“You’ll Never Take That Hill” — How 700 Australians Captured The Fortress That Humiliated Everyone

The mist lifted at 11:20 on the morning of the 5th of October, 1951, and D company of the 3rd Battalion, Royal Australian Regiment, was caught halfway up a bare Korean hillside with 1,200 Chinese soldiers dug in above them. The company had 72 men. Their commanding officer, Major Basil Hardiman, had been told the day before that his company would lead the assault on Hill 317, a feature called Maryang San, and he later said his heart stopped for a second when he heard it.
His company was at half strength. Every company in the battalion was at half strength. The Americans had tried twice to take this hill and failed both times, and the British had been getting chewed up on the adjacent ridgelines for 2 days running. And now, the fog that had been covering the Australian approach since before dawn had burned off in a single gust, leaving Hardiman’s men standing in the open on a slope that the Chinese could rake from above.
The hill was 2 and 1/2 km north of Hill 355, a feature the allies called Little Gibraltar, and it rose 200 m above the valley floor in a crescent-shaped ridge with irregular spurs running off it in every direction. The terrain was ideal for defense. The Chinese had dug overhead bunkers connected by communication trenches, positioned heavy machine guns to cover the approaches, and registered their mortar and artillery fires on every likely route up.
Two battalions of the 571st Regiment, 191st Division of the Chinese People’s Volunteer Army, held the position, roughly 1,200 troops. The Australians had 320 men available for the assault, less than a quarter of what was waiting for them on top. The broader operation was called Commando. It was a limited offensive by the American First Corps, designed to push the Chinese back from the Imjin River to a new defensive line called the Jamestown Line, roughly 10 km north of the 38th parallel.
The idea was to give the United Nations more leverage at the truce negotiations then underway at Panmunjom. Four divisions would advance on a broad front. The First Commonwealth Division, which included the Australians, was responsible for a 15 km stretch on the right flank, and their job was to take two dominant hill features, Kowang San, Hill 355, and Maryang San, Hill 317.
The 28th British Commonwealth Brigade would carry the weight of the fighting, with 3 RAR assigned the harder of the two objectives. The man who would plan the assault was Lieutenant Colonel Frank Hassett. He was 33 years old, a Duntroon graduate from Marrickville in Sydney, the son of a railway yard manager who’d left school at 15 and talked his way into the Royal Military College after receiving special consideration from the selection board chairman.
He’d served at Bardia, Tobruk, New Guinea, and Bougainville during the Second War, made Lieutenant Colonel at 23, and arrived in Korea in June 1951 to take command of 3 RAR. He was tall, calm under fire, and his men later said that the sight of him standing upright during a barrage filled them with confidence he probably didn’t feel.
Hassett studied the approaches to Maryang San from the air and on the ground for a week before the operation began, and he settled on a tactic the Australians had used against the Japanese in New Guinea, running the ridges. Instead of attacking up the steep slopes the way the Americans had, he would move his companies along the crest lines, using the vegetation for cover and the high ground for speed, and hit the Chinese positions from directions they weren’t expecting.
Supporting the battalion was the 16th Field Regiment, Royal New Zealand Artillery, with 25-pounder field guns plus divisional and corps artillery assets that gave Hassett access to more than 120 guns and mortars, including 8-in howitzers and 155-mm batteries. Two squadrons of Centurion tanks from the 8th Royal Irish Hussars were also attached.
South African Mustangs from number two squadron would fly air strikes against Chinese positions north and west of the objectives to cut supply lines and block reinforcements. The operation kicked off on the 3rd of October with the first phase, securing Hill 199 as a fire support base and helping the British take Little Gibraltar.
B Company 3 RAR moved north 2,000 m across an open valley before dawn, covered by darkness and heavy mist, and took Hill 199 by 800 hours with only three wounded. Five Chinese were lost and one captured. A troop of Centurion tanks and a section of medium machine guns moved up onto the hill and began firing into the northern slopes of Hill 355 to support the King’s Own Scottish Borderers, who were assaulting from the southeast.
The Borderers hit hard resistance. Chinese artillery pounded the 28th Brigade area with more than 2 and 1/2 thousand rounds in 24 hours, though the Allied guns answered with over 22,000 rounds across the same front. By nightfall, the Borderers held the lower slopes of Little Gibraltar, but were still more than 1,000 yd short of the summit.
The problem was two positions on the northeast slopes, Hill 220, from which the Chinese held the British right flank in enfilade. Hassett was told to deal with it. On the morning of the 4th of October, C Company under Major Jack Gerke attacked the long spur running east from the peak of Hill 355. Gerke was the only officer in his company who’d been under fire before.
Two of his platoon commanders, Lieutenants Murray Peers and Arthur Pembroke, had graduated from Duntroon in December 1950 and arrived in Korea in July. Peers led the assault at first light after a pre-dawn approach march, and the first hill fell fast. The second fell after heavier fighting. Then, with the momentum carrying them forward, the Australians pushed a platoon toward the summit of Little Gibraltar and cleared the eastern slopes of Kowang San by noon, despite having received no orders to do so.
13 Chinese were lost and three captured. Australian casualties were 11 wounded, one of whom later passed. Gerke received the Distinguished Service Order. The Borderers, led by a bagpiper, simultaneously assaulted the western face, and the Chinese, caught between two attacks, abandoned Hill 355 and withdrew northwest under heavy fire.
But the loss of Little Gibraltar meant the Chinese knew what was coming next. They moved fresh troops into Maryang San overnight, reinforcing the garrison with a second battalion. The hill was now held by 1,200 men in well-prepared positions against 320 Australians who’d already been fighting and under shellfire for 2 days.
Hassett’s plan for the third phase was a coordinated assault. A company under Captain Jim Shelton would attack southwest along a spur leading to Hill 317 as a diversion, drawing Chinese reserves toward what they’d believe was the main effort. Meanwhile, the real attack would come along the northernmost ridge.
B Company under Captain Henry Nichols would clear a feature called Whiskey on the lower slopes. D Company under Hardiman would pass through and assault the Chinese main defensive position, designated Victor. Then, C Company, which had marched by a circuitous route from Kowang San, would leapfrog through both companies along the ridgetop and seize the crest of Maryang San itself.
The Royal Northumberland Fusiliers would attack Hill 217 to the southwest at the same time. Both assaults were to begin at first light, 5:45, following a heavy artillery preparation. >> [clears throat] >> The Australians moved into position northeast of Hill 199 on the afternoon of the 4th. Overnight, the divisional artillery hammered the Chinese positions with 8-in howitzers and 155-mm batteries adding their weight.
At 4:45 on the morning of the 5th, B and D companies crossed the valley in darkness, while the anti-tank platoon moved north across the Imjin to protect the right flank. The fog was thick, and B Company lost direction almost immediately. The lead company drifted right off the intended axis of advance, got separated from D Company, and the battalion plan began to come apart.
What Hassett had designed as a coordinated assault turned into a series of independent company actions. On the southern approach, the Royal Northumberland Fusiliers were having even worse luck. They’d struggled through the fog, couldn’t maintain bearings, and didn’t reach their start line until after 1000 hours.
When they finally assaulted Hill 217 at 11:00, the Chinese were ready for them. Despite getting one company onto the summit by midday, the Fusiliers were driven back with heavy casualties and ran low on ammunition. >> [clears throat] >> They couldn’t get forward to assist the Australians. 3 RAR was on its own.
D Company kept moving. When the mist burned off at 11:20, Hardiman’s men were exposed on the bare slope, still only halfway to their objective. But the Chinese had expected the main attack from the north, and the Australians were coming from the east. The defenders hesitated for a few seconds, apparently expecting the main effort from a different direction.
D Company closed to grenade range and tore into the Victor feature in a 20-minute firefight, supported by direct fire from tanks and indirect fire from the New Zealand gunners. Three Australians were lost and 12 wounded. Hardiman took a gunshot wound and stayed in command. One of his platoon commanders was also hit and also refused to leave.
The Chinese lost 30 men and 10 were taken prisoner. D company didn’t stop. They pressed along the high ground toward the next position, designated Uniform, assaulting deeply entrenched positions with heavy automatic weapons covering every approach. By 1600 hours, they’d taken the last of their intermediate objectives.
Lieutenant L. G. Clark received the Military Cross and Sergeant W. J. Rawlinson received a bar to his Distinguished Conduct Medal for the fighting at Uniform. By this point, total Chinese casualties on the ridge included 98 lost and 40 captured with a large number wounded. A company’s diversion on the left flank worked.
Shelton’s men attacked southwest along the spur and drew heavy fire, pulling Chinese reserves away from the main ridge. The company suffered 20 casualties while accounting for 25 Chinese lost and two captured. A platoon was later detached to help C company consolidate on the hilltop while the remaining two platoons pulled back under heavy artillery fire.
Shelton’s supporting role cost blood, but it split the Chinese defense at the moment it mattered most. With D company through the intermediate positions, C company moved up behind them and launched straight at the crest of Maryang San. There were no barbed wire obstacles. The Australians gained the position fast, taking 10 prisoners without a single casualty.
By 1700 hours, Hill 317 belonged to 3 RAR. The Chinese withdrew under artillery and machine gun fire from the Vickers guns commanded by Captain Reg Saunders. Saunders was the first Aboriginal Australian to be commissioned as an officer in the Australian Army, a Gunditjmara man from Western Victoria who’d already fought at Bardia, Tobruk, Greece, Crete, and New Guinea during the Second War and had led C company through the Battle of Kapyong 6 months earlier.
At Maryang San, he commanded the machine gun platoon and as he surveyed the hill before the attack, a fellow officer told him it was no country for white men. >> [clears throat] >> Saunders told him that explained why he felt right at home. The Australians immediately began converting the Chinese trench system from south-facing linear positions into an all-round defense with mutually supporting weapons pits.
Hassett moved the assault pioneer platoon forward to reinforce the hasty perimeter, expecting a counterattack that night. The Chinese still held the Sierra feature and the hinge, plus ground around the summit itself. The fight for Maryang San was half done. The night of the 5th passed quieter than expected. Both sides were spent from the day’s fighting and the Australians used the darkness to develop their positions and bring up supplies.
Brigadier George Taylor, commanding the 28th Brigade, ordered Hassett to take the Sierra feature the next day to add depth to the defense and probe the remaining Chinese positions. The Fusiliers would have another go at Hill 217. At 700 hours on the 6th of October, 9 Platoon of C company moved toward Sierra under fog.
The platoon was led by Lieutenant Arthur Pembroke, the 21-year-old Duntroon graduate who’d helped take Little Gibraltar 2 days earlier. The Australians expected the feature to be lightly held or empty, but they found a large number of Chinese in well-prepared defensive positions with overhead cover. Pembroke didn’t wait for fire support.
His platoon went in with grenades and bayonets, smashed through the defenders, and drove the survivors off the knoll. One Australian was lost in the initial assault. What followed was 13 hours of holding on. The Chinese threw counterattack after counterattack at 9 Platoon through the tree line and long grass, and each time the Australians cut them down with rifle and machine gun fire.
The Chinese left their casualties where they fell and kept coming. By nightfall, Pembroke’s Platoon had accounted for 19 Chinese fallen, 30 wounded, and seven captured while under constant shelling. Pembroke received the Military Cross. On Hill 217, the Fusiliers tried again and failed again. They attacked from the south and attempted flanking moves east and west, supported by divisional artillery and the 3 RAR machine gun platoon firing Vickers guns from Maryang San.
The Chinese bunkers at the summit held. By afternoon, the Fusiliers had taken more than 100 casualties over 2 days and were finished as a fighting force. The Chinese sensed weakness and launched their own assault, forcing the Fusiliers to withdraw under contact. The Fusiliers had been in Korea longer than any other British battalion and were overdue for rotation.
The fight had gone out of them. It was clear now that the only approach to Hill 217 was along the ridge from Hill 317 through the hinge, and Taylor gave the job to 3 RAR. B company would make the assault the next morning. Captain Henry Nichols brought B company up Hill 317 late on the afternoon of the 6th, secured the crest for the first time, and at last light joined Pembroke’s Platoon on Sierra to form up for the morning attack.
The hinge was a connecting ridge feature that dominated Hill 217 from the north. Whoever held the hinge controlled the approach to 217 and the Chinese knew it. The Allied artillery and mortar preparation began in the early hours of the 7th of October. Hassett moved his tactical headquarters onto Hill 317 just before the assault kicked off, putting himself on the forward slope where he could see the ground and direct fire support in real time.
The barrage went on until the fog lifted enough for the guns to fire until the last safe moment before the troops crossed the start line. >> [snorts] >> B company stepped off at 800 hours, moving down the ridgeline two up and one in depth using trees and long grass for concealment. At first, the position seemed empty as if the Chinese had pulled out overnight.
Then, small arms fire erupted from behind the lead platoons. The Chinese had let the forward elements pass and opened up from the rear. What followed was a series of vicious close-range firefights along the ridgeline. Lieutenant Jim Hughes, who had never been under fire before this operation began, led 4 Platoon in a grenade duel with the defending Chinese.
Corporal John Park and Corporal E. F. Bosworth fought their way through a connected trench system. By 9:20, the hinge fell. B company lost two men and 20 were wounded. The Chinese left more than 20 of their own on the position. Hughes and Nichols received the Military Cross. Park and Bosworth received the Military Medal.
The artillery and mortar fire that landed on the hinge within minutes of its capture was the heaviest 3 RAR had experienced in the war. B company scrambled to consolidate the position while the shells landed among them. Ammunition was already running short. Evacuating casualties under that weight of fire was close to impossible.
The assault pioneer platoon under Lieutenant Jock McCormick ran ammunition forward and carried stretchers back through shell fire that didn’t let up for the rest of the day. C company on Hill 317 also took a hammering. The anti-tank platoon and assault pioneer platoon reinforced them. And a platoon from C company was pushed forward to help B company hold the hinge.
At 2000 hours, the Chinese artillery lifted briefly and then came the counterattack. A fresh battalion from the 3rd Battalion, 571st Regiment, had been moved up to retake the position. Heavy mist covered their approach and many of the attackers penetrated the Australian perimeter before the defenders knew they were there.
Three separate assaults hit the hinge between 8:00 in the evening and 5:00 in the morning of the 8th. The fighting was hand-to-hand. Sergeant P. J. O’Connell saw his platoon’s Bren gun go down, took over the gun himself, and broke up an assault while directing the fire of the men around him. Sergeant R. W.
Strong organized the resupply of ammunition to the forward sections under fire. Both received the Military Medal. Ammunition ran critically low. One of B company’s two Vickers machine guns was destroyed by Chinese shelling and the belted ammunition from the wreck was broken up and distributed among the riflemen. The mismatched rounds caused jams and stoppages across the company.
The Australians used captured Chinese weapons, threw rocks, and in the worst of it, resorted to kicking and strangling attacking soldiers who’d breached the perimeter. Taylor ordered the King’s Own Scottish Borderers and the King’s Shropshire Light Infantry to send their Korean porters forward with ammunition.
A full divisional concentration of artillery, every gun the 1st Commonwealth Division had, fired in support of 3 RAR. The Chinese kept coming. Each wave got closer to overrunning the position and each time the Australians scraped together enough firepower to throw them back. B company held its ground through every assault.
At 500 hours on the 8th of October, the Chinese gave up. The 191st division pulled back 3 km, surrendering Hill 217 without a fight. At first light, more than 120 Chinese fallen and wounded lay around the Australian positions on the hinge and the slopes below it. Then, in a moment that had no precedent in the fighting so far, Chinese stretcher parties came forward under a white flag, and Hassett allowed them to collect their wounded.
3 RAR was relieved at 900 hours by the King’s Own Scottish Borderers. The Australians had held Maryang San for 5 days. 20 men had been lost and 104 wounded. The Chinese had 283 confirmed casualties by body count, 50 taken prisoner, and an estimated several hundred more wounded. Two Chinese battalions had been destroyed as fighting units, and a full brigade had been forced to abandon its prepared defensive positions.
The battalion had burned through 900,000 rounds of small arms ammunition, 5,000 grenades, and 7,000 mortar rounds, all of which had been carried up the ridges by Korean Service Corps porters and Australian soldiers on foot over extreme terrain, often while being shelled. Several Korean porters were lost during the resupply runs.
The New Zealand gunners of the 16th Field Regiment had fired more than 50,000 rounds in direct support of 3 RAR in over the 5 days, blistering the paint off their gun barrels. Hassett received an immediate Distinguished Service Order from the Divisional Commander, Major General James Cassels. Cassels would later describe the action as one of the finest battalion operations in British military history.
The official Australian historian for the Korean War, Robert O’Neill, wrote that the victory at Maryang San was probably the greatest single feat of the Australian Army during the conflict. Total decorations for the battalion included two Distinguished Service Orders, nine Military Crosses, one Member of the Order of the British Empire, two Distinguished Conduct Medals, nine Military Medals, and 15 Mentions in Dispatches.
Hassett had done what the Americans couldn’t and what the British couldn’t either. He’d taken a hill that the Chinese had fortified to hold against exactly this kind of assault, and he’d done it with a battalion at less than half strength, using a tactic his predecessors had figured out against the Japanese in the jungles of New Guinea 8 years earlier.
Running the ridges worked on Korean hilltops for the same reason it had worked on Papuan spurs, because it put the attacker on the high ground, used the terrain for cover instead of fighting against it, and hit the defense where it wasn’t looking. Then, the British lost it. On the 5th of November, less than a month after the Australians had been withdrawn, the Chinese launched a 15-hour bombardment of Maryang San that included rockets, followed by a massed infantry assault with three battalions against the 400 British troops holding
the position. The King’s Own Scottish Borderers were overrun. Private Bill Speakman of the Black Watch, attached to the Borderers, gathered six men and led a series of grenade charges to cover the withdrawal. When the grenades ran out, they threw beer bottles and tin cans from the kitchen supply.
Speakman kept fighting with shrapnel wounds in his shoulder and leg. He received the Victoria Cross, the first invested by Queen Elizabeth II. Maryang San stayed in Chinese hands for the rest of the war. The men of 3 RAR who’d bled for that ridge line heard the news in their rest area. Five of the 20 Australians who’d been lost at Maryang San had also survived the Battle of Kapyong 6 months earlier.
They’d beaten the Chinese twice and come out standing both times. The hill they’d taken at a cost of 124 casualties was gone inside 4 weeks. The war that followed was a static grind of trenches, bunkers, wiring parties, and minefields that looked like the Western Front in 1916, and Maryang San was the last Australian maneuver battle before it all froze in place.
Korea became the forgotten war. The families didn’t forget, and neither did the diggers. But Australia moved on, and the hill where 320 Australians beat 1,200 Chinese in 5 days of close-range fighting stayed Chinese until the armistice in 1953. Frank Hassett went home in July 1952 and went on to become Chief of the Defense Force.
Reg Saunders left the army in 1954, couldn’t get a soldier settlement block or education assistance because of his race, and went to work in a sawmill. He later became one of the first liaison officers for the Office of Aboriginal Affairs and received a Member of the Order of the British Empire for his services to Aboriginal communities.
He passed in 1990. The RSL now gives an annual scholarship in his name.