Then they appeared—as they had the previous night at Yudam-ni and Toktong Pass. Here came the smashing cymbals, the blatting bugles, the shrilling whistles—an “exotic concert,” as one Marine put it. And then masses of men, moving through the night, throwing themselves at the Americans. Said one Marine: “It was as though a whole field got up on its feet and walked forward. I never saw anything like it.” Said another: “A hell of a lot of Chinese went down, but a hell of a lot more kept coming. You got the impression the waves were endless, like surf lapping on a beach.”
