Kieffer flew low over the spot, and Page studied the trails in the snow that led from the surrounding hills. Obviously, the tent was an enemy shelter. He motioned to Kieffer to make another pass, The pilot watched, open-eyed, as Page pulled the pins from three grenades, leaned from the cockpit and threw them down. The explosions blended into a single roar. The small plane nosed upward, and Kieffer looked back. The tent was destroyed.

The ridge was pockmarked with enemy foxholes, and from it Red soldiers fired at will at targets on the airstrip and in the village. Page shouted to Kieffer to fly low. The plane hummed along the ridge, and Page began bombing the foxholes. At the end of the ridge Page ordered Kieffer to circle back at 50 feet, and Page began raking the foxholes with his carbine. A Chinese soldier stood up and leveled his rifle at the plane, then dropped it and fell forward. Other Reds died in their foxholes.

Page used his last grenades to demolish a foxhole holding three Red soldiers, then ordered Kieffer to return to Koto-ri for more ammunition. But the second air raid was called off. The plane was needed to evacuate a badly wounded Marine.

Grounded, Page walked to check progress on the runway. Suddenly the driver of a grader fell from his seat, a bullet through his neck. And now Red snipers began pouring fire at the airstrip. Everyone raced zigzagging for cover. Everyone except John Page. He stood in the middle of the runway, spotting the snipers' position.