"Does anyone here want to go with them?" he asked.

Patty almost raised his hand, but the thought of volunteering scared him. His father had taught him never to volunteer for anything.

"Good because those men are being diverted to Vietnam. Now put all your gear to your right and drop your drawers."

Patty looked around and saw two teams of medics with push carts. They started from the front and the rear.

"What are they doing?" he asked the man next to him.

The man looked at him. He was a wiry old platoon sergeant. He just looked at Patty like he was a leper and grunted.

"GG shots." he replied.

"What are GG shots?" Patty asked.

"Gamma Globin. Stops you from getting hepatitis"

"Are they painful?"

"Only for punks." he said.

The medics were getting closer. They were administering the shots to the line of men directly in front of Patty. The man in front of patty bent over to yet his shot. Patty war, amazed at the size of the needle.

"HOLY CRAP!" the man grunted.

Now Patty was really nervous. The Platoon Sergeant next to him laughed, and turned to another NCO on the other side of him.

"What a faggot" he said. 'Fuckin' punk. That's all we got in the Army now, punks, faggots, and hippies." The other NCO laughed.

The medic heard this and looked over towards him.

"Who said that'" he asked angrily.

"I did." said the Platoon Sergeant.

"With all respect to your rank sergeant, I'll have to ask you to please be quiet in this formation." he said sternly.

"O.K. Boy." said the Platoon Sergeant.

The medic scowled. He was black.

As the medical team went down the line other men moaned and screamed as the GG shots were administered. Each time it happened it prompted the Platoon Sergeant to utter another mindless epithet such as pussy, queer, asshole and such. Patty decided that the man had a hard-on for the whole human race.

Now the medics were starting up the line Patty was on. Sooner than he wanted they were next to him getting ready to do the old platoon sergeant.

"Bend over and try to relax your cheeks sarge." said the medic. "It'll be worse if you tense up."

"Just shut up and do it boy. I ain't scared of no goddamn shot."

The medic just shrugged his shoulders and stuck the needle in. Patty couldn't tear his eyes away. The medic was pushing on the plunger like he was trying to shoot molasses out the end. The Platoon Sergeant started to perspire. His eyes were screwed shut. The medic was steadily pushing at the plunger, it seemed like a full minute had gone by and the Platoon Sergeant dropped to one knee.

"Oh Sweet Jesus!" he screamed. (His scream had definitely been the loudest so far.) Patty almost pissed himself. It seemed like another sixty seconds went by and that removed the needle. Guys were snickering up and down the line.

"O.K. Sarge, all over, you can pull up you pants now."

Patty looked at the man, tears were streaming out of his eyes. Patty was horrified. Now they were standing behind him.

"Relax your cheeks specialist." Said the medic,

Patty willed his cheeks to relax and waited. A sharp pinch was all he felt. After a minute or so the needle was removed. He hardly felt a thing. In fact all he felt was the pinch of the needle entering his skin.

"0.K, man, you can pull 'em up." The medic said.

"That's it?" he asked.

"That's it."

"That wasn't so bad."

The medic put his mouth up to Patty's ear.

"That's because the old cocksucker next to you got your shot and his. That'll teach the asshole. But don't worry, the shit don't work anyway."

Patty broke out laughing. The Platoon Sergeant next to him rubbing his ass shot him a dirty look.

"Welcome to Korea." The medic said.

"What the hell stinks so bad?" he asked the man walking next to him.

"Beats me." replied the man with a shrug.

"Smells like shit." someone behind him said.

"Smells worse'n shit." said another.

"It always smells like this, but don't worry, after a couple of hours your nose kind of dies and you don't smell it anymore. You kinda get used to it." Said the driver who was leading them to the bus. "It's the Kimchee, the whole country smells like fuckin Kimchee."

"What the fuck is kimchee'" someone asked.

"Shit the zips eat. Cabbage and fish heads they bury in the ground. After about six months they dig it up and eat it. If you think it stinks hanging in the air, wait until you smell their breath. It's enough to gag a maggot." he said.

"Goddamn", said one of the men, "I ain't lettin none of 'em around me. This smell is makin me sick."

"You'll let em near you newbee, that is if you want to get laid. After a few drinks, you won't care what they smell like. Some of these babes can look pretty good, and believe me, all of em can be had." The driver said knowingly.

They boarded the bus and headed out for the repo depo. The bus turned out onto a highway that reminded Patty of the Long Island Expressway. He was surprised to see a highway so big.

"At least they have nice roads." He said to the driver.

The driver laughed.

"Shit", he said, "this is, the only paved road they got in this country, It's called the Seoul-Pusan Highway. Stretches from north to south. They built it for the military. See how wide it is in places?"

Patty looked. Every so often the road would widen from four lanes to six, with extra lanes at the shoulders.

"Yeah, How come it does that?"

" Because, if they have a war, this road can become an airport. The places where it gets wide become landing strips. They got concrete bunkers for anti-aircraft guns all around 'em.

Patty saw that the driver was right. He could see three bunkers just ahead.

"Kinda scary." he said.

"You'll get used to it." said the driver.

Patty didn't think that he would ever get used to it.

The bus was extremely quiet as they traveled the highway. Most of the men were staring out of the windows, getting their first real impression of the land they would call home for the next thirteen months. Patty was mesmerized. It was October. The rice paddies on both sides of the road were for the most part cut. A few were being harvested. He was amazed at the rough wood carts attached to oxen. To Patty, who was not one of the world's great travelers, it looked like a scene straight out of National Geographic. The small villages they passed amazed him. The huts seemed made out of mud, and the roofs were grass. They seemed out of place here. He figured on the tile roofing he had seen in pictures. These seemed to be made of rice stalks. He figured this out because the farmers were cutting down the rice and tying them off in bundles. To him it looked more like what he imagined Africa would look like.

He could see no telephone poles, no T.V. antennas. He poked the driver on the shoulder.

"How do they get electricity to the villages?" he asked.

"Lightning." The driver replied.

Some of the guys an the bus snickered.

"You can be a real wise ass." said Fallica.

"Your all ass." said the driver.

More snickering.

The bus pulled off the main highway and headed down a dirt road. The men inside cursed as the bus lurched and rolled. Luggage fell from the overhead racks. They pulled up to a gate. Over the entrance was a sign. ASCOM-GATEWAY TO KOREA. Underneath in smaller letters: DRIVE SAFELY AND ROTATE. Patty wondered what the hell that meant.

Some G.I.s near the entrance started whistling and shouting to the bus. Patty couldn't make out what they were saying except for a few words. Some were making a gesture with their thumb and index finger. Patty knew what that stood for. It meant short. That was one of the words Patty could make out.

Once inside the gates, Patty could get a good look at the guys inside. He could tell which men were here for awhile, and which were new like himself. The new guys were wearing dark green wrinkled fatigues and had short hair. The others had long longer shaggier hair and fatigues that were almost gray. They were creased and starched though. In fact they looked better than the ones he himself had.

Patty knew he looked bad. Sorry was the word most G.I.'s used. He had his khaki uniform on. It had been starched and pressed when he put it on at Ft. Lewis, but after a ten hour flight to Japan, and another two hours to Korea, it looked like hell. It was wrinkled and he had large sweat rings under his arms. He couldn't wait to get out of them.

The bus lurched to a stop in front of a building with a sign out in front that read: 121st Replacement Station. The driver told everyone to get out and make a formation in front of the sign. They got out and did what they were told to do.

It wasn't too long before a small Staff Sergeant came out with a clip board. He told them that they were there to be processed and assigned units. Some of the men had direct assignments and they would be the first to be processed. The stay at ASCOM would be anywhere from one to three days except for the guys going to the 2nd Infantry Division up north. The Division only came once a week on Monday to pick up their replacements, He said that the staff at the replacement station would try to make their stay as pleasant as possible as long as the men obeyed THE RULES. He then told them what THE RULES were:

1. Between the hours of 0800 to 1800 they were restricted to the Company area. They were to listen for their names being called on the loudspeaker.

2. They were restricted to the confines of the compound at all other times.

3. They were not allowed to use any American currency. All currency would be exchanged for military payment certificates known as MPC.

4. No Korean Nationals were allowed in the Company area, especially females.

Patty thought that the formation was pleasant enough. He was glad to have a direct assignment. He didn't want to stay in this place for three days. He also noticed that threats weren't made like they did at Ft. Lewis. In fact, the Sergeant had a real laid-back attitude. Grabbing his duffel-bag Patty made toward the barracks with the others.

The new men looked at each other, almost immediately they were descended on by beseeching salesmen.

"Hey newbee, you buy bible for you Mommy? You Mommy like. Gold leaf trim. Numbah one bible, O.K.? " one said.

"You need Kimchee jacket. Numbah one Kimchee jacket. Hometown printed on jacket. Nice. You buy girlfriend. You pick dragon on sleeve O.K.?" Another wailed in Patty's face.

He almost gagged as the man blew his breath in Patty's face. This was his first up close exposure to dreaded the Kimchee breath. If was worse than he expected. Patty thought for sure that if this guy was examined by a doctor, he would be told he was rotting from the inside out. He felt lightheaded and faint, then he realized he was holding his breath. He broke from the guys imploring pitch and headed to an empty bunk against the wall.

The level of activity was unreal. Patty was tired from the travel, and now with the noise coming from the barracks he had a pounding headache. He wished that he could just get out into same fresh air. The whole Quonset hut reeked of kimchee breath. A space heater that looked like a garbage can burned cherry red in the center. Between the oppressing heat the noise, and the smell he thought he was dying. At that particular moment he was also homesick. He crawled up on the bunk and buried his face in the pillow. Before he lapsed into oblivion his mind kept repeating one thought.

"A zoo!, I got sent to a fuckin' zoo! Help me God, they sent me to a fucking zoo."

A few hours later Patty was awakened by a hand shaking his shoulder. He looked up to see a familiar face peering down at him. It was Smokey Joe from Ft. Lewis.

"You know Fallica, I been thinking" he said, "I been thinkin' that they sent us to a fuckin' zoo".

Patty cracked up. He was really glad to see Joe' ugly face. He glanced around the barracks and saw it was empty. Empty and quiet. He looked back again at Joe.

"When did you get here?" he asked, and before Joe could reply he asked again, 'What time is it'"'

"It's 6 O'clock, messhall's closed. I got here this morning. Already got my orders. I'm going to a place called Camp Humphreys, but they call it K-6. All these places got two names.

Patty raised himself on his elbow and tried to shake the drowsiness out of his head. He rubbed his ryes.

"Messhall's closed? Did you eat?"

"No, not yet. They got a club here. We can get something' there. You got any civvies? " Joe asked.

"Yeah, let me go take a leak, where's the latrine?"

"It's about four or five barracks down. You got to piss?"

"Yeah." Patty said. "What do you care."

"The only reason I asked was because around here, they all just piss out the back door. The whole place smells like piss."

Patty's eyes widened.

"Jeez", he said, "That's disgusting"

"Whole place is disgusting. These guys act like animals. One guy told me they got 3,000 whores in the village here."

Patty's eyes lit up.

"That's disgusting!" he said again.

"You know what's more disgusting than that?" He asked.

"No." Patty said with a grin "What?"

"They'll take you home and fuck you for five dollars. Can you handle that?"

"I guess I'll have to." he laughed.

"Yeah, I guess I can too." Joe laughed.

Patty went out the back door and took a leak. Joe was right. The place smelled like piss. He went back in and opened his duffel, rummaged around and came up with a pair of jeans and a shirt. He put them on. He had no civilian shoes so he put on his low quarters. He realized he had no jacket. The weather in Korea in early October was the same as in New York. Both areas shared the 32nd parallel. Joe said he could borrow a sweatshirt he had. They walked over to Joe's barracks and Joe handed him an old gray sweatshirt. In no time they were on the company street heading for the main post.

"Too bad you couldn't bring that pot." Patty said.

"Who said I couldn't bring that pot?" Joe asked.

"I don't believe it. You don't give a shit do you?" Patty meant it.

"Hell no, but thanks for askin'." And Joe proceeded to pull out the baggie. "You roll it, you do it better than' me." Finding a place to smoke was easy. This side of the post was deserted. A few minutes later they both had a good buzz on. They walked on little while in silence. Patty was thinking about how, just last night, he and Smokey had been doing the very same thing in Ft. Lewis, USA. It seemed like weeks ago. So much had happened in the twenty-four hours since. It seemed that Ft. Lewis, in fact the whole United States was almost unreal. It was weird. Reality for Patty was Korea. This was the here and now.

"Hey Smokey." Patty broke their silent thoughts.

"What? "

"You know what the guys here call home?"

"Yeah, The World." He said.

"I kinda think I know why.

"Yeah, me too, but tell me what you think." Smokey replied.

Patty took a deep breath. It was hard for him to put his feelings into words being tired and stoned, but he felt is was important to do so.

"I think it's because this place is so weird. I mean it's so different. The guys who have been here awhile are kind of strange, like they don't give a shit about nothin. You know?"

Smokey grunted in acknowledgment. Patty went on.

"And there's no regular cars, just Army trucks and Taxi cabs. And there's no American women, no American kids, just zips. This country has dirt roads and shacks. All the writing on the buildings is in Korean. I mean even their letters are different, you can't even guess what they say." Patty was on a roll. Smokey agreed again with a grunt.

"I mean even the Army is different here. They don't seem to care what we do. Usually they threaten you and give you a big list of rules and stuff. Here they don't seem to care much. Have you thought about it?" He asked.

"Yeah, I guess I have. But you see Patty, I been through it before. I was in Thailand remember? It's different in Asia. Nobody brings the Old Lady and kids with 'em. It's a hardship tour, like 'Nam, except you don't have people shooting at you everyday, but still there is this possibility that maybe, just maybe, somebody will. Did you know that the guys in the Second Division north of the Imjin River get combat pay? Did you know that there are a million zillion North Koreans 50 miles from here that would like nothin' better than to blow Mrs. Fallica's little boy Patty to smitherens? Ever think about it?" He asked.

"No', Patty answered, 'I never did. " He looked down as he walked.

"Maybe that's why the Army is a little different here. Maybe that's one reason nobody sweats the small shit like pissin' out the back door. Most of these guys aren't like me and you. A lot of 'em are married with kids and stuff. A lot of 'em are drafted and don't want to be in the Army in the first place, and they're more than just a little pissed off to be here. Can you dig it?"

"Yeah' Patty said, 'I can dig it."

"Well consider it dug." Said Smokey

They passed the P.X. and Movie Theatre. Next to the theatre was a small white building with a sign Army and AirForce Exchange Service (ACIFES) Bath House. Under the heading it provided a list of services. One of them caught Fallica's eye. Massage: $5.50. He jabbed Smokey and jerked his head in the direction of the sign.

"Do you see what I see?" He asked.

"Yeah, So what'"

"Wanna get a massage?"

"Do you?"

"I want to get more than a massage." Fallica said. "Think they give anything else? "

"Depends on the girl. The P.X, doesn't run a whorehouse, but maybe you can get a little extra stuff that isn't on the price sheet if you play your cards right. These slope girls will do almost anything for a buck." Smokey said.

"You got any money?" Fallica asked. He had forgotten to exchange his money for MPG.

"Yeah, I got some. I'll lend you ten but you gotta pay me back." He said.

Fallica looked hurt.

"Do I look like a thief?"

"Yeah Fallica, You look like a thief." Smokey laughed, and they walked inside.

He slowly raised his head from the pillow. It was still early. Guys were waking around in towels and underwear. It smelled funny. It still smelled like that kimchee stuff. God he thought, I'll never get used to that puke-smelling shit.

He slowly swung his legs over the bunk and stood up. His eyes hurt from the lights and made him squint. He ran his hand through his hair and tried to get his thoughts together.

"God, you look terrible in the morning."

Smokey was standing in front of him looking like he had just his best nights sleep.

"I feel terrible." Fallica said.

"Get yourself a shower and meet me in the messhall. You'll feel better in a while."

Fallica nodded and turned toward his locker to get his shower things. He scratched his head again and turned back to Smokey.

"By the way, What happened last night?"

Smokey laughed.

"I'11 tell you all about it over breakfast, hurry up and get dressed, we got a long day.

Half an hour later Patrick was sitting down over eggs he didn't want to eat. He was remembering what had happened in the massage parlor. The girl he got was about thirty-five years old and not the prettiest thing he had ever seen. The first thing he did was take a shower. He was embarrassed because the girl just stood there while he was naked. Then she made him get into a steam box. It had felt nice at first but after awhile it got so hot in there that he thought he was going to die. The next part was the best part, but even just thinking about it made him flush with embarrassment.

The girl had put him on a padded table with just a small towel over his ass. She proceeded to beat the living shit out of his back with her hands. It hurt like hell at first but after awhile it was relaxing and he almost fell asleep to her rhythmic ministrations.

He woke up when she started down his legs. She seemed to get into every muscle he had. God it felt good. Patrick thought about her hands as they worked up his legs toward his ass. He didn't really think that she would massage that too but he was wrong. That's when the hard-on started. He didn't think too much about it until she asked him to turn over. God he felt like he was back in ninth grade and the teacher asked him to stand up in class.

She was so straightfoward about it. She smacked it lightly and giggled. She said it looked like his "Little Man" was angry or some stupid shit like that. Then she forgot it was, there and started on his chest and shoulders. That felt great and even Patty forgot about the hard-on.

He forgot about the hard-on until she started on his upper thighs. She had hands that made Patty think she was the most desirable girl this side of Yokohama. God how he wanted that girl! Lust seized his heart like a steel vise. He was totally in it's grips. She worked her way up higher towards his crotch, her flying fingers occasionally brushing he straining pecker that had made the towel look like a pup tent. He was just ready to grab her hand and put it inside the tent when it happened. He just couldn't help it. God the embarrassment? She couldn't help seeing his body go into spasms. She just stopped and stared.

When Patty was normal he wanted to crawl under the table. He couldn't believe that it happened. He wanted to kill his "Little Man" that was now retreating under a wet towel.

She laughed so hard he felt like killing her. She saw his look and stopped. She got a Kleenex and gave it to him. "Cherry Boy" was what she called him after that. All he wanted to do was get the hell out of there. The worst part was sitting in the lobby waiting for Smokey to get done. She kept talking in Korean to her co-workers who kept giggling and looking over at him.

" Why are you so quiet this morning. This is the first time I've ever seen you shut up for any length of time. Anything wrong?" Smokey asked.

"No, I just got a bad hangover that's all." Fallica replied dejectedly.

"Well I hope that's all that's the matter. I'm glad your not thinking about how you fucked up with that girl.

"What are you talking about!" Fallica asked startled out of his reverie. 'Just what the hell do you mean by that!"

"Don't get your balls in an uproar." Smokey said. "You know, the girl in the massage parlor.

Fallica looked around to see if anyone were listening.

"How the hell did you find out about that?" he said softly so no one could hear. He was looking down at his plate.

"The guys were talking about it in the barracks this morning. The girl's boyfriend is the First Sergeant." Smokey said.

"Oh God!" Fallica said. "I'm not in this country a whole day and I'm already the fucking asshole. Oh shit, I'm ruined." His head was very close to the plate.

"You're an asshole if you believe that kid."

Smokey was looking at him with a small smile at the corners of his mouth.

"I heard all about it after you got drunk. I told you then and I'll tell you now, it's nothing to be ashamed of. You're thirteen thousand miles away from home. Halfway around the world. Nobody cares what you do over here. Anyway, It could of happened to anybody."

"Yeah, but it happened to me." Said Fallica dejectedly.

"Well you'll learn, nobody gives a shit around here, except when you're late for a formation which we are. Let's go.

A short time later they found themselves in formation. The company clerk read out their names. Patrick was scheduled for his processing at 10:20. Smokey was down for 09:00. It didn't take long. Patrick didn't even have time to be bored when his time rolled around. He walked into the Quonset hut and was directed to a desk where a young buck sergeant was shuffling through records.

"You Fallica?" He asked.

"Yes Sergeant." He answered.

"You're a 16C?"

"Yep. "

"We're short 16C's. Those missile sites are critical assignments. Don't even think of trying to get anyplace else. We got two Batteries that are really under strength, Charlie Battery and Foxtrot. Charlie's in the boondocks. Even the Koreans don't like it there. It's near a place called Sosan. The Pits. Foxtrot is next to Inchon about 20 clicks south of Seoul. About 10 clicks from here. Nice place Foxtrot. They got a good bunch of guys there. Bet you twenty dollars you go to Foxtrot."

"I don't gamble." Fallica stated.

"Too bad." said the clerk. "Since I don't have a bet to win I guess there's no point in fixing things up. God but Charlies a miserable place"

The light bulb went on in Fallica's head.

"You know Sarge," he said, 'Like I was saying, I don't gamble, but only a fool would turn down a chance to bet on a sure thing. I just know I'm going to Charlie Battery, because I have such rotten luck. I'm gonna take my chances on that rotten luck and bet you twenty dollars that I go to Charlie Battery"

The clerk stopped typing and looked up and smiled. He scratched his head and squinted at the papers in front of him.

"Too bad" he said. "You do have rotten luck." he said flatly.

Patty Fallica squirmed in his seat.

" Listen son, no matter where you think you're going, The United States Army puts you where it needs you. Sorry."

Patty's heart sank. He thought that this guy was an ass for playing around with him. Clerk'n son of a bitch he thought. Clerks were weird anyway.

"You lose kid. The Army says Foxtrot. Pay me." And with that the clerk smiled and held out his hand.

Patty put two ten dollar greenbacks in his hand.

"That was the best bet you ever lost" the clerk said as he quickly shoved the money in his fatigue pocket, "You got to report to K-6 First. That's Battalion Headquarters. If they try to divert you to another Battery tell them you got a direct assignment. The bus for K-6 leaves at 13:30 in front of the barracks, be on it." He shoved a set of orders at Fallica and turned back to his typewriter.

Patty didn't move. The clerk turned around and looked at him.

"Any questions?"

"Yeah, I got a million of them but I don't think you have the time to answer them all."

"Got that right. Just remember, you got a good assignment."

"I got a good assignment"

The guys on the bus exchanged conversation and seemed pretty excited, but Patty felt a little out of place. Smokey wasn't around and for the first time since leaving home he felt a little apprehensive. "Nervous in the service" as his drill sergeant used to say. He felt suddenly alone and depressed. He didn't want to be here anymore. He wanted to be in New York with his slut of a girlfriend. In his mind's eye she was no longer a slut. Traveling 13,000 miles had transformed her into a sweet innocent girl who waited for him to return home. He just knew that she spent hours staring at his picture and missing him. In reality she picked up a guy at a party the night he left. The guy's name was Jocko and he was a swarthy Italian fellow who's idea of a good time was amphetamines and oral sex, with him on the receiving end. Patty had no idea that his sweet thing thought that Jocko was the greatest thing since the pill.

The bus was now traveling through a large town. Every other place of business along the road was a bar. He saw that the signs were in English. He saw The 7-Club, The Top-Hat, Players Club, and of course the famous Kit-Kat. He saw lots of G.I.s in civilian clothes on the street heading in and out of the bars. He saw women dressed in mini-skirts and boots. Patty started to cheer up immediately. This place didn't look too bad.

The Gate to K-6 was the standard archway with "CAMP HUMPHREYS" lettered across it with the slogan "Drive Safely and Rotate" underneath. Rotate on this thought Patty.

The base was clean and American looking. They traveled for perhaps two miles and came to a stop in front of a dilapidated Quonset hut. The sign in front said "4th Battalion (HERC) 44th Air Defense Artillery." Patty got up, grabbed his duffel bag and got off the bus. The bus took off down the road with the other guys and he was left alone in front of the building. He went in.

A fat sergeant sat behind a desk reading Penthouse. He briefly looked up when Patty came in and went back to the magazine. Patty waited uncomfortable shifting back and forth on his feet. Eventually the fat sergeant put down the Penthouse and asked him what he wanted. Patty told him he was new to the battalion. The sergeant told him that they didn't process after 14:00 and that he should go to the transit barracks around the corner- and to report back in the morning. Patty thanked him and went to the transient barracks.

This Quonset hut was worse than the others he had seen. There were no blankets on the bunks and it was filthy. The stove was in the center burning cherry red. The only person other than himself was a chubby Korean fellow in a business suit sitting on a bunk. He looked up at Patty and smiled.

"Hello Newbee". He said.

"Hi." said Patty. "Where is everyone?"

"You only Newbee today. Other Newbee's go to units. Just you now. My name is Mr. Kim. You name?"

"My name is Patty Fallica. I'm from New York."

"Oh, New Yowk Numbah Hanna. We be good friends, you know. Koreans say chingo. Chingo mean friend. You and me be numbah one chingos and you take me to see New Yowk O.K.?" Mr. Kim had a twinkle in his eye.

Patty was flustered. He didn't really know how to react to this. Mr. Kim saw this and proceeded to lay it on.

"Yee, that is best idea Mr.Kim have in long time. You take me to America with you. O.K Chingo? We have numbah hanna good time."

Patty played along.

"O.K. Mr. Kim, I'll take you to America with me. I'll show you around, get you a good job, and we'll have a grand old time. But first you have to show me your country."

"No sweat Farrica. You come my house. I have numbah hanna house in all town. My wife make you Korean food and we go to club. I find you nice Korean girl. We get tacson stinko."

"Stinko?" Asked Patty.

"Drink whiskey get stinko. Oddaso?"

Patty guessed that oddaso meant understand so he shook his head yes.

Mr. Kim seemed pleased.

"You got clothes Farrica

"Yeah, Mr. Kim, but I got no pass." Patty realized that even if he wanted top go with this half-baked Korean fellow he didn't have a gate pass."

"No sweat. Mr. Kim make you choagie pass. "He said matter of factly.

"Choagie pass"' Another new word.

"Neh, Choagie mean go in Korean. We make you pass and you can go, Oddaso?" And with that he reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack of blank passes. "You need SOFA card too." Mr. Kim took out a card and handed it to Patty. "You write name on paper. I go make pass." He reached into his shirt pocket and handed Patty a pen and a small note pad. Patty wrote his name.

Mr. Kim left the barracks saying he would come back Mos skoshe, which Patty gathered meant pretty quick. After he left he looked at the SOFA card. It stated that Americans fell under both American and Korean law. It further stated that if he were arrested he had the right to contact the American Military Police. SOFA meant Status of Forces Agreement. Patty had changed into his civilian clothes by the time Mr. Kim returned. He handed Patty the pass and he looked at it. It looked authentic. It was typed out with his name and his unit. It even had a Captain's signature on it.

"Is this a real Captain's signature?" He asked Mr. Kim.

"No. You want real Captain to sign? You wait. You wait long time. Pass good, you want pass you take. No want pass you wait.

"I'll take the pass." Patty said.

"Good Farrica. We have numbah one good time. Get plenty stinko. Boom Boom plenty pretty Korean girl. We go now."

Patty shook his head and out the door they went.