Grace under fire: true story of a real war horse

From My San Antonio: Grace under fire: true story of a real war horse
War Horse, the just-released Steven Spielberg film and Tony-winning play, were based on a children's fiction book, but Korean War veteran Harold Wadley has seen a true war horse. She was Reckless, a little sorrel mare purchased by a Marine to pack ammunition to the front line and carry the wounded back to safety. But here's the thing: She did it on her own. And she kept climbing those hills even after she was hit by shrapnel.

"As long as I live, I will never forget that image of Reckless against the skyline, her silhouette in the flare lights," said Wadley, 78, by phone from his ranch in St. Maries, Idaho. "It was just unbelievable, in all that intense fire, in the middle of this chaos. I said, 'Dad gum, that's that mare!' "

Known as Flame in her former racehorse career, the mare was renamed in honor of the Recoilless Rifle Platoon of the 5th Marines, her new home.

In one hellish battle in March 1953, Reckless made 51 trips from an ammunition-supply point to forward gun sites, carrying a total of 386 rounds (more than 9,000 pounds of explosives). The trails were rutted and winding, sometimes at a steep 45-degree angle.

She also once served as a shield for four Marines working their way up to an embattled foxhole. She had been taught to step over communication lines and barbed wire, and to lower her head when the shelling became intense.

Still, Wadley said, he feared for her life.

"I saw her about three or four times that night, and I figured she'd end up dead," he said. "I never thought she'd survive."

But survive she did, and word of her heroism spread. She was given the rank of corporal and earned two Purple Hearts and other citations. She got rock-star treatment in newsreels and the Saturday Evening Post.

After the Korean truce, the Marines refused to leave her behind. She was flown to Japan, then boarded a ship to San Francisco. There, she was greeted by several of the men whose lives she had touched.

She retired at Camp Pendleton, near San Diego, and by 1959 was promoted to the rank of staff sergeant, an honor never bestowed on an animal before or since.

She died in 1968, and a marker still stands at the post stables.

Robin Hutton read about Reckless five years ago in Chicken Soup for the Horse Lovers' Soul and today leads efforts to bring her story to a new generation. She has commissioned a statue and has visions of a replica at Pendleton and the U.S. Marine Corps Museum in Quantico, Va.

"Really, I'd like to see statues of this little horse everywhere," Hutton, of Ventura, Calif., said. "What she did was amazing."