"Tradition"
By Doug Alward
alward@alltel.net
It had been a grueling 17 hours since the MAC chartered Boeing 727 had departed from Travis Air Force Base in central California. During that time, the soldiers, sailors and airmen who were fit into every available seat were afforded only brief relaxation while on the ground at a refueling location at the Honolulu International Airport and at a drop-off point in Yokota, Japan. Packed "elbow-to-elbow" and "ass-hole-to-ass-hole", the wary lot of military personnel outfitted in their dress Class A uniforms were prepared for anything other than the cramped quarters endured while crossing the mighty Pacific ocean.
Now the doors were opened for final debarking and as so an instantaneous, nauseous odor filled the plane compounded by the cloud of visible humidity. Osan Air Force Base was surrounded by Korean farm communities. The late day heat and sun merely provided cause for the human waste fertilizers to radiate the evidence of their decomposing existence. Nature's processes not to be outdone, the radiance of garlic served as the principle introduction to the native Korean population who worked as assistants to direct the arriving "Nug's". Welcome to the Land of the Morning Calm!
The entire manifest of travelers were simultaneously channeled into a single large auditorium style building. The small number of Navy and Air Force personnel were collectively gathered and escorted out of the building for assignment leaving solely those dressed in green to await their instructions for processing. Word was passed that the fate of the remaining group was to be cattle-car'd to a holding battalion in Seoul where the requirements of the command Eighth Army would determine the destination of their twelve month, hardship tour assignments. Abruptly, the senior enlisted member of the processing staff announced three names. "Warren, Grise, Toronto. Forward with all of your gear and be recognized".
When the last of the three summoned personnel arrived, they were in mass delegated to an awaiting Spec-4 who supervised their travel to a parked ¾ ton utility vehicle which would serve as the mechanism of transportation for the short trip to USASAFSK; United States Army Security Agency Field Station Korea. Stowing their gear and bodies into the canvas covered rear area of the truck, they quickly took positions on the fold down wooden bench seats and discovered the welcoming Styrofoam container heaping of ice and 1-litre bottles of Korean brewed OB beer. Bouncing down the dirt roads of Kyonggi province, dress jackets removed, ties undone, and rapidly splashing amounts of OB equal to that consumed, they began to accept the premise that perhaps the unending stories of life and lust conveyed over the course of the foregoing 19 months of training were possibly true.
Arriving shortly after dusk had settled, the 98G's were shown to the office of the 332nd ASA Company and signed into country. Immediate instructions were issued to stow their gear into the assigned 2 man per room living quarters and to report back to the company office within a period of thirty minutes dressed in civilian attire. Upon return the personnel were merely issued meal cards and turned over to another company member who proceeded to hurriedly provide details as to the without delay indoctrination which they were to about receive. Instructions were delivered to accompany this individual to an awaiting taxi which would provide for a means to exit Camp Humphreys without the rigors of identification and pass authorization normally endured when passing through the main gates on foot. Sure to form, the attending KATUSA MP at the main gate never bothered to closely examine the presented meal cards for validation of an off-post pass authorization and the cab expeditiously departed the main gate area and into the village of Anchong-Ni; a.k.a. "The Ville".
Two blocks later the Korean driver was instructed to make a left turn and to stop, where the 740 Won cab fee was paid and the linguists departed without haste into several winding alleys. The alleys were barely wide enough for two bodies to pass. Eight foot tall cement covered walls, topped with wire and broken glass embedded into the concrete guided the travelers down dirt paths which yielded the feeling of a lost rodent, blind with the single ambition of finding the outlet of this maze. The walls provided a surrounding protection, with a single steel entrance gate, to Korean homes. Slate covered houses with an oversized open compound area were the norm. Obviously many of these confines were being utilized by American armed forces personnel as corroborated by the frequent shouting heard; one side of the debate in English and the other side in Korean.
In short time the dark confined passageways opened into a general area pronounced by blaring music and neon emitting signs broadcasting the presence of the self appointed ASA home club known as "Duffy's". The senior accompanying company member lead the way through the double entrance doors into an arena of inebriated soldiers together with bar girls who easily outnumbered the off-duty "Chair Borne Rangers" by a ratio of 2:1. This was the off-duty home of the "ditty boppers", voice intercept operators, and analysts who without question had pledge their allegiance as "Lightning Fast Chicken Fuckers"!
The instructions were clear and sparse; "Dollars are just as acceptable as Korean Won, beers are US$ 0.85, girls no more than US$ 5.00, and you Nug's are to be back at the company office to meet with the First Sergeant and Company Commander by 09:00 hours the next morning. Welcome and you're on your own". With that, their sole source of directions and indoctrination disappeared into the throng and the boys were timorously on their own. Timorous for a full 200 milliseconds before scantly clad; yet, exuberantly overt bar girls were on each arm directing the individual "Nug's" into separate remote booths for the beginning of the welcoming celebrations.
Time passed very quickly as copious amounts of alcohol were added to that already consumed during the transport from Osan before PFC-3 Warren awoke in a small, not more than 8 foot square room. Present were only a bed and a small dresser placed on the cheap linoleum covered dirt floor, and the nude youthful local who was obviously the source of locating this crib. Recalling the requirement to be present for the meeting with First Sergeant and Company Commander, Warren hastily gathered his belongings, cognizant of the alarming realization that he had no real handle as to the route necessary to make the return journey back to the Field Station area. Now on his own, he left the crib and hurriedly traveled into the maze of alleys, receiving the first informal realization that the many months of language training at the Defense Language Institute Presideo of Monterey were now his sole struggling method for navigation to exit this situation.
Eventually the main road leading to the entrance into Camp Humphreys was located and the journey was now in hand. It would not be until several days after this experience before the Nug's would clearly understand the long standing tradition of the first night in country introduction to the "Ville". For two days hence, PFC-3 Warren was introduced to the off-the-record log of the 98G's keep in the secure intercept work area of the Operations Center and maintained over countless years by those whose prior destiny had brought them to similar fate. At that exact moment he would again relive that first night and become prepared for what truly was to come during this assignment. All of this was evidenced by a simple poem scribed by an unacknowledged author.
A quiet town, a little ville
98G's off-duty and searching for a thrill
Serving their country, far from home
Each now with a purpose, a desire to hear his woman groan
The party begins at the trick's shared crib
No lifers permitted and with that, no reason to ad lib
OB, SoJu, Mak-a-Li and grass
Attitudes are adjusting as the time begins to pass
Some are soon drunk, others are quite stoned
But all come to agreement, the trip to the club can no longer be postponed
"B" Trick's cleaned up for no man can appear scruffy
It's to the ASA off-post home ….. a club with the name "Duffy'
Soon they are all engrossed with the music, alcohol and whores
To hell with the Trick,
it's now individual men with a babe headed towards the doors
Her crib is reached and $5.00 you pass
"Off with your clothes, now show me your young ass!"
You hussle and bussle and do your own thing
Convincing yourself, "She thinks I'm a King!"
A moan and a flitter, she says with a grin
"Hey Joe, about when you begin?"
Knowing you're drunk, God what a high!
You suddenly detect you've been humping her thigh
Onward you plow when she asks with a sigh
"You finished yet, you come G.I.?"
So over you roll, drunk and soon asleep
'Til noon the next day when suddenly from the bed you do leap
Horny again, your feet hit the straw floor mat
As your eyes view the whore and you mutter,
"Oh shit, did I just fuck that?"