FOSTORIA — Fifteen veterans of the U.S. Armed Forces gathered for a pheasant hunt at a farm north of town on a recent Saturday. They were the guests of a man they never had met, and whose tale they had not yet heard.
Rudy Beham, a Marine Corps veteran of the Korean War and a survivor of the Battle of Chosin Reservoir, taught his sons to hunt and they honored their late father by sponsoring a pheasant hunt for veterans at Clay's Pheasant Ridge outside Fostoria. Joe Beham, front left, kneels next to his father, Rudy Beham, with Rick Beham (left) and Bob Beham standing behind.
But once they took a walk with Rudy along his life’s powerful storyline, it is certain each member of the group had a different perspective on the meaning of challenge, commitment, and true heroism.
Rudy Beham did a lot in his 88 years, but maybe one of his greatest accomplishments was rewriting, revising, and reconfiguring the way we define a legacy. The path he took can humble, it can encourage, and it can uplift. And it also can be overwhelming to process.
Rudy was the youngest of four sons of his German immigrant parents, and the only one born in America. He grew up in West Toledo, graduated from DeVilbiss, and enlisted in the U.S. Marines at age 19. Beham was just 21 when he and his fellow Marines engaged a massive Chinese military force in the Battle of the Chosin Reservoir during the Korean War.
Outnumbered maybe 10-to-1 and facing temperatures of 30-below zero, the Marines fought their way down an enemy-filled gauntlet that took them through narrow mountain passes and along a treacherous roadway as they tried to reach the relative safety of the coast.
Military historians often have referred to the battle at the Chosin Reservoir as “the most violent small unit fighting in the history of American warfare.” And Rudy was there. The battle lasted 17 days and, in the bitter cold, the lubricants in many weapons froze and the troops engaged in hand-to-hand combat. There were more than 7,000 confirmed cases of frostbite on the U.S. side, including Rudy.
After the war, Beham returned to Toledo and first went to work at Toledo Pipe Threading, where he met his wife, Betty. He built the family home where the couple raised seven children, and Rudy went on to work at Libbey-Owens-Ford, spending 36 years at the iconic Toledo institution before retiring.
Rudy taught his boys to hunt and, after his death in May at the age of 88, those sons decided doing something for U.S. veterans would be an appropriate means of honoring their father, one of “The Chosin Few” that are revered by service members of every era.
Nick Woodas, a 60-year-old U.S. Army veteran from Findlay who took part in the pheasant hunt, said hearing the details of Rudy’s service — and what that young Marine endured fighting for his country — left him grateful to be involved in the event bearing Rudy’s name.
“When you hear about guys who have gone through stuff like that, it makes you proud to have even been in the service,” Woodas said.
“There’s really nothing I can add to that — he has a pretty amazing story,” said Steve Wright, who served in the U.S. Army Special Forces from 1968-71 and was another one of the vets who took part in the pheasant hunt. “I was honored to participate and help honor that man for his service.”
Rudy was awarded the National Defense Service Medal, the Korean Service Medal with four bronze stars, the United Nations Service Medal, a Presidential Unit Citation Ribbon, and the Korean Presidential Unit Citation, awarded by the Republic of South Korea.
If he were here to tell us, Rudy likely would cite serving his country and caring for his family as the greatest achievements of his long life.
“He went through a lot as a very young man, and the things he saw in that battle — it had a very deep impact on him,” said Beham’s son, Joe, who added after his dad’s combat experiences, the elder Beham suffered night tremors throughout his life.
“He was just 21, a kid, and he saw his buddies getting shot up, stacks of frozen bodies ... I’m sure he had PTSD, but he was somehow able to push all of that aside and be the most kind and caring human being you can imagine. He was a gentle guy, and his smile said it all.”
Joe said his dad’s deep compassion for his fellow man came out in some of Rudy’s infrequent comments on his service.
“Those were unbelievable men who served in that war and went through those incredibly challenging conditions, and fighting in hand-to-hand combat. I remember him talking about friendly fire strafing his group, and how he felt sorry for the Chinese soldiers who were just a bunch of guys not prepared for this kind of battle, and just sent off to slaughter by their leaders,” Joe said.
“He talked about it a little and, looking back, I wish I would have pressed him more on it. Considering what he faced, it’s amazing my dad came through it all and went on to have a very productive life.”
Joe started hunting with his dad when Joe was just nine, but he did not carry a gun at that age. He was “kicking the bushes” and getting an education in the field.
“It was just a time to be out there with him, learning all there is to know about hunting and doing it the right way,” Joe said. “He gave us a lot of good direction when he took us hunting. There are just so many fond memories associated with hunting with my dad.”
Decades ago, opening day of pheasant season fell on Nov. 15 each year, and Joe’s dad would let the boys skip school and hunt with him on a relative’s farm in Berkey.
“I could hardly sleep the night before, I was so excited,” Joe said. “We’d go to the church in Berkey for a hunter’s luncheon, and I remember my first gun was a 16 gauge double-barrel shotgun that my dad gave me — it had belonged to my dad’s brother Joe, my namesake, who had died at age 21 of tuberculosis.”
When pheasants became tougher to come by in Ohio, Rudy and his sons hunted in Iowa a few times, and also hunted deer in Ohio. Rudy hunted on, even as he was on dialysis three days per week, and harvested his last deer at age 84.
That button buck wandered a bit too close to the ground blind the boys had made out of an old Rubbermaid shed and, at 10:30 a.m. Dec. 2, 2013, on a tract of old Ohio strip mine property near Cadiz, Rudy dropped that deer at about 75 yards.
“It was a fantastic day and one I will never forget, given it was the last deer my dad ever shot,” Joe said. “For us, it was a trophy buck and to have us three boys with him and the smile on his face ... priceless. As a dad, he was always more happy and proud if we got a deer, but us boys couldn’t have been more happy and proud of him that day.”
And the pride likely was flowing across the cut corn and stubble fields at Clay’s Pheasant Ridge, a first-class operation where the vets were accompanied by guides, and a group of well-schooled bird dogs.
“Our veterans are the rock of this country and, with my dad’s legacy, we thought it would be nice to give something back,” Joe said.
“It was a beautiful, crisp morning and a great hunt. We played the national anthem, talked a little about dad, and had a really good time. We want to make it an annual thing, and I think my dad would be smiling with approval over that.”
Matt Markey
Outdoors Editor/The Toledo Blade newspaper
Toledo, Ohio
Outdoor Writers of Ohio Board of Directors
Southeastern Outdoor Press Association