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How a Marine’s Hatred During the Korean War Turned into Love

This 90-year-old veteran has returned to visit South Korea nine times


spinner image Sal Scarlato places his hand on his chest. American and Korean flags are in the background.
Sal Scarlato at his New York home.
Justin Kaneps

My story is about hell and hatred, but it is also a story about love.

Now you’ve got to understand something. A 19-year old that goes into the military doesn’t have a clue what he’s getting into. He doesn’t have a clue about war. He doesn’t have a clue about what a bullet could do to a human body. When I first went to Korea, I said to my superiors: Why are we going to Korea? Where the hell is Korea? Nobody knows anything about Korea. 

I was assigned to Baker Company, and we were headed to the MLR — the Main Line of Resistance. We only got three-quarters of the way when we were hit with light fire and mortars. The Chinese liked to attack when it was getting dark. They would blow a horn and then: attack. We jumped out of our truck. The sergeant kept yelling, “Head for the rice paddy!” I started praying. I prayed to every saint, in every religion I could think.

spinner image closeup of a rusty dog tag with the text thank you veterans engraved in it, next to a flag of the United States

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Over the next many months, there were many battles. There were monsoons, rain so heavy you couldn’t see in front of you. I carried a Browning automatic rifle. It weighed about 20 pounds, and the ammo belt weighed about 13 pounds. I carried a .45 and two canteens of water because it got so hot. I carried all that up mountains, time and again.

One day, we were under heavy fire from the Chinese for 24 hours straight. The guy next to me got hit in the stomach. I had just met him, and he fell on top of me. I put my hand on his belly to apply pressure, but his whole insides were blown out. This was the first, but not the last time, a fellow Marine died in my arms.

In July of 1952, I was wounded. They flew me on a helicopter to a hospital ship and I lived in a bucket of ice for two weeks because my right leg was so swollen. I thought I had a million-dollar wound, because I thought I was going home. But they sent me back to my unit. Back into the war.

One day, we were patrolling and we came into this area. We found civilians — South Koreans — that had been executed. There were three little children alive, a boy and two girls. I took the little boy to an orphanage, but he died when he got there. When I got back to my bunker, I felt so much hate. It tore me apart. I was sitting there crying, and the guys were saying,

“Calm down, calm down.” A corpsman tried to give me something, a pill, but I refused it.

And then, I saw this object. A very bright object. It spoke to me, and it said, “Now you know why you are in Korea. It is to save these people.” And that’s all it said.

Ever since, I have loved the Korean people. I felt sorry for them. Why should these civilians suffer? A soldier has to fight. These people were not soldiers. They were just thrown to the wolves. In those days, the term PTSD did not exist. They called it combat fatigue or battle fatigue. Back in the States, I spent six months in a naval hospital, from a combination of my wounds and PTSD. Then, I came home.

spinner image Sal Scarlato points to a photo of himself in Korea in nineteen fifty two.
Sal Scarlato points at a photo of himself in Korea in 1952.
Justin Kaneps

I have been back to South Korea nine times. South Korea is the only country we ever fought for that still honors us today. I have got South Koreans that are my brothers. That is why my story of hatred and hell has become a story of love. 

As told to A.J. Baime

This article was originally published in the November issue of AARP's The Bulletin as part of a "Heroes of the Forgotten War" feature marking the 70th anniversary of the Korean War armistice.

You can subscribe here to AARP Veteran Report, a free e-newsletter published twice a month. If you have feedback or a story idea then please contact us here.

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