At the Reservoir, our first priority was in support of the ground units, and next to interdict the roads leading to the Yalu River. When we first reported that the Chinese had crossed the Yalu, our intelligence officers aboard the carrier did not believe us. Many of the Chinese (I do not like the way we use "communist" to develop hate) were dressed in white.

They may have been poor shots, but they were highly disciplined. When they heard us coming, they would kneel in the snow and hold their rifles close to their body. Even when we strafed them with 20mm canon and rockets, the survivors would not move. This made it more difficult to see them. Only napalm would make the ones on fire run. Because of air, they only moved at night pulling most of their logistics on sleds with horses. During the day, they would tie their horses in wooded areas. For some reason I really hated to kill those poor horses.

On cold mornings, it was easy to spot layers of smoke in valley floors. A closer look would reveal the farm house(s) that the smoke was coming from. With four planes in a long column, the first would attack the house, and the survivors would come running out only to be killed by the following planes. It was my opinion that a flight of four planes could easily kill 500 men per day and that few Chinese would make it to the Reservoir. Obviously, my last opinion was wrong.

As the Division attacked to the rear, we had some of our best shooting about one or two miles on each side of the column. This was especially so on days when the ceiling was low and the visibility reduced by snow. We took many chances these times to provide The Chosin Few with help. It was on one of these flights that "Whisky" Newell, a flying sergeant was killed. His napalm was detonated by enemy fire before he released it.