Simple America

Despite the isolation, duty at Kamaksan proved to be quite nice. We ate good. We wore what we wanted. The only time we had to wear uniforms was when the helicopters came and that was scheduled so we were always ready. I did wear a uniform when I worked. Did not want to tear up my civvies. We received three movies to watch with each helicopter visit. I don’t remember a lot of the titles. The two I enjoyed best were Halloween and The Wild Geese.

Looking out from our spot on the summit we could see a huge valley. The South Koreans had barracks in the valley between us and the Imjin river. On the northern side the North Koreans had barracks too. Curly told us that the North Koreans had artillery aimed at our site. They estimated this site would last 13 seconds if the war escalated. We were supposed to destroy the radios and then beat feet off the mountain. There were supposedly trails that led down the south side, but I never explored the mountain that much.

Without a team leader we had little to do. We inventoried our tools. Looked over the equipment we were to install. None of us knew how to read blueprints. No way we could start working. So we goofed off. Watched flicks, read, and found out that Chun-si was a fantastic cook.

The next day I needed to go on sick call. A follow up to see if the silver bullet had done its work. Curly had received a radio transmission. Our team leader would be left off in Camp Casey. So we could kill two birds with one stone. I could go to sick call and we would pick up the team leader too.

They had a jeep on the mountain. It allowed the soldiers that worked their to drive down to fetch the cook and make trips to Camp Casey in Tongduchon. The road down the mountain was nothing more than packed dirt. And it was right along the side of the mountain. No barricade between the road and a great drop.

The road leveled out as it reached a small hamlet. Farm families that would always wave when we drove by. Children peeking through windows and ducking if we waved at them. The homes were fabricated with wooden frames and looked unsturdy. Beyond those homes the drive took us past rice paddies and thinly wooded hills. Every now and then the road cut through spots that must have been blasted open for traffic.

After twisting and turning for some time the dirt track intersected an asphalt road at another hamlet. The houses here looked more study. Stone walls and tiled roofs provided these people with protection from the elements. Curly turned right and we picked up speed. We probably headed a click (km) through flat forests before we hit a large village (later I learned Chun si lived here) and a road intersection.

We took a left there and the road rode felt better maintained. Once we turned it was a straight shot to Tongduchon. We passed one checkpoint, which consisted of a policeman standing on a pedestal in a traffic circle. Once we passed him the buildings were mostly two story structures. Some served as residences, while others were commercial. The road intersected a major road with two lanes going either way. But we passed that street and entered the gate to Camp Casey.

Camp Casey was larger than Camp Humphreys. It was home to the 2nd Infantry Division. As we drove in the first thing I noticed was a large board. It listed all the clubs where GIs had caught VD. Every soldier walking out the gate would have an idea about where not to go. The next thing I noticed was Baskin Robbins. I would definitely visit there. The weather was getting to be pretty damn hot. Humid too. Ice cream might make it a little more bearable.

Curly dropped me off at the medics. He said he would meet me at the front gate at four. The soldier in the clinic was a little ticked that I had not arrived earlier. I explained it took 45 minutes to drive off the mountain. Then I had to explain why I held my medical records. Damn medics are a bunch of control junkies. Fortunately, it did not take long to get examined. I was given a clean bill of health.

It felt good to be off medical profile. Now I could drink beer and chase girls again. Problem was getting off the mountain. I walked back over to Baskings Robbins and ordered a banana split with butter pecan, chocolate mint, and baseball nut ice cream. It tasted so good. Now if I could only get a beer. But I did not like drinking in uniform. Main reason being if you screwed up, your name is stitched on your uniform where everyone can see. Plus your unit patch helped ID you quick too. I settled for a burger and a coke. Then I found the bookstore and who knows what I bought. I vaguely recall a novel titled China Man that I bought around this time. I also remember not finishing it. Story never gripped me. But I sat in the snack bar and read until the time came to get picked up.

Some of the time waiting was spent pondering who would be the team leader. I could not even begin to speculate who that would be. A horn honked while I memorized the club names on the Clap List.

Curly waved at me from the jeep. Sitting next to him was a Staff Sergeant I had seen back in Fort Huachuca. My first thought was to groan. He had alwasy walked by me as if I did not exist in Arizona. Not that I cared then, but I did not look forward to working with a stuck up son of a bitch.

Fortunately, my impression of the man proved to be totally off base. He turned out to be a funny, cheeky, but hard working supervisor. I could not have wished for better. Over the next few months I would have give this guy several chances to burn me, but he would just laugh it off for each incident. Make me feel stupid rather than any other punishment. In honor of all he did for me I will call him Sergeant Cool for this memoir.

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