I was in the US Army, stationed at Camp Edwards, Paju (Geomchon), South Korea, in 1990. I hated my sergeant – he was corrupt, which distorted my chain of command.
He would volunteer our squad for details (extra tasks, like cleaning post latrines or moving boxes at the warehouse), currying favor with the Company CO, and then promptly disappear, to meet with his girlfriend at the post NCO club (bear in mind that he was married, with a wife and kids back in the States, and that his girlfriend, as an enlisted member of the same battalion, was off-limits due to rules about fraternization). The rest of the squad was on the line for getting the detail done.
The sergeant was a terrible hypocrite, and it was only a matter of time before I got out of line and said something insubordinate. When I did, I was disciplined. The company CO put me on an "extra duty" detail that was, in fact, the best thing that happened to me in the Army.
I was obligated to ride as a "US military presence" with a group of Korean civilians whose job it was to go onto US bases all over Gyeonggi Province and collect boxes for shipment of personal effects of US service personnel, via civilian courier, back to the US (or to other US military bases around the world). I think basically I was with them to provide a kind of "peace of mind" to the US military personnel who were entrusting their possessions to the Korean civilians. I accompanied an ROK NCO who was functioning as a "Customs liaison" – his job was to make sure no US soldiers were shipping contraband. My job was just to tag along so that the military presence was "bi-national," as far as I could tell. I had no actual duty whatsoever, although at the start of the duty I'd been forced to memorize a set of Korean customs regulations as applied to US service personnel.
I was never called upon to make use of this information, however. Sometimes the ROK soldier would make me hold his clipboard. Typically, the Korean soldiers always enjoyed chances to be "in command" of US soldiers, and I was happy to go along with it, for the most part. None of the Korean NCO's I worked with were in any way corrupt compared to the US NCO's at Camp Edwards, who, with the shining exception of Staff Sergeant Jones (a few links up my chain of command, and the closest kind of "friend" I had during this period), were all a pretty bad bunch.
The ROK soldier, who was a different person on different days, was really the only person who had any English competency at all. The Korean "ajeossis" who packed the boxes and drove the truck had only a few limited phrases. They were exceedingly kind and friendly toward me, however, and during my 3 months of special duty, I became a part of their "team," in a way that never occurred with the ROK soldiers. I was their pet American. I spent between 6 and 8 hours a day with this team, 4 days a week. I loved riding around the Korean countryside with them, from US base to US base, from Panmunjom (several times) all the way down to Osan. I got to visit every single active US military installation in the region, while spending most of my time in transit between, stopping at bunshik joints at the side of the highway and eating excessively spicy ramen with slices American cheese floating on top – a favorite of these men. I learned some of my first phrases of Korean. All these years later, they are still the few phrases that come most naturally to me.
There were long waits, sometimes. I carried my current Dostoyevsky or Gogol novel and would read. The Camp Edwards post library inexplicably had an excellent collection of Russian literature in translation, and thus my year in Korea was when I worked my way through most of the Russian greats. I also had my little Sony Walkman (this was 1990, right?). I only had 4 cassettes, however. So they were on constant rotation.
One of those tapes was Nik Kershaw. Even now, if I hear one of his songs, I become exceedingly nostalgic for those road trips along the DMZ with those ajeossis. This is even stronger when the day is drizzly and gray, late Summer fading into early Fall, and I look out my window at the same Korea I saw then (with a few buildings added). The picture (found online), above right, shows the south check point, back in the day, which I remember vaguely. It's less than 10 km from my current home. I start craving spicy cheese ramen.
What I'm listening to right now.
Nik Kershaw, "Know How."
Lyrics.
Got a badge upon my chest
I'm a cut above the rest
So I can tell you what to do
Got my regimental hat
Got my "by the good book" chat
So I can tell you where to go
I've got a job to do and I'm telling you
I intend to do it well
It's easy when you know how
Got my smart uniform
And my duty to perform
So I
Don't care you who you are
I'm the only one who can spoil your fun
With one shake of the head
It's easy when you know how, know way
Know where and know today
Know mercy, know time
Know reason, know rhyme
Know how
I can tell you I'm the law
With my medals from the war
So don't tell me what to do
With my narrow point of view
Though I know you're probably right, I guess
It's still not easy saying yes
It's easy when you know how, know way
Know where and know today
Know mercy, know time
Know reason, know rhyme
Know how
[daily log: walking, 1.5km]