My life as a soldier: “Well I’ll be damned, another day!”

If you're expecting heroism, or gallantry, forget it! It was more like sex, drugs, and rock and roll! Not everybody can be a hero! There's always room for clowns.

On August 8, 1966, my “friends and neighbors” wrote me a letter, from the local draft board, indicating they wanted me to defend them in the military service of the United States of America. That’s how I got on that plane that flew over the International dateline, at midnight, of April 16, 1967, on our way to Tokyo Japan. That’s how I lost April 17, 1967; that day in my life did not exist. I think I got a day back when I lived July 9, 1968 twice, as I crossed back over, while coming back home. It’s kind of weird when you think about that.
During a brief stay at Tachicawa Air base, in Tokyo, I had the first good meal while in the Army. It was a buffet in the Air Force cafeteria. We were eating, when an fly-boy came through with the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. I could tell she was Japanese-American. The combination was striking.
We boarded another, pretty damn scary, airplane, for the trip to Korea. When you can look out and see the airplane’s wings flap, it’s pretty unnerving. You might know I would get one of the few window on this plane! It was military transport, so comfort wasn’t any part of its service. But, it did land. We landed at Inchon Airport, Korea late, on April 18th. When the doors of the airplane lifted and I took my first step out, into the air of Korea, a sudden shock raged in my nostrils! I smelled urine, and freshly fertilized Rice paddies, mixed with something else; it was something sweet. It didn’t exactly have that outhouse smell to it so, as the days passed, the senses became use to it and, before long, it was indistinguishable.

“Well here I am,” I thought to myself, as we traipsed, slowly, down the folding ladder, with our duffel bags over the shoulder. “I am in Korea!” The first few steps I took on the ground were a weird combination of relief that I was finally here, and the finality of being here. My first plane flights were over; I was in one piece, and there was no going back. We were met, cordially, and shown to our reception center. The greeting surprised me for some reason. Previously, this center was called the detention center; now it was a reception station; that was almost courteous! There were no screaming Drill Instructors, no name calling, or harassment of any kind, no herding us like cattle onto the butcher block; it was like, suddenly, we were considered human beings!
We got to a reception station and were issued a pillow, and a sleeping bag full of Crabs! Yes– those Crabs! The very first barracks-mates I got to know in Korea, were the Crabs I got from my sleeping bag. I want you to imagine how, absolutely, frightening it is to be invaded by these minute little beasts! And, in an area that every man is sworn to protect against any and all ill-mannered intrusions.
Good God, I had the Crabs! You know how they got their name don’t you? Yes, that’s right! They look like miniature Crabs, right down to the tormenting pinchers they have! You know it’s kind of hard to sleep when little animals are digging at your skin constantly! And they’re partying right on top of your family stuff! I didn’t realize that I could have gone to headquarters company, and gotten that taken care of, so I suffered through it. When I got to my unit, I would check it out. We were jeeped to C Company, 1st & 17th Infantry, 7th Army, where they issued me a can of Crab powder! Oh, the inhumanity! I doused those little bastards to their deaths. It was then that I discovered Crabs were a pretty common experience in Korea! We hauled a bunk down to the barracks I was to live in for the next thirteen months.

The only place for my bunk at that time, was right next to a stacked bunk. My first night in my new unit was very quiet, until around 2 am. I heard this strange sound. People were throwing this body on the top bunk next to me. I heard them say something like: “That’s four times this week; fuckin’ Beardon’s gonna end up a KIA (killed in action). It must have been 2:30 or 3:00, when Billy Beardon rolled over on his bunk, and came flopping down on top of me.
Thank God, “Billy” Beardon only weighed 120 pounds. Otherwise, when he fell on top of me from his upper bunk, on my first night at my unit, in Korea, he may have done me serious damage. This was my first introduction to a little guy who, among many others, made my stay in Korea much easier. When I think back on my service, the constant humor comes to mind more than anything else. Granted, the Viet Nam conflict was a raging, death-filled, excursion into political, and military, folly. I felt compassion for all the guys who suffered in that quagmire, but, this was peacetime in Korea. There wasn’t much shooting anymore.
Two guys rushed over to lift Beardon’s deadened body off of me. They hustled me to the top bunk and left Beardon lay in a stupor, on my bunk.

April 21, 1967–Kamp Kaiser, Korea.
The next day I was shining my boots, when Beardon came up and apologized for falling on top of me the night before.
“Man, I got drunker ‘n hell last night!” he said.
“Had fun last night huh?” I kept my eyes on the boots.
“O hell yeah!” Beardon got excited, “wait til you go to the Vill, man. It’s great. Anybody can get fucked down in the Vill!”
“Yeah,” another guy yelled, “even Beardon can get laid!” laughter dressed the moment.
A Korean man came up to me. He got into a crouch as he talked.
“I am Kim,” he said. “I will be your house boy, fo five dollars a month. I shine your shoes, laundry, and straighten up your area.” I looked around the barracks. George Bonebrake nodded at me to go ahead and do it.
“Kim’s the best,” he said. I gave him five dollars and my boots. He smiled. Kim An Shu was to become a very good friend of mine.
When my two weeks restriction was over, I dressed up for my first trip to the Vill (Unchonni, the village). As we walked down to the village, I was extremely excited. Beardon, George Bonebrake, Bob Dare, and I went to the village that night.
They showed me to “our club”, the Georgie Club. It seemed every company had there own club. If a stranger strayed into another unit’s club, they were watched closely, and were made to feel very uncomfortable. This was especially true if they took one of there club’s girl to her Hooch! We got to the Georgie Club at about 7:00 pm. I was sitting at the bar, when a girl came up to me.
“You buy me OB?” she asked.
“Pardon me?” I was confused. The bartender, a guy named Charlie, pointed to the label on the beer bottle. It said “OB” (Oriental beer).
“Sure, I’ll buy you a beer. I’ll have one too,” I smiled at her. I put a 100 won bill on the bar (it was worth about $1.36). I told him to keep it.
“My name is Julie,” she said. “What your name?”
“Julie,” I said, “that’s an American name.” I quizzed her.
“We take American girl name to make soldier feel at home,” she answered. I mulled that over; there was no way I was ever going to feel at home. That feeling would soon change. She was a pretty girl though, with a great smile. I was always attracted by Oriental girls. I think it was their eyes, and skin color. This one’s eyes were not extremely narrow, so she looked very good from a profile. Her nose was perfect, with a sharper tip than most of these girls. I suspected she was mixed, which was fine with me. She seemed very intelligent, although her talk eliminated certain words.
“You are new soldier. You just get here?” she asked. She had a softened voice, that was sultry.
“Yeah I’ve been here for three weeks,” I answered.
“We finish drink, you want to see my hooch?” I, immediately, became erect! This was so cool, having the girl take the aggressive lead. There was no hustle to it. Man, I was going to like this. We walked a very narrow path the snaked back into the edge of the village. She took my hand and led me into a square with little, thatched roof apartments. At the center of the square was a water pump. We went into her room. It was warm and softly lit. I saw, almost immediately, her book shelf. I pulled our “The Good Earth”, by Pearl Buck. I looked at her.
“You read a lot?” I asked her.
“I read as much as I can to learn your ways,” I was already removing her dress. “I love Hemingway, and John Steinbeck.” This was a girl after my own heart. She came to me in her panties. She undid the buttons of my shirt. I reached up to help her; she stopped me.
“No,” she said softly, “I will do everything. You lay down.” I obeyed her, reverently. She pulled my shorts off. It didn’t care who, or what, she was; I was ready to fuck! I didn’t want to make love; I wanted to fuck! She climbed on top of me and began stroking me, rhythmically. I was trying to think about something else because I was dangerously ready to blow my cookies right then, and there!
“Stainbeck, Stenbeck,” I kept thinking to myself. She likes good reading; she’s intelligent; she’s well-read; she’s a HELL OF A FUCK!” Boom I blew my rocks all over her insides. “Damn it!” I thought, “that sure didn’t do anything for her!” She smiled at me and put her head on my shoulder.
“Your first time in a while?” she asked.
“God, it’s been months!” I answered. “I can’t tell you how good it feels.” she got up and grabbed a small book from the shelf. In the low, warm light, I saw the shape of her nakedness. She had a very trimmed body with terrific curves. Her breasts weren’t big, but had a firm handful look. Actually, she had a great looking body. I lay there, openly naked, as she came back with the book. It felt to comfortable that I didn’t care that I had nothing on; she made me feel that way.
“Selected poems” the book was entitled.
“You read to me, poems?” I took the book. I chose Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s “A psalm of life”.
“Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime
And departing, leave behind us
Footprints in the sands of time.”

I attempted to read it as dramatically as I could. She was impressed with me reading, to hear the words so clearly.
“I cannot speak like American,” she touched my chest. “You read so well.” she didn’t realize that I had flunked English three times in high school. But her hand on my chest stirred up my arousal. She slid her hand down to my penis. It was, raging and hard; that boy wanted inside of her again! We made love this time. I really felt connected. I had become aware of the dangers that others had fallen into. Sometimes guys get involved because they haven’t had sex for so long that they fall for these girls, and want to take them hone with them. There was a huge history in the failure of these relationships. I could see how guys could get hooked on the girls. I was hooked tonight. This girl really had me attracted.

End of part 1
Part 2: Goin’ to Unchonni-goin’ to get those VD blues.

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