With weather suitable for air support, the P51's of an Australian unit came in to rocket, napalm, bomb and strafe a ridge which overlooked Fox Hill from the east, as well as other targets as they presented themselves. A call went out for an air drop of ammo and supplies. In the afternoon, a Marine C47 drop was made. The reliable old bird made a pass to get oriented with her side door open and the crew waving. On the second pass, the drop began -- right in our lap. They flew so low, the chutes just had time to pop open before landing.

With the superb gunners of How Battery registered in, the air strike completed, the airdrop successful, sniper fire to a minimum, we felt good and ate some frozen rations. Preparations were made for the night to come, the enemy and the cold. They came.

Near 2 a.m. it began with light probing to feel out the defenses, then the full assault. The line to our right was breached as a machine gun jammed and its position overrun as well as the next hole to us and others. In the frozen dark with the sound of battle at high pitch, a parka clad Marine moved past our hole to take up a new position and continue to fight. A second figure in a parka came on hands and knees up the little snow covered path from the fallen positions. I almost shot him before he finally spoke and we knew he was ours. We jerked him into our hole.