Sunday, October 5, 2008
Love American VS Korean Style #8
Dear Reader, go to parts 1-7 of Love American VS Korean Style, so as to be up to snuff before reading this latest installment of JihadGene's love of his life.
To recap...met future wife in Army snack bar sitting with friends. Made best friend out of friends to get at future wife (KIM). I tried to get to first base with Kim. No good. I take another route and set up mutual friend's birthday party in order to get to be with Kim. Birthday guy get's drunk, pukes on Kim. Kim leaves party. JihadGene feels like one sad G.I. then some Korean Grandma's (Shaman) at the birthday party take pity on me, thanks to my limited Korean language skills, and try to fix things with Kim by going to talk to her. All eleven or more of us, crowd into one tiny taxi and head to Kim's place to patch things up. I never get to see Kim but the Grandma's tell me it's all good in the hood and to kick rocks. At least I now know where Kim lives. It's almost curfew (midnight). I have no overnight US Forces Korea pass, no money, no smokes to barter with, and no luck. I run for my US Army camp which is a good 10km away. I see a bus leaving. I jump onto the rear bumper of the bus and hang on for dear life. This got me a few fast kilometers down the road until the bus hits a bomb-crater of a pot hole in the road and I'm pitched off at 40MPH. I survive. Banged-up, scraped-up, and bleeding slightly, but not in too bad of shape once I shake off the effects of a mild concussion. It's now a few minutes after curfew and two Korean National Policemen (KNP's) spot me. I run/limp quickly and they blow their police whistles at me, giving chase. I lose them for a little while then crack my head open on the low awning of a Korean tiled roof. This is concussion #2 in about 5 minutes time. Here come the cops! So begins "Operation Escape and Evade".
Where I left off... It's now a few minutes after curfew and two Korean National Policemen (KNP's, Bert & Ernie) spot me. I run/limp quickly, while holding my head, and they blow their police whistles at me, giving chase. Now...my Dad was not only a field wire-man in the U.S. Marine Corps but he was also an electrician. I therefore did that which came naturally...I climbed a telephone pole and the cops lost me. Having broken contact with the enemy (Korean Police), I climb down the pole in my cowboy boots, and proceed through the dark South Korean city streets. Then, like a gift pig from the Korean Witches (Grandmothers), I see a bicycle propped up against a wall. It has only a rear tire. The front tire is completely missing. Utilizing skills learned on a Sting Ray bicycle as a kid, I popped a wheelie and was on my merry way, in a pathetic attempt to avoid disciplinary action from my command and get back to base during nationwide curfew. I already told you how it's after midnight, the streets are mostly dark and deserted, except for Korean National Police and the R.O.K. Army who have set up various check points throughout the port city of Pusan, South Korea (pop. 2,000,000 in 1975). Some of the Korean residential streets have these "banjo ditches". The ditches are basically open sewers with trash in them. It was a common sight to see kids and old men peeing in them during daylight hours. On I rode, on one wheel, into the chill of the city night.How I wished it was daylight hours now, but it wasn't. How I wished Kim would fall in love with me, but I doubted it. How I wished there wasn't a curfew in Korea, but I was dreaming. How I wished the Korean cops wouldn't catch me... and so far they hadn't. How I wished I had been paying stricter attention to the edge of the banjo-ditch...and I wasn't. So began "Operation Creature from the Black Lagoon".
WHOOOMPH!!! What the hell?! Where am I? I have ridden into a banjo-ditch! Awww, man. Though the night air is cold, the sewage sludge is kinda warm...it's almost insulating I note as I regain consciousness and pull an empty Samyang Ramen bag off of my head as I lay at the bottom of the ditch. My head begins bleeding again and I place the orange colored bag back on my forehead. The bleeding stops. My ride, the bicycle, is totaled. I'm maybe 2km's away from base. Now my sense of smell is kicking back in....I frickin' reek. Light headed, I stand too quickly and fall back into the sludge. Even Suisun Slough wasn't this bad! I get up again and begin to claw my way up and out of the ditch. Shit. I must look like the Creature from the Black Lagoon, only I smell worse and have an orange Samyang Ramen bag stuck to my forehead. I crawl out, making it up to the main road back to camp. The ankle is sprained or fractured. I don't know. Now I'm draggin' my right foot, covered in muck, with a bright orange ramen bag on my forehead, when an intense light blinds me. Holy shit! I can't see! I start to run but suddenly I hear Korean soldiers shouting and hear the unmistakable sound of maybe a dozen or so M-16 rifles slamming their bolts forward, locking and loading 5.56mm rounds (that's bullets for you civilians) into their weapons. Holy guacamole! I now realize I have zigged and zagged too far. I've passed by my American base and have strayed into a check point in front of the R.O.K. Army compound. I get ready to run when one of the ROK soldiers yells at me...I think he says "Dang sin eun jook eul got ee dah" which means more or less...do it and you WILL die. Awww shit. I put my hands up in the air. With my hands held high in the cold night air, above the ramen bag plastered to my forehead, and slimed from head to cowboy boots, I respond with "Me Kook Hyung Byung" (American M.P.). The soldiers begin to laugh and the spotlight is off now. Once I regain my night vision I see 9 ROK soldiers around me. All with M-16's pointed at me but smiling. The light was mounted on the turrent of an M-60 tank with it's main gun pointed at me. Ohhh shit. A Korean Army Senior Sergeant comes through the crowd and tries to look me in the eye. He can't though because of the orange colored Samyang ramen bag stuck to my forehead. He looks me over, up and down, then says this in english..."You crazy G.I." They all break out in laughter. I smile sheepishly and try out a Korean phrase I learned. I ask " Yo haeng ha ruh oh syutt ssuh yo? Which means, "Are you here on holiday too"? They all bust up and escort the crazy G.I. (me) to the guardhouse where they call my unit to come out and get me. About 30 minutes later a US Army M.P. jeep from my company rolls up with it's red light on to escort me back to base. The Military Police Sergeant in the jeep knows me and is laughing his ass off as I relay my love story to him. He damn near crashes the jeep he is laughing so hard. I tell myself "Kim is worth it"! As we enter my camp's main gate we are stopped and there is my Platoon Leader, a new-in-country 2nd Lieutenant, who can only gawk at me as I salute him with the Samyang ramen bag still stuck to my head. He mumbles, "Very good. Take him to the Dispensary and have him checked out. He'll have a meeting with the First Sergeant in the morning. His pass is pulled as of right now." I salute and say"Thank you Sir" and "Welcome to Korea, Sir". The young LT stares at me in disbelief. Oh well. On to medical..... I limp/drag my way out of the jeep to the small Evac Hospital/Dispensary. The medics got the word of my somewhat "funkfied condition" and were waiting for me...outside. Outside? Thus began "Operation Market Garden Hose". (To Be Continued)