet that leaves us
Yet still remains with us
When mind has forgotten the
heart still reminds us.
I remember the third platoon of Baker Company, Seventh Marines
more as a unit than as a lot of Individuals. It was a unit forged and tempered by the spirit of one man, 1st Leiutenant George Yates.
His men called him "Wild Bill". He carried a 38 revolver instead of the regulation 45 automatic and wore a soft campaign hat much like the "Rough Riders" wore. This too was strictly non—regulation. Hcw he was able to get away with breaking rigid Marine Corps rules was something none of us knew. But we were glad he did for he was quiet a picturesque figuer with his hat,gun,and the long
handle bar mustache that he wore. Yet he was not a man just for show. He was the hero of our company. Before he volunteered his platoon for
the dangerous outpost duty on Carson, he had brought them through a fierce night battle against enemy troops. While returning
from a routine patrol the third platoon was ambushed by superior forces. Yates set the example for his men with his dauntless
fighting spirit as he emptied his pistol then his carbine into the enemy, all the while moving around to the aid of different
groups exposing himself to enemy fire. He turned the tide of the battle and routed the enemy completely with the 50 caliber machine gun of a disabled tank. For this action
he was recommended for the Navy Cross.
Leiutenant George Yates, later Captain Yates, was the idol
of our company. We believed him indomitable. So it was that we still had hopes for Yates and his men, though there seemed
to be no life left on Carson hill.
A voice in the air said Yates cannot die
If all others perish, still he cannot die
He'll live
on forever, they never can kill him
No he cannot
die.
Suddenly the flash and roar of a thousand
thunder storms broke on the little hill called
Carson. The earth splashed like the waves of the ocean as the enemy poured volley after volley of their heavy artillery into
the outpost.
No tears were shed— only our hearts
ble
For now we knew—
they must all be dead
The last harsh volley was all the enemy had to offer. They ceased firing on Carson. But it was not entirely quiet, for
our own artillery began to throw in white smoke shells. They made only a dull thud when they hit sending out puffs and sprays
of white flower like clouds.
An unseen hand made a floating bouquet
A flowery tribute to the dead where they lay.
High into the sky overshadowing the mortally wounded hill er upted with white smoke clouds and suddenly
there was music.
Strange, strange, music came over us all
Unnatural, perhaps holy, it fell on us all
No ear could have heard it
But we heard it inside
And then it was we suddenly cried
Undercover of the smoke screen another company moved out towar d Carson to retrieve the dead. When they were still only half way there a machine gun tapped out a signal from the
outpost.
Rat, tat-a-tat—tat, tat—tat
Shave and a haircut, two bits
This was a signal familiar to every frontllne trooper. By it we new that someone on Carson was still alive. Probably more than one. Maybe Yates.
It was important that Yates lived. As a symbol of the invincible man he inspired in us a feeling that we too might be invincible. But if he died then we would know that there was no man stronger than death and that we too might leave our bones in the soil of Korea.
It was night when the other company returned with what remained of our third platoon, but every man of us waited up for
the word as it slowly drifted down the trenchline. It came in a whisper.
The carnage was awful.
There were many men gone
And some wounded would follow
before very long
There were letters from mothers
on dead bodies of boys
That said to be careful
Ah, guns are not toys
Some bodies weren’t found
God, pity their loss
A barrel full of blood was all the fight cost
A picture of two children
lay on the frontline
All that was left
of a father so kind
And Yates, what
of Yates
S aid a voice up ahead
But there came no answer
Only silence instead
Then some brave voice cried out.
And Yates, they said is dead.
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