So compelling was the lure of loot that small groups of Chinese came down from the high ground toward the man-made hell of flame and explosions. Between clouds of smoke they could be seen picking over the debris, and the Marine tanks cranked off a few rounds at targets of opportunity.
It is not likely that any of Roise’s weary troops paused for a last sentimental look over their shoulders at the dying Korean town. Hagaru was not exactly a pleasure resort, and yet hundreds of Marines and soldiers owed their lives to the fact that this forward base had enabled the Division to evacuate all casualties and fly in replacements while regrouping for the breakout to the seacoast.
If it had not been for the forethought of the Division and Wing commanders, with the concurrence of General Almond, there would have been no R4D airstrip, no stockpiles of ammunition, rations and medical supplies. And though the Marines might conceivably have fought their way out of the CCF encirclement without a Hagaru, it would have been at the cost of abandoning much equipment and suffering much higher casualties.
Only a few weeks before, this Korean town had been merely an unknown dot on the map. But on 7 December 1950 the name was familiar to newspaper readers and radio listeners all over the United States as they anxiously awaited tidings of the breakout. Already it had become a name to be remembered in U. S. Marine annals along with such historical landmarks as Belleau Wood, Guadalcanal, Peleliu and Iwo Jima.
Prospects of a warm meal and a night’s sleep meant more than history to Roise’s troops when the column moved out at last shortly after noon, with the engineers bringing up the rear to blow bridges along the route. A pitiful horde of Korean refugees followed the troops—thousands of men, women and children with such personal belongings as they could carry. Efforts on the part of the engineers to warn the refugees of impending demolitions were futile. Although these North Koreans had enjoyed for five years the “blessings” of Communist government, the prospect of being left behind to the tender mercies of the Chinese Communists was so terrifying that they took appalling risks. Knowing that a bridge was about to blow up at any instant, they swarmed across in a blind panic of flight. Never did war seem more harsh or its victims more pathetic.[572]
[572] Sexton interv, 16 May 51.
The rear guard had less air and artillery support than any of the preceding troops, yet CCF opposition was confined to scattered small-arms fire all the way to Hell Fire Valley. There the enemy lobbed over a few mortar shells during a long halt at dusk, but the rest of the advance was uneventful. Gould’s engineers took chances repeatedly of being cut off when they fell behind to burn abandoned vehicles or blow bridges. On several occasions a small group found itself entirely isolated as the infantry and even the refugees pushed on ahead. Luckily the engineers made it without any casualties, and by midnight the last troops of the 1st Marine Division had entered the perimeter at Koto-ri.
Thus the first stage of the Division breakout came to a close. In proportion to total numbers, the service troops of Division Train No. 1 had taken the heaviest losses—six killed and 12 wounded for the Division Headquarters Company; one killed and 16 wounded for the Military Police Company; four killed and 28 wounded for the 1st Motor Transport Battalion; one killed and 27 wounded for the 1st Ordnance Battalion; and three killed and 34 wounded for the 3d Battalion of the 11th Marines. Battle casualties for the entire 1st Marine Division, including those of the East Hill battle, were as follows:
| Dates | KIA | DOW | MIA | WIA | Totals |
| 6 Dec | 32 | 4 | 7 | 218 | 261 |
| 7 Dec | 51 | 16 | 0 | 288 | 355 |
| Totals | 83 | 20 | 7 | 506 | 616[573] |
[573] Div Adjutant SAR, Appendix II, 3.