When the Chinese army came pouring out of the mountains in November 1950 and the whole American Eighth Army was in danger of being wiped out, the unit that turned and fought a desperate rearguard to save it was not American. It was Turkish. And they fought with the bayonet. Most people have no idea Turkey even sent troops to Korea. It did, a whole brigade of them, some of the toughest soldiers in the entire United Nations force. They arrived just in time to be thrown into the worst crisis of the war. In late November 1950, hundreds of thousands of Chinese soldiers had secretly crossed into Korea and launched a massive surprise offensive that shattered the UN advance and sent the Eighth Army reeling backward in what became one of the longest retreats in American military history. The danger was that the retreat would turn into annihilation. The Chinese were trying to get around the flanks and behind the withdrawing Americans to cut them off and destroy them in the open, especially around a place called Kunuri. Somebody had to stand in the gap and hold the enemy back long enough for the main body to escape. That job fell to the Turkish Brigade. What the Turks did over the next three days became legend among the men who witnessed it. Facing far larger Chinese forces, with communications cut and on bad ground, they dug in and fought. When the Chinese tried to swarm around their flanks and rear, the Turks did the thing that had gone out of fashion in modern war. They fixed bayonets and charged. In close, brutal, hand to hand fighting on the hills and in the valleys, they hurled the enemy back with cold steel, holding positions long after most units would have broken. They paid a terrible price. Hundreds of Turkish soldiers were killed, wounded, or lost in those days of fighting. But their stand did exactly what it had to do. By absorbing the Chinese blow and refusing to break, the Turks bought the time the Eighth Army needed to pull back without being encircled and destroyed. Even General MacArthur, not a man given to sharing credit, said it plainly. He told the American public that it was because of the Turks that the Eighth Army could withdraw without falling apart, that the UN forces had been saved from encirclement by the heroism the Turks had shown. The Turkish soldiers earned a fearsome reputation in Korea for exactly this, ferocity, discipline, and a refusal to leave the field. And it forged a bond between Turkey and South Korea that is remarkably strong to this day, two countries that call each other brother nations because of what happened on those frozen hills. Yet in most Western tellings of the war, the men who saved the Eighth Army at Kunuri barely rate a sentence. They deserve a great deal more than that.