The Only Weapon: War Correspondents in Korea and the Perils of the Forgotten War

In the summer of 1950, as the Korean People’s Army swept across the 38th parallel, a small army of journalists scrambled to catch up with the fighting. By early August, less than two months after the war began, 15 Australian correspondents had already been accredited with United States Far East headquarters. They carried little more than a notebook, a pencil, and a camera, yet they faced the same gunfire, frostbite, and typhus as the soldiers they accompanied. The Korean War, often called the “Forgotten War,” was a crucible for war correspondents, who found themselves living with the troops, dodging bullets, and struggling against censorship—all while trying to tell the world what was happening in a brutal, mountainous peninsula. Their stories, preserved in photographs, dispatches, and personal recollections, reveal a war that was as dangerous for the press as for the fighting men.

What Happened?

The Korean War began on June 25, 1950, when the Korean People’s Army crossed the 38th parallel, invading South Korea. Australia committed the Royal Australian Navy, followed by the Royal Australian Air Force and the Australian Army, and Australian newspapers quickly moved to send correspondents to cover the conflict. By early August 1950, just over a month later, 15 Australian journalists were accredited with the United States Far Eastern headquarters. Among them was Harry Gordon, a 24-year-old reporter for the Melbourne Sun, who was assigned to the 3rd Battalion, the Royal Australian Regiment (3RAR).

The press presence grew rapidly. As a Time magazine report from the period noted, “By last week there were 271 correspondents from 19 countries reporting the Korean war.” The magazine’s correspondent described a harassed Public Information officer who looked over a half-dozen newly arrived correspondents and muttered wearily: “By the time we start getting back some of the ground we’ve lost, there’ll be a reporter in every rifle squad.”

The correspondents were not a uniform group. Some were seasoned veterans of World War II, others were young and fresh. They came from newspapers, wire services, and radio networks. They were accredited to different units, often living with the troops day and night. The Australian War Memorial records that “many Australian journalists accompanied troops, often living with them day-to-day. This close proximity amid the often static nature of the war in Korea led to many close relationships between Australian soldiers and journalists.”

The physical conditions were brutal. The Time report described the scene: “In Korea, the going was almost as rough for correspondents as it was for soldiers. Most of them took their chances with the troops, ate and slept where they could, were soon covered with mosquito and flea bites.” The winter of 1950–51 was especially harsh, with temperatures dropping far below freezing, as seen in a famous Australian War Memorial photograph of correspondents huddling around a fire to keep warm.

Censorship was a constant frustration. The Australian War Memorial notes that “Australian war correspondents were sometimes frustrated by censorship of their reports.” But they were still able to send back stories, and they were often the only connection between the soldiers and the home front.

How It Was Seen at the Time

Contemporaries saw the correspondents as a curious mix of heroes and irritants. The soldiers they covered often respected them, but also saw them as outsiders. A striking quote from James “Jim” Smyth, a war correspondent, captures this: “They don’t regard themselves as heroes, refuse to accept that their courage is greater than yours. ‘What about yourself mate,’ they say, ‘You come up with nothing but a notebook and pencil.’”

The public at home saw the correspondents as the eyes of the nation. The Australian War Memorial observed that “since the conflict in the Sudan in 1885, Australian journalists have been with Australian troops in war, reporting on action and events as they happened.” The correspondents were seen as carrying on a proud tradition, but the Korean War was different—it was a “police action,” not a declared war, and the public was less engaged than in World War II. Many correspondents themselves felt that their work was underappreciated, and the term “Forgotten War” was already beginning to be used.

Historical Snapshot

Eyewitness Accounts

The most vivid primary sources are the recollections of the correspondents themselves. Harry Gordon, who was 24 years old when he was accredited to 3RAR in 1950, later described the experience of being with the soldiers. The Australian War Memorial photograph shows Gordon talking to Korean villagers, and his account is a mix of danger and curiosity. Another Australian correspondent, Jim Smyth, gave a telling quote about the soldiers’ view of the press: they saw the journalist as someone who “came up with nothing but a notebook and pencil” and yet shared the same risks.

A Time magazine article from the period described the atmosphere: “Debonair Columnist Joe Alsop flew in to Tokyo with five pieces of luggage en route to Korea, was finally convinced that he needed only a single musette bag. Randolph Churchill, representing the London Daily Telegraph, caused an uproar in Tokyo’s Press Club by demanding that he be allowed to sign chits for drinks before he had plunked down his membership deposit. (He was put out.)” These anecdotes reveal the mix of glamour and absurdity that surrounded the correspondents.

The Australian War Memorial’s photograph of a group of correspondents huddling around a fire in the winter of 1950–51 shows the reality: they are bundled in heavy coats, their faces lit by the flames, and they look tired and cold. The caption notes that the group included photographer Lloyd Brown, journalist Ronald Monson of the Sydney Daily Telegraph, Harry Gordon, and broadcaster Des Telfer. These men were not just observers; they were participants in the daily grind of war.

Daily Life

The daily life of a war correspondent in Korea was physically demanding and psychologically taxing. They lived alongside the soldiers, often sleeping in tents or dugouts, eating the same rations, and enduring the same weather. The Time article noted that they were “soon covered with mosquito and flea bites.” In the winter, they huddled around fires for warmth, as the Australian War Memorial photograph shows. They were often forced to travel on foot or in military vehicles, and they carried only a musette bag with the essentials. The Time article noted that Joe Alsop was convinced to pack only a single musette bag, a sign of the need to travel light.

The work itself was a constant struggle against censorship. Reports had to be filed quickly, and they were subject to military review. The Australian War Memorial notes that correspondents were “sometimes frustrated by censorship of their reports,” but they still managed to send back dispatches. The close proximity to the troops also meant that they had to manage the emotional strain of seeing comrades wounded or killed. They were not immune to the dangers: many correspondents were killed or wounded during the war, though the sources do not give exact numbers.

Contemporary Newspaper Coverage

Newspapers were the primary source of war news. Australian newspapers, such as the Melbourne Sun and the Sydney Daily Telegraph, sent correspondents to cover the war. The Australian War Memorial notes that “as Australia committed the Royal Australian Navy, followed by the Royal Australian Air Force and the Australian Army, Australian newspapers moved to send correspondents to cover the war.” The coverage was often dramatic, but also subject to censorship. The Time magazine article, published in the early months of the war, gave a vivid picture of the press corps: “In Korea last week, a harassed Public Information officer looked over half a dozen correspondents who had just flown in from Tokyo and muttered wearily: ‘By the time we start getting back some of the ground we’ve lost, there’ll be a reporter in every rifle squad.’” The tone was both humorous and serious, emphasizing the sheer number of journalists and the chaos of the war.

Australian correspondents like Harry Gordon filed dispatches that were published in the Melbourne Sun. The Australian War Memorial’s photograph of Gordon with Korean villagers suggests that he was not only covering combat but also the human story of the war. The reporting was often shaped by the need to maintain morale at home, but it also brought the harsh realities of the war to the public.

What People Knew at the Time

Aftermath

The Korean War ended with an armistice on July 27, 1953, but the correspondents’ work did not end. Many of them returned home to write books and memoirs, and their photographs and dispatches became historical records. The Australian War Memorial’s collection includes many of these items. The war also set a precedent for how journalists would cover future conflicts, with a mix of embedded reporting and censorship. The correspondents themselves were often haunted by what they had seen. The “Forgotten War” remained in the public memory for decades, but the work of these correspondents ensured that it was not entirely forgotten.

How Historians See It Today

Modern historians, such as Miri Moon in her book International News Coverage and the Korean Conflict, have examined the ways in which journalists covered the war and the factors that influenced their reporting. Moon’s research, based on interviews with foreign correspondents and Korean journalists from the AP, Reuters, The New York Times, the BBC, and other outlets, shows that the challenges of the Korean War were not just physical but also political. Historians now see the Korean War correspondents as pioneers of modern war reporting, who faced a new kind of conflict—a limited war with a high risk of escalation—and who had to navigate censorship and propaganda. They also see the correspondents as having a profound impact on the way the war was understood, and their work is now a valuable primary source for understanding the war.

The primary sources from the Korean War—the photographs, the dispatches, the letters—remain a powerful reminder of the risks that journalists take to bring the truth to the world. They also remind us that the “Forgotten War” was not forgotten by those who were there. As Jim Smyth’s quote suggests, the correspondents were not heroes in their own eyes, but they were witnesses, and their work has allowed us to see the war as it was.