With weathered hands once strong enough to bear the weight of a rifle and slabs of steel from deep in the quarries of Chicago, Rito Rodriguez rummaged through a lockbox of his treasured mementos, searching for a faded newspaper article.
Sitting in the comfort of his recliner, Rodriguez sorted through old Army badges and trinkets, sacred artifacts that remind him of his service in the 187th Airborne Infantry Regiment, 101st Airborne Division.
“These are my friends from my hometown who were killed in the Korean War,” Rodriguez said, pulling out a document with a list of names printed on it. “Pfc. Anselmo Flores Zamora, Pfc. Lino Farlas, Cpl. Gilbert Morales, Sgt. Gregorio Luevano Rodriguez, Cpl. Morris Robert Parker, and Sgt. Gilberto Lopez Sanchez,” the document reads.
Nearly 40,000 Americans died in action during the Korean War, and more than 100,000 were wounded.
“It is known as ‘The Forgotten War.’ It’s like it never happened, but it did,” Rodriguez said. “My friends died. I never forgot.”
The Korean War began June 25, 1950, and came to an end in July 1953.
“I did not commit any heroics in Korea. The only thing I did was walk in and walk out on my own,” he said. “Who I feel sorry for are the parents and Families of my friends who did not make it home. They are the ones who are heroes.”
Korean War veterans like Rodriguez, along with all those who have served, living or deceased, are honored for their service to the nation each year on Veterans Day, Nov. 11.
‘I knew I had to go’
Just a few weeks shy of his 18th birthday, Rodriguez joined the Army against his mother’s wishes. He grew up in the small, rural community of New Braunfels, Texas, and loved getting a little rowdy with his buddies.
“We would make fires and sing together, and get into trouble with the neighbors,” Rodriguez said. “We used to go to dances every weekend, but suddenly I realized all of my friends were gone. That was when I knew I had to go.”
He made up his mind that he would join the Army and see what it was about.
“There are just certain people who like to be where the action is, and that’s how I am,” Rodriguez said.
After completing basic training at Fort Riley, Kansas, he attended the basic airborne course at Fort Benning, Georgia, to become a paratrooper.
“It was rough training for a kid like me,” Rodriguez said. “Most of us went from the cotton fields and corn fields right into the military … We ran in combat boots. We had no computers. There were no simulations, the guns were real, the ammo was real. We had to train, and I could not fail. I wasn’t going to quit, no matter what.”
While at Fort Benning, he participated in an airborne maneuver in the Texas Panhandle.
“I was in the first group to take off,” Rodriguez said. “I used to love the sound of those airplanes, especially the C-47. When they would start the engine, it was so powerful. It felt so good.”
Disaster struck when the Soldiers opened the C-47’s door and jumped out. Parachutists should not jump if the wind blows at more than 50 mph, because it is not safe. This is a lesson Rodriguez quickly learned the hard way.
“I hit the ground and was dragged all the way down the road because my chute never lost air,” he said. “I knew Texas though, so the first thing I did was cover my face and I just held on.”
‘Next thing I knew I was in Korea’
After graduating jump school, Rodriguez was assigned to the 187th Airborne Infantry Regiment in Japan. Shortly after arriving, he was hospitalized with tonsilitis.
“I don’t know how many days I laid unconscious in the hospital there,” he said. “Things were pretty bad in Korea though … There was word about the Korean conflict coming to an end so the North Koreans were pushing as far south as they could before the ceasefire.”
When Rodriguez recovered, most of the 187th Soldiers at the camp had deployed to Korea to block the North Koreans from moving further into the south, Rodriguez said.
“They flew us out there one at a time. The only thing they could land was a small reconnaissance plane similar to a crop duster,” he said. “There was a major flying the plane. I remember the major wishing me luck and the next thing I knew I was in Korea.”
While there, he served as a mechanic.
“There was no garage or pump or anything. All I had was a can of grease. The motor pool was a canvas and trees. We barely had a jack,” Rodriguez said.
One day, his group moved locations and anything that was not functioning had to be towed.
“We left no vehicle behind,” he said. “I was in a truck and before we could get it to start clunking, it quit. The convoy kept going but the guy in the jeep in the back saw me and told me to stay with the truck.”
As hours went by, Rodriguez grew hungry. He noticed an infantry unit up the hill from his location and considered heading there to collect a C-ration for dinner.
“I knew I better, so I just stayed with the truck. I was going to lay down in the truck and all of a sudden, the North Koreans started firing mortars right on the hill,” he said. “Let me tell you, after that I wasn’t hungry anymore. I couldn’t move.”
While the mortar fire was alarming, Rodriguez said the unsettling silence of the ceasefire kept him on edge.
“After the cease-fire things didn’t quit like people think. In any war, after the cease-fire there is always someone who wants to get even,” he said.
The fear settled under his skin, especially when he stood guard that night.
“That was the only time I was really, truly scared. Everything was completely silent,” Rodriguez said. “When you are there and all the action is going on, you see planes flying up over the trees and you hear cannons in the distance. You see the people. When there is conflict, there is no silence. It’s noisy. Then all of a sudden, all is quiet.”
‘Day-by-day, minute-by-minute’
Rodriguez finished his three-year term in Korea, returned stateside and was honorably discharged. He moved to Chicago and worked for a tool steel company for about 10 years. After a brief stint back in Texas, he returned to Chicago for a quarry job that he retired 24 years later. While living in the Windy City, he met his second wife, Jean, who worked across the street from him at Electric Motors.
After 45 years up north, the couple moved to be closer to Jean’s Family and they have lived in Paris, Tennessee, for 28 years.
“I didn’t slow down until I was 84 years old,” Rodriguez said.
That was the year he was diagnosed with prostate cancer. After five years of treatment, he was cancer-free. The next year, he was diagnosed with bone cancer.
“When the doctor told me about the bone cancer, I told him he wasn’t going to be able to surprise me,” Rodriguez said. “I don’t care about cancer. I don’t want pity.”
Over the past six years, Rodriguez’s health has declined, but his zeal for life has remained.
“Something has to take me. Look at how old I am. I am so close to being a century old,” he said. “I live day-by-day, minute-by-minute. I’ve lived a good life. I am not going to ask God for more than he has already given.”
Rodriguez said his time in the military changed his life.
“I wouldn’t trade my time in the military for anything in the world,” he said. “Being in the military was always a brotherly feeling. You see another guy and you just know them, even if you don’t know them.”
