CHAPTER 15 Patty felt someone nudging his shoulder. He thought it was his mother. He remembered thinking that he didn't want to get up and go to school. He slowly opened his eyes to see a pock marked oriental face staring down at him. "You go chop." He said. Patty sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. The guys were all in various states of dress. Some had fatigues on and some were in their underwear. All around the barracks you could hear the sound of flip-flops, sucking at the tiled floor and slapping against heels. Patty swung his legs down to the floor and looked around for his duffel bag. It was nowhere to be seen. The Korean was still by the side of his bed with a broad smile on his face. "Have you seen my duffel bag?" He asked. "You no need duffle bag. I fix wall locker. Foot Locker too." He replied. "Where?" Patty asked. "Here." replied the Korean, pointing to the wall locker closest to the bed. Patty rose to his feet. His head was pounding. He was expecting it. This was his fourth hangover since arriving in the country four days ago. He had better lay off he thought. He could become an alcoholic at this rate. He opened the locker. His clothes were all on hangers, and his fatigues had all been pressed. He turned to look for the foot locker. The Korean pointed to one of two at the foot of the bed. He bent down and opened it. His underwear had all been folded and his shaving gear was laid out as if waiting for inspection, He noticed that his boots under the bunk were spit shined. He had never seen them look so good. The Korean was standing next to his bunk with a look of genuine pride on his face. Patty was astounded. "When did you do this?" he asked. "Today. I Numbah one houseboy. You likee?" "I Likee." Patty said. "What's your name?" "My name is Mr. Co. You call me Co. You name?" "Fallica, Patty Fallica." "Fallica.[It sounded like Farrica] I call you Patty." he said. The Korean walked away and Patty grabbed a set of underwear. He threw a towel over his shoulder and walked toward the Latrine. As he stepped out the door he was greeted by a blast of cold air. He sprinted towards the building. Inside he saw other soldiers in the showers and at the sinks shaving. He recognized some. He took of his underwear and entered the shower. The water smelled like chlorine. He turned on a nozzle and soaped himself, feeling the hot water warm his muscles. He heard a commode flush. Everyone jumped out of the spray. Patty screamed and jumped out of the water. Steam filled the shower stall. He looked at his shoulders to see if any blisters appeared. He swore. Murphy laughed. The others did too. "You have to be fast. When you hear the toilets flush, you got a half second to jump, or you'll get cooked." Murphy said. "Yeah, I noticed." Fallica said. Patty showered, shaved and returned to the barracks. Donning his uniform, he went to the messhall. The breakfast was excellent. The powdered eggs he ate were 0.K. if he drenched them in butter. He was just finishing when a small skinny Staff Sergeant sat next to him. "Are you the new 16C?" He asked. "Yep. Just got here yesterday." "Well, you got to process in at the orderly room. After chow, go down there and get it done. After that call the hill and we'll send the truck down for you. What position do you run?" "TTR and MTR. Azimuth, Elevation, and Range." Patty said proudly. "Good, said the Sergeant, 'we can use you. Don't count on coming back down until tomorrow. You're working tonight." He got up and walked away. Patty gulped down the rest of his coffee and started down the hill towards the orderly room. He walked to the front of the building and walked in. The First Sergeant was already there. He looked up from the papers in front of him and glared at Patty. "What the hell do you want?" He almost shouted. "I want to process in." Patty said. "Go to the Arms Room, get a weapons card and a meal card, and you are done. Can you understand that Mr. Noo Yawk?" He said menacingly. "Yes Top." Patty turned to walk away. "Look at me asshole'" He barked. Patty turned and looked at him, eyes turning to slits and his top lip turned into a sneer. It was all Patty could do not to give him the finger. "Do I look like a fuckin' top? A top is something kids play with! Do I look like the type of person a kid would want to play with'" He screamed. Patty said nothing, not trusting himself to reply. "I said do I look like a Top, Dickhead?" He screamed again. "No, First Sergeant, you do not look like a top." Patty said between gritted teeth. "Good, from now on you will refer to me as First Sergeant, not Top, not The First Shirt, just First Sergeant. Got that?" "Yes, First Sergeant. "Good, now get the fuck out of my sight. But before you go asshole, I want you to know two things. First of all I don't like you. In fact I hate your fucking guts. Second of all, I know what you did yesterday, and if I could prove it I would have your ass in Leavenworth for fucking with U.S. Government evidence." He paused and allowed the statement to sink in to Patty's mind. 'You have gotten off to a bad start with me, I better not hear your Goddamn pussy name again for the rest of the time that I'm in-country. And remember this, I'm not set to rotate until next August! Now get the fuck out of here!" Patty turned and walked away. Rotate on this he thought. The Armorer was nice. He issued Patty an M-16 that looked brand new. He also issued him a meal ticket he told Patty he would never use unless he ate in a messhall in another unit. Patty asked to use the field phone and rang the switchboard. The armorer told him to ask for "Yellow", that would put him up to the hill. He talked to somebody that promised that the duty driver would be right down. He was instructed to wait in front of the mess hall. By the time Patty arrived at the messhall the truck was just pulling up. The driver told him to go inside and get a cup of coffee. He did that. The driver disappeared. It was an hour later when he showed up again. They left the messhall and got on the truck. The ride up the mountain took about ten minutes. It was steep all the way. The driver, a VHF man named Morrison, told him that it only takes three minutes to get down. Patty made a mental note not to drive down with him. The top of the hill was ringed with barbed wire. Bunkers stood out around the perimeter. Some were inside the fence line, and some were outside of it. The guard shack at the Entrance was a little larger than the ones in the states. Once inside, Patty saw that the radars didn't look much different than the ones he had worked on in the states. The vans on both sides of the corridor building were lined with sandbags, as were the tops. It didn't take Patty long to notice that everything was covered with sandbags. The truck stopped between the corridor and the generator building. The ready room was directly in front of the corridor. Patty got out and started toward the corridor. He walked toward the stairs and noticed a fairly large sized dog sleeping in front of the door. This must be Fred, Patty thought. He reached to push the door open. Fred looked up at him made a deep menacing growl and bared his teeth. Patty stopped in tracks. Fred stared at him for a couple more seconds and put his head back dawn, sighed and closed his eyes. Patty slowly pushed the door open and gingerly stepped over the sleeping dog. He didn't stir. The interior of the corridor was a bursting with activity. Everyone seemed to be talking at once. One person was talking on the FM radio another was talking on the field phone., and everyone was talking to everyone else. Patty brushed past the bodies, looking for the Staff Sergeant that had told him to report there. He found him in the tracking van. He looked up when Patty entered, headset held to his ear. "Fallica! Glad to see you made it. Welcome aboard. Get yourself a cup of coffee and I'll be right with you after I command cal these missiles." Patty made his way back into the corridor. He saw Wagner inside the Battery Control van, also with a headset on, bending over the acquisition radar. Patty guessed that he was sending designated targets to the tracking station. There the target tracking radar would seek out an airplane in the designated quadrant and track it with a pencil beam of RF energy. Working in the tracking station was Patty's jab. He was pretty good at it. Sometimes he felt as if the radar was an extension of his eyes. He could somehow find targets when nobody else could. Other operators would sometimes be awed by it. When they would ask him how he did it, he would tell them that he had "Second Sight". Patty, at times, really believed that he did. One of his goals was to become tracking supervisor, That was the job with the glory. A good "Track Sup" was paramount to passing a crew drill, or to running a successful mission. He stood behind the target tracking crew with a box in his hand called the "remote". The target tracking crew were seated in front of him. There were three, the elevation operator on the left, the azimuth operator in the middle, and the range operator on the right. A target would be designated from the battery control van using a broad beamed acquisition radar similar to the ones used at airports. The Acq. Operator, as he was called, would place a circle over the target, tap a switch, and the target tracking radar in the tracking station would automatically slave to the area designated. After that it was up to the tracking crew to find that target. The radar would be pointed on approximately the right azimuth and range. As soon as the controls stopped slewing to the designated location, the elevation operator would bring the radar up and down to find the altitude. When the radar had the right elevation and azimuth, the target would appear on the scope as a line. The range operator would then slew the range until the line dropped into a small notch on the baseline of the scope, called the range gate. Once that was accomplished, the target would be tracked. With the target tracked, the information would be relayed to a computer in the battery control van. The computer would at the fire command, launch a missile and direct the missile tracking radar to the coordinates it was receiving from the target tracking radar, causing the missile to burst when it reached those coordinates. It was a good system, provided the equipment worked the way it was supposed to. The tracking supervisor was responsible for insuring that the three tracking operators did what they were supposed to. He had to be qualified in each position, azimuth, elevation and range. The track sup was also responsible for electronic countermeasures in case the enemy aircraft used electronic warfare to jam the scopes. This is what the remote box was used for. During simulations it was not uncommon for a tracking supervisor to lose control of not only the radar, but of himself. A bad track sup could be responsible for allowing the radars to be saturated with enemy jamming thereby losing the target and dropping the engagement. The tracking supervisor also transmitted reports to the Battery Control Officer, or BCO. That was the part that Patty liked the best. The whole Fire Control area and the Launching area heard him. The engagement effectively ended with the words "Burst in the gate, target destroyed". It was a responsible position, and one that Patty hoped someday to have. Patty was close to qualifying for it. He was an azimuth operator. That meant he was also qualified in elevation. The azimuth operator was senior to elevation, and they both worked on the target tracking radar.(TTR) The range operator was junior to the Missile tracking radar operator. During the crew drill the Range operator and the MTR operator worker together doing checks on the MTR. Patty knew the range position and had qualified in the states. The only thing he didn't know were checks on the Target Ranging Radar (TRR). The tracking supervisor performed checks on this during the crew drill. He knew a little, and could just about do it with a manual., but he didn't have the expertise to handle a fifteen minute crew drill without the book. That was the whole point of course. A manning crew had to be able to check out the equipment and fire a missile within twenty minutes. Fifteen minutes to check out the radars and five minutes for the engagement. If the crew failed to do this, the Battery was declared out of action for either equipment malfunctions, or crew performance. The battery could not again be declared in action, or combat ready until a new evaluation was performed. This could be anywhere from twenty-four hours to a week. Commanders were relieved for too many lost crew drills. Every day the equipment was checked out. These were called dailys. The crew stated on these every morning and usually finished around ten-thirty. Nobody liked dailys all that much, but they were a fact of life. The crew was just finishing dailys when Patty arrived. The Staff Sergeant walked over to where Patty was finishing his coffee. He motioned for him to follow. Patty followed him out the rear door of the corridor and through the back door of the ready room. Patty noticed that the ready room was clean and warm. He was surprised to see a T.V. over in the corner. At the far side he saw a pool table. At the rear, near the door they had entered was a small room with a bed. Patty guessed correctly that it must be the duty officers room. The Staff Sergeant indicated that he take a seat. He walked over to a coffee pot and poured himself a cup. He asked Patty if he wanted one. Patty declined, his kidneys were floating already. The Sergeant walked over to the table and sat down directly across from Patty. "I read your two-oh-one file Fallica, and I saw your last three enlisted evaluation reports. Your job proficiency is rated as excellent. Your last Section Chief said he has never seen anyone progress as quickly as you have in so short a time. I'm impressed. " He said. "Thank you." Patty replied. "The other things in your file didn't look so good though.' he said with a grave tone. 'You got three article 15's in one year. How the Fuck did you manage to keep SP/4?" "I guess I'm just lucky." Patty said with a shrug of his shoulders. "I think it was because you're a good operator. Fallica, I need good operators. This isn't New Jersey, it's Korea. We're only three minutes flying time from the DMZ. I don't care what the fuck you do on your off time. All I care about is whether you are here in the morning, and that you do what you are paid to do when you are up here. Do you understand?" "Yes Sergeant." "My name is Brown. Harold Brown. You can call me Brown, Sarge, Dickhead, anything you want to as long as you don't do it in front of the officers. From now on I am your Section Chief, and you are my responsibility. I am your Father, Mother, and your protector. If you have a problem I want to know about it. I want to know about it before the orderly room knows about it. Have you met the First Sergeant?" "Yes. He doesn't like me." Patty said. "He doesn't like himself. In fact, he is the biggest asshole we have. Try to stay clear of him. Got that?" Brown asked. Fatty nodded his head. "Do you know why we went out the back door?" Patty said he didn't know. "Because of Fred. Have you met Fred?" Patty told him that he had met Fred. "Fred doesn't like me. I don't like Fred. I am afraid of Fred. Fred is not afraid of me. The only reason he doesn't tear me to pieces is because he knows that I run things up here and that I take care of him. That applies to you too. You can be just like Fred. Do you understand?" Patty nodded his head and said that he understood. Brown said that they should get along splendidly. Now he should go over and tell Larson to take him through a set of dailys. Patty got up and walked back into the corridor. As he approached the door Fred looked up at him. Patty stopped. "Do you know that I can be just like you?" He said to Fred. Fred growled. Patty growled back. Fred licked Patty's hand. They were friends. CHAPTER 16 Evenings on the hill belonged to the crew. The Platoon Sergeant and the officers were gone. The only people in authority left at night was the duty Officer and the Section Chief. Tonight it was Lt. Hicks and SSG Brown. Both minded their own business. Most did. The duty officers usually stayed in the corridor or the ready building reading or watching T.V. After chow, eaten from mermite cans, the crew would finish six-hour checks. When these were done, usually about eight o'clock, they would either start a game of spades, play RISK, or just hang out. T.V. was usually ignored. In Korea the only English channel was AFKN. The Armed Forces, Korean Network. They played old reruns and sports shows that were days old. What fun was watching a baseball game when you already knew who won? The news was a joke. The military only told what they wanted everyone to hear. Things. like how we were winning in Vietnam, how good the folks back home were doing, and how much fun you could have in Korea courtesy of the Eighth Army Command. Patty was sitting in front of the T.V. It was just starting to be apparent to him that the whole experience was meaningless, A public service announcement came on and told him that did he know there were ten million alcoholics in the United States? Ten Million and one Patty muttered under his breath. SSG Brown caught that and chuckled. Patty got up, stretched and looked around. SSG Brown told him he had Guard duty in a little while. Maybe he should go out to the guard shack and get acquainted with the procedures. Why not, thought Patty. Walking out of the ready room, Patty noticed that nobody else was around. Where the hell did they disappear too? He walked out and into the corridor and saw that only the Commo Guard was there. This shift it was Vitaman Tim. He tried to make a little conversation but Tim was absorbed in his comic book. God, thought Patty, what a burn-out. I'll never get like that he vowed. He checked out his weapon and walked toward the guard shack. The hill was dark, the perimeter lights along the fence line were shining outwards. The area outside the fence was lit, but inside the fence was dark.. Patty tripped over some cables but righted himself before he fell. It was spooky. He didn't like being out here alone. He guessed he would get used to it in time. The guard shack was ahead. He could see the cherry colored light that was the space heater inside. He turned the doorknob and stepped inside. Murphy was leaning against the wall with his rifle against the door. It fell as Patty closed it behind him. Murphy woke up with a start. "I wasn't sleeping." He said defensively. "I didn't say you were." But Patty knew he was. "You can't sleep on guard duty. It's important to stay awake." He said. "This is Korea. Shit happens." "What kind of shit?" Patty asked. "All kinds of shit." Murphy replied, string out the window looking at nothingness. "What kind of shit?" Patty asked again. Murphy looked at him with a strange knowing grin. "I'11 tell you what kind of shit. Shit like guys going out on patrol up north and never coming back. Or if they are found, they have been shot up or fragged, clothing missing, boots taken every time. They always take the hoots." Murphy said. "Who takes the boots?" "The North Koreans. They like American boots. You can always tell it's them. They always take the boots. " Patty felt a chill start up his spine. Murphy had said it so slowly, so mysteriously. The words echoed in his head. THEY ALWAYS TAKE THE HOOTS. Patty stared at Murphy and saw that his eyes were beet red, that was when he realized that Murphy was high. He started laughing. Murphy looked up at him and a smile started at the corner of his mouth. He snickered, Patty snickered and the snicker turned into a chuckle. Soon both were laughing hysterically until Patty thought he would puke. Murphy got up and sprinkled something on top of the space heater. It started to smolder because of the intense heat. The guard shack filed with smoke and Patty realized that it was pot. " Just take deep breaths." Murphy said. "This is the lazy mans way of getting high." They sat and talked. Murphy said he really wasn't kidding about some of the shit that happened over here. It paid to be careful. Every once in a while guys would get shot at. The inter area cable between the launching area and the IFC area was constantly being cut. The Commander and Army Intelligence said that slickie boys were doing it to get the copper from the cable, but the guys in the unit knew that it was a bullshit story. The cable was only cut during "Hot" status, when their unit was the one on the highest state of alert. Also, the cable was only cut in about a two foot section, in two or three different places. If it was slickie boys, they would take more than that, and they would cut it when they were in a maintenance status, and the power was shut down. That way they could take more of it and nobody would know it was cut for days. The BC was calling in a Special Forces Company anyway. He just wanted it stopped. Other things happened. Last month Thirteen men were hanged in the square in Yoju, the town outside Delta battery. They wandered into town and one of them made the mistake of asking how much a pack of cigarettes cost. Everyone in Korea knows that cigarettes were sold by the government of Korea, and that they were all the same price. The townspeople tried them and hanged them the same day. They didn't waste time. Patty listened intently. Murphy told him that the village outside the gate had a whore that was a witch. She held seances to summon up the devil. Murphy wanted Patty to check that out. Patty was game. They agreed that it should be done as soon as possible. Murphy looked at his watch and scowled. It was time to do a perimeter check. At least once an hour they were required to walk around the fence line. One person was supposed to remain at the gate and the other would walk. Murphy told Patty that after 9 P.M. they did it together. If a truck came up, tough. They zipped their field jackets and left the guard shack. They walked to the left. They passed the VHF building and went behind the generator building. Patty saw something scurry into the cable run. He thought it might be a squirrel, Murphy told him it was a rat. Past the generator building the path took them downward. It looped around a cluster of boulders and dawn to level ground again. This was called the "Lower Forty" Murphy explained. Nobody liked to come down here alone because it dipped out of sight from the rest of the hill, and because it was just plain spooky. Sometimes they would find that the fence line was cut. Almost every time that they did find the fence line cut, it was in the "Lower Forty". Patty noticed that here and there the fence had indeed been repaired. He wanted to know why somebody would try to get in. Murphy told him that nine out of ten times it was slikie boys. Patty wondered about the one out of ten when it wasn't. Murphy told him that Fred usually scared most intruders off. He was a great watchdog when he was up here. Once when Fred wasn't around, a slikie boy came up and stole everybody's wallet while they slept. Since then, they took guard duty a little more seriously. This had happened last month. An antenna with a box attached to the bottom greeted the two at the far end of the fence. This was the test set. It sent out a beacon that they used to calibrate the radars. It was part of dailys and six-hour checks to come down here and run some checks on it. The MTR operator usually did it. During the winter it was a bitch because the wind blew like hell down here and if there was a lot of snow it was hard to get up and down the hill. Almost every year somebody broke a leg down here. They traveled back up the hill on the opposite side of the one they had come down. Patty saw a huge building on steel girders about seventy feet high. An acquisition antenna revolved slowly from the top. Murphy explained that it was the A Bar. It usually never worked. When it was in action though, somebody had to be in there twenty-four hours a day. The little black guy Toomer was the A Bar operator. Murphy suggested that was why he was so crazy. Pulling duty up there was like being in solitary confinement. They moved along the side of the fence behind the radars. They passed the TRR and the MTR. Murphy stopped and gave it a pat. The MTR was his radar. The operator on the other crew, Murphy's opposite, was an asshole Murphy explained. Murphy told Patty that it took hours to get it right after the other guy had it. Patty laughed. This aspect of the job was no different than in the States. The other crew were always assholes. Murphy pointed outside the fence. Patty looked. He didn't see anything but the lights from the village. Beyond that was only blackness. "What?" Patty asked, "I don't see anything." "That's because past the village is the yellow sea." Murphy explained. "Sometimes you can see ROK troops searching the coastline for infiltrators. I've seen two firefights in the four months that I've been here." Patty asked what they were like. Murphy told him how the ROK's would break up and search the ground in huge boxes. You could see how they moved because they carried flashlights. If they found something, they would start shooting. Patty asked why they didn't wait to see what they were shooting at. That was when he learned about curfew. After midnight nobody was supposed to he out. If somebody was out after midnight, especially someplace like on the beach, they were asking to have their ass shot off. It was chilly and Patty was glad to return to the guard shack. Murphy looked at his watch and told Patty that it was time for his shift to be up. Before he left, he rolled a joint and gave it to Patty. Patty appreciated it. Murphy left the guard shack and walked toward the corridor. Being in the guard shack alone unnerved Patty a bit. It was really quiet. He heard the wind whistling through the fence and for the first time since being in-country, he felt really alone. He peered out of the window at the lights down below. He wondered what it was like outside the gates. He heard all the stories but he really didn't know what was bullshit and what was fact. He wondered if anyone missed him at home. Tomorrow he would write his mother a letter, he thought. He thought about his mother. He felt bad about the last full day he was home. His mother had made him lasagna, which was his favorite. They had planned a small party for him too. Patty thought that it was a nice thing for them to do but it didn't fit in with his plans. The only thing Patty wanted to do was hang out with his friends and see Gayle. Bruce had sent him two black beauties in the mail and Patty ate both around 11:00. By the time dinner was served that night, Patty was speeding his ass off and he didn't want any part of the meal. That really upset his mother. He couldn't stay home either. As soon as he could he left the house and he was off to the bar. He had called Gayle that evening and she gave him a couple of hours, but she didn't seem overly concerned that he was going away. Well, she was like that. He always knew she didn't feel the same way about him that he did for her. A wave of sadness came over Patty like a hard blanket. He felt like a tragic figure. In his mind's eye he could see himself as a lone figure in a strange and foreign land. A poor deserted lonely G.I. doing his duty the best way he could. The song that always crept up on him when he felt alone crept up on him again,. He heard himself sing. "Well I ride on that train babe, can't buy a thrill. Well I been up all night, leaning on the windowsill. And if I die on top of that hill, well if I don't make it I know my baby will." Patty could get last in song. He liked the sound of his own voice. By now he was totally relaxed with his head tilted upwards against the wall, eyes closed, He got ready to sing the next verse when the guard shack door opened. It made him jump and his face burned with embarrassment at the thought that maybe somebody had heard him. He looked up and saw Vitaman, Tim looking down at him. Tim cleared a place in the corner of the shack and sat down. Patty noticed that Tim's eyes were different than before. They kind of were alive. He had a small crinkle at the corner of his mouth that suggested a smile. He looked at Patty and nodded his head, Patty had no idea of what to make figure until he heard the next verse come from Tim's lips: "Don't the moon look good mama, shinin' through the trees. Don't the brakeman look good mama, flaggin' down the double E. Don't the sun look good, goin down over the trees, Don't my gal look fine when she's comin' after me. Patty couldn't believe it. A huge smile crossed his face and an instant bond seemed created between himself and Vitaman Tim. This was the first time he had heard anybody but Bob Dylan or himself sing this particular song. I fact, he didn't know of anyone that had even heard of it. Tim smiled at Patty and motioned with a back and forth wave of his hand that meant he wanted both of them to do the next verse. Patty hesitated but eventually lost his inhibition and they churned out the next verse: "Well the wintertime is comin mama, the windows are filled with frost. I tried to tell everybody, but I could not get across. Well I want to be your lover mama I don't want to be your boy, Don't say I never wanted you, When your train gets lost." There was silence after the last verse. Patty had thought they sounded pretty good. They both just looked at each other. Soon Tim and Patty were laughing and congratulating each other. "Where in New York do you come from" Asked Patty. "Long Island". Tim replied. "Me too. Where on Long Island?" Tim told Patty that he didn't call anywhere his home town because he'd moved so much. His father and mother were split up since he was a kid and he had been shuffled back and forth. They found out that they were both born in Huntington. Patty's family had moved east towards Port Jeff, but Tim's family had stayed in the Huntington-Northport area. Patty asked Tim what the place was really like without the bullshit. Tim answered that the place couldn't be described without the bullshit. It was different than any other place he had ever been. It was good, but it could be bad. "What do you mean by good and bad?" Patty inquired. "Well, It's good when you have a good buzz on and your lying next to a pretty girl in a warm hootch with a full belly." He said. "It's bad when all hell breaks loose and your not ready for it. That's what I mean." "What kind of shit?" Patty was intrigued. "You don't want to hear a bunch of war stories. Get me started and I'll go on all night." Tim said. "So what?" Patty countered, "We got all night." "What do you want to hear, the good parts or the bad parts." Tim quipped. "The parts that will help me understand this place, the parts that will stop me from fucking myself up." Patty answered seriously. "That sounds logical. O.K. Stop me when you've heard enough." He handed Patty a small baggie and some rolling papers. "You roll and I'll talk." And then Vitamin Tim told Patty his story. He went on for hours. He told Patty why he had joined the Army. How he had volunteered for Korea to get out of going to Viet-Nam. Tim explained that he was only seventeen years old when he got to Korea. Full of Piss and Vinegar was how he described himself. Tim was first stationed in Yoju. The only thing they had there was a small village. Everyone in the unit had a Yobo. A yobo was a girl you rented by the month. Hack in 1969 a Yobo cost about sixty dollars. If she was ugly, a little less. His Yobo had been about 45 years old. She took good care of him though. He could get drunk and sick, and she would clean him up and put him to bed. The first couple of months he was there nothing much happened. He drank too much, but he didn't drug. He went to work and did his job. Everything was fine for awhile. "What happened to change things?" Patty interrupted. "Garter changed things. At least for me. "How?" Tim took a deep drag off the joint and stared out of the window. He seemed lost for a couple of minutes. Patty started to think that maybe he had sort of shut down. Maybe the recounting this particular part of his life was a little too much for him. Patty was about to say something when Tim started again. "Garter was a little weird. He was real smart. He was always reading some sort of book. But that was his problem. He was book smart but didn't know squat about the real world. He had no common sense." Tim looked at Patty to see if he understood. Patty was nodding his head. Tim went on. Tim proceeded to tell Patty how things had gotten a little hairy with the communists. The Pueblo had been taken by the North, and nobody knew what was going to come down. The spy ship was just the beginning. It was Christmas time and just about every night the siren would ring. It was always about three AM. The guys would rush into the vans and fire up the radars. The worst feeling in the world was turning on the B scope and seeing hundreds of aircraft heading towards the south. Everyone would sweat bullets. "What happened?" Tim asked. "Well, they would get within a couple of miles of the border. Our planes would be heading North trying to intercept them. Just when it looked like they would engage, The commie planes would do a U-turn and head back up North." He explained to Patty that the planes were only a part of it. The villagers would get real nervous. The fuel depot was constantly being refilled and new equipment they had been asking for since he got there, was being sent in everyday. They enforced the policy of only having 20% of the personnel on pass at any one time. If you went to the village, you had to go in fatigues. If you were on post, you had to have your M-14 and 156 rounds of ammunition. On guard duty, your weapon had to have a round chambered. You slept with your weapon next to you. Yes, he explained, things were hairy. Everyone was really uptight. Especially the guys down the launching area. They were put on double shifts of guard duty, and they also doubled the number of guards they had out. This meant that other sections had to provide some men to take up some of the slack. That was why Tim had duty driver for the guard force that night. It was snowing like hell. It was cold too. It had snowed so much that week, that the roads almost leaked like tunnels without a roof. The snow had build up so much on both sides. Tim had dropped off most of the evening guard force and only had one more stop to make. That was when he heard the bullet. Tim stopped the truck. He was sure that he had heard someone shooting at him. He was taking no chances. He rolled out of the drivers seat and fell to the ground clutching his M-14 in his hands. He listened, but didn't hear anymore shots being fired. He remembered that Garter was in back of the truck and started to low crawl toward the rear. From a crouch, he banged on the tail-gate. He received no answer. He banged again and yelled Garters name. He still didn't get a reply. At this point Tim's face went almost blank, but his eyes kind of half closed, almost as if he were in pain. "What the fuck happened?" Patty said, caught up in the story. Tim slowly turned his head and looked at Patty. "I climbed up into the duece and a half. If was dark in there. I knew what happened though, because I could smell the gunpowder. Garter was over in the corner behind the cab. His rifle was laying across his lap and his helmet was on the floor. Half of his head was still in it. The other half was still sitting on his neck, but I couldn't recognize it." "God, that's terrible. Jesus Christ!" Patty exclaimed. "What the fuck did you do?" Tim shrugged his shoulders. He went on. "I learned a lot about living and dying that night. I drove the truck to the aid station. I was hysterical. I got the medic up and told him what happened. He didn't blink an eye. He had served two tours in 'Nam. I wanted him to hurry up, but he took his time getting dressed. He told me to relax. If Garter had left half of his head in his helmet he said, the other half would didn't care by now if he was a little late getting there." "We walked out to the duece and the medic went in. He came out about five minutes later. He looked at me and said you're right, he's dead. In fact he said something like you can't get much deader." "We went back into the aid station and he put on a kettle of water for coffee an the space heater. He called the BOQ and told the Captain. Then he called the Battalion Surgeon on the FM radio. The duty officer at the other end asked for a report. The medic told him what happened. The duty officer wanted to know Garters vital signs. Every thing was zero. Heart rate, respiration, temperature, blood pressure." "What did the duty officer say "He asked if we needed oxygen!" Tim started to laugh. "0xygen!" And Patty started to laugh. Tim raised his hand to stop while he gasped for breath. "Do you know what the First Sergeant did? He told me I had a bad night and told me to go back to the barracks and get some sleep. I started to leave and he said that before I went to bed I had to clean out the truck. For the rest of the night I scraped brains off the bed of the truck with a putty knife. That's Army compassion." "That's Army bullshit !" Patty said in anger. "Not really, when you think of it, it was just what I needed. If they would have made a big deal of it, I might have been traumatized. I think it went the way it should have gone. I can tell you one thing though." "What?" "There ain't no glory in suicide." CHAPTER 17 Patty felt someone shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes and tried to figure out where he was. Looking around the room he remembered that he was up on the hill. Everyone was up and moving except for him. SSG Brown was still standing by his bunk looking at him. "Come on Fallica, we got six hour checks." He said. Patty shook the cob webs out of his brain. He had been up almost all night talking with Vitaman Tim. He just got to sleep less than two hours ago. He looked at the clock on the wall, 6 AM. Too goddamn early, he thought. He sat up on the bunk and started to pull his boots on. SSG Brown, seeing that he was up, walked out of the ready room. Patty had the urge to just lie back down and go back to sleep. He didn't do it though. He was kind of looking forward to pulling the six hour checks on the TTR. Yesterday, Larson wouldn't let him touch anything. Today was different. Larson was on Guard Duty and he would get to do it by himself. Patty left the ready room and walked into the corridor. Three men were sitting at the table in the center. They were still. playing RISK. That game had been going on for hours. Five guys had started it, now there were only three. It looked like Wagner was going to win. The coffee pot was on and the smell almost gave Patty a hard on. He was only eighteen years old, but his coffee habit was strong. He poured himself a cup and walked into the van. The elevation operator was a big help. He was almost ready top be a TTR operator. He helped get Patty through the checks and showed him the small differences in this particular radar. Checks were completed in half an hour. When Patty went into the corridor, Wagner was just finishing winning the RISK game. Everyone else was milling about, each person had a coffee cup in his hand. Today was Friday. They were supposed to attend a formation in the afternoon. Monday morning and Friday evening were reveille and retreat formations. It was just a formality. Part of the Army tradition Patty was told. Patty could care less. Back in New Jersey they had formation every morning. Two a week were all right with him. The truck pulled up in front of the corridor and blew its air horn. The crew on duty grabbed for their jackets and other near they had brought up with them. Every one made a dash for the truck. The other crew was coming into the corridor as they were leaving. The different operators would exchange short bits of information with their counterparts, This works, this doesn't. Watch out for this, don't worry about that. Patty was glad when he was seated in the truck: and on the way back down the mountain. He was hungry and the messhall would be his first stop. As it turned out, the messhall wasn't his first stop. Nobody wanted to eat breakfast. He didn't want to eat alone, and more important, Vitaman Tim had told him the night before that he would show him around Inchon, and Tim was leaving as soon as he showered and changed. Patty showered and changed too. His houseboy had done all of his civilian clothes and had them hung up in his locker. He was informed by his houseboy that he would require a Kimchee cabinet for the rest of his things. For a nominal fee of $10.00 this could he acquired directly from the aforementioned houseboy. Patty agreed. The deal was done. Tim was ready and waiting when Patty knocked on his dear. They took off down the hill. Patty had trouble keeping up with Tim. He didn't want to start complaining for fear that Tim wouldn't want him around. Still Patty couldn't understand why or how he walked so fast. It was such a pace that Patty almost had to break into a trot to keep up with him. They walked out of the gate and started through the village. Tim told him that the village was called Moonhak. If he wanted to go back to the Battery, all he had to do was tell the taxi driver Moonhak and he would be taken to the battery. The village was poor and dirty by Patty's standards. There were no sidewalks and the road too was mud and dirt. The houses were cinder block covered with corrugated tin. Some huts off the road were actually made of hardened earth with straw roofing. They were quite comfortable Tim explained. The floors were heated with charcoal. There were vents that ran under the floor to distribute the heat. Patty was told to sleep with the window cracked because sometimes the concrete floors cracked and carbon monoxide would seep in. Tim told Patty that he had known at least five guys die from it. As patty walked down the road he noticed that what the guys had told him was true. All the dogs in the village did look like Fred. He mentioned this to Tim. He just shrugged his shoulders. Patty figured that it was a stupid remark. Probably all Korean dogs looked the same. At the end of the village they reached a main road. This too was dirt. Tim turned a corner and went inside a doorway. He motioned for Patty to follow. Patty did. Inside was a room with a dirt floor. A charcoal heater was in the center. Around the heater were wooden benches. Tim sat down on one of these and Patty followed suit. A door slid open from the side of the room and a small old Korean woman stepped out. "Bitaman! Onya Hashimnika! You go PX today "Nay Mamasan. Go ASCOM. You need?" She shook her head, obviously delighted that Tim had stopped at her place. Tim turned to Patty and told him that they were in a Moklee house. A moklee house Tim explained, was a Korean version of a bar. Moklee was the stuff they made out of rice. It looked like milk and tasted something like stale beer. It fucked you up real good, but gave you a terrible hangover. The woman Tim explained, was the local black-marketeer. If Patty wanted to sell something from the PX, this was the woman he should deal with. She also bought sleeping bags, field jackets, and anything else he could glom from the supply room. She paid the best prices, but she wouldn't deal with everybody. As far as Tim knew, he was her only supplier. If Patty wanted too, Tim told him, he would fix it so he could take Tim's place when he left. Patty said OK, not knowing what else to say. Tim introduced Patty to the old woman. She smiled at him. Patty noticed that she had a gold capped front tooth. She looked friendly enough and so he smiled back. She talked rapidly to Tim in a mixture of English and Korean that leaned heavily toward the Korean. Tim seemed to understand perfectly, but Patty could only make out a word here and there. When the conversation was over, Patty had no idea what they had talked about. He told Tim this and again Tim shrugged his shoulders. Outside it was raining lightly. The sky was gray and threatening. Tim leaned back against the wall under the overhang. Patty was anxious to get going and asked Tim what they were waiting for. "The bus." Was Tim's answer. "They got buses?" "Of course they got buses. Most of the guys use taxi's. I use the bus. If you know where they go, you can save a lot of money. Most of the guy's are too lazy to learn how to use the bus system." Patty thought about it. Tim seemed to know what he was talking about even though at this particular moment he was dying to get moving. Still, Tim was the authority and Patty would respect that. The bus came rumbling down the road before Patty had too much time to think about it. The door opened and a girl in a blue uniform called out "Inchon" in a whining voice. Tim climbed on, giving the girl some coins he had fished from his pocket. "How much did you pay?" Patty asked. "Forty won." Tim replied. "I'll pay you back when I change my money." Patty vowed. "Don't bother. Do you know how much forty won is?" Tim asked, looking at Patty as if he were retarded. "No." Patty replied. "About eight cents. I can afford to treat." Tim was smiling. "How much is a cab?" Patty asked. "Usually about twelve hundred won, which is almost four dollars. You can get laid for twelve hundred won. I know for a fact that you can get drunk." The bus swayed with the ruts on the road. It was raining pretty hard by now and the road was a sea of mud. After about a mile it turned to pavement. Patty and Tim had taken a back seat. The bus stopped about every thousand feet or so. At each stop two or three passengers would board. It only took a short time before the bus was completely full. Still the bus stopped. Patty couldn't believe that anymore people could possibly fit. The mamasan standing next to him in the aisle was pushing against his shoulder. He in turn was pressed up against Tim, who was pressed against the window. Patty thought for sure that soon the mamasan would be in his lap. The bus kept stopping. By this time the girl would disembark and after the last person who wanted to get on was on the steps, she would push the people until the driver could close the door. At times she actually braced her legs against the door jam and pressed with her back. Meanwhile people were rammed together like sardines. It was strange the way the Koreans responded. In fact, they didn't respond at all. By the look on their faces, they could have been in their living rooms watching TV. It was unreal. Patty could smell the kimchee. It was sickening at first, but after awhile his nose kind of died or just became overpowered. He became immune to it by the time the bus reached the station. After leaving the: bus, Patty noticed that they were now in a city. The buildings around the station were at least ten stories high. Patty hadn't seen anything like a city since he had arrived. He asked Tim what the population of Inchon was. Tim told him that it was about five million. "How many G.I.'s are stationed here?" Patty asked. "About two hundred and fifty. There's us, and a detachment of MPs that guard the warehouses." Tim replied. "That's the greatest thing about this place. Tim proceeded to tell Patty why it was so great. He explained that the Koreans in Inchon thought of the Americans as a curiosity. They received special attention. There at least, they were considered guests. Other parts of Korea that hosted large contingents of Americans thought of them as a pain in the ass. Also, Tim explained, the type of Koreans that lived near an American Army camp were more than likely dirt bags that made their living off of GI's. Another great thing about Inchon was that it was a big seaport. That meant sailors. Wherever sailors were, there were red-light districts, Inchon had a great red-light district. The girls there were some of the finest in the country. What was really nice though, was that the sailors came and went, but the GI's there were a constant. The girls liked to have GI boyfriends to party with when the sailors weren't around. They also liked the fact that the Americans could get them things from the PX and take them to the American movies at ASCOM. Patty liked to hear this kind of talk. He wished that they would get moving so that he could sample a few of the local women. He told Tim this. Tim told him that he had the rest of his tour here and that he should be a little patient. Tim led Patty around the station until they came to a large Mercedes-Benz bus. To Patty it was magnificent compared to the bus they had arrived on. Tim bounded up the steps and Patty followed. The bus was extremely comfortable. Not as many passengers got on. It was an express to boot. They arrived in another city thirty minutes later. "Where are we now'," Patty asked. "Bupyong, about ten minutes away from ASCOM. Tim started walking and Patty hurried to keep up. It had stopped raining and the sun was peeking through the clouds. Patty noticed that this city seemed a little different than Inchon. The buildings weren't as tall and the place seemed a little poorer. Patty wanted to know why they were going to ASCOM to begin with. "To go to the class six store and the PX." Tim explained. "Mamasan hasn't seen me for almost a week and she needs some things." "Do you mean we came all the way over here so Mamasan could get some things from the PX?" Patty asked incredulously, "Trust me Newbee." Tim replied. "Didn't I say I'd show you the ropes Patty didn't say any more. He had asked Tim to show him around and he said he was doing that. Besides, Patty had nothing better to do, and the run had come all the way out from behind the clouds and it had turned unseasonably warm. Patty felt cheered. It was a good day. They came up on the base. Walking through the gates, Patty felt as if he had stepped into another world. It was like a piece of America had been shipped over. There were stretches of green grass and even a football field! They walked past the football field to a large building. "This is the PX, NCO Club, and the class six store. Not to mention the movie theatre. This is going to be your main headquarters. Be nice to the people here, especially the Koreans, It'll pay off in the long run." Tim said. As if to make a point, Tim stepped over to the Class Six Store window. It looked like a bank tellers cage, but instead of dealing with cash, booze was the commodity. "Hi Jimmy, long time no see. " He said with a salesman's smile on his face. "Bitaman! Hey how you been? You short?" He asked. "I'm so short I have to look up to look down. What you got for me?" "For you, anything." "That's my man. How 'bout 5 bottles of Johnny Walker Black and four cases of Falstaff. "You got ration card?"' Jimmy asked, eyeing Patty suspiciously. "Hey, no sweat. I don't need a ration card Jimmy. Besides, I've used up all my liquor rations." Tim knew that Jimmy was hesitant to do business with Patty around. "This is my Chingo. Patty meet Jimmy. They exchanged greetings. "Jimmy, when I leave, Patty is going to take over. He knows the score, O.K.?" Jimmy smiled. "You got what I need?" "Don't I always?" And with that, Tim slipped a folded wad of twenties to Jimmy. "You know what's there. I'll pick up the stuff on my way out." Tim said. The next stop was the P.X. Patty watched as Tim bought a rice cooker and two frying pans. He also purchased four jars of Noxema and four cartons of Marlboros. When they were finished they went over to the NCO Club. They sat over in a corner. The Club was not very busy. Patty could smell food cooking and he became hungry. They ordered fried chicken and beer. Patty was impressed at the way everyone treated Tim. Every Korean he came in contact with seemed to be a close friend. Tim spoke fluent Korean too. It looked funny to see him sound like a Korean. Patty had no idea what he said to them, but the Koreans seemed to have no trouble understanding. Everybody was all laughs and smiles. Meanwhile, Patty was rapidly getting buzzed on the beer he was drinking. "Let's cutachoagie." Tim said. " What is cutachoagie?" Patty asked. Tim explained that it was a Korean-American slang word. Choagie meant to go in Korean. Therefore to cut a choagie was a different way to sat let's go. Patty nodded his head. Patty was not sure about this Korean stuff. It all seemed difficult. He told Tim this, but Tim said he'd pick it up in no time. They took a taxi back, and Patty was relieved. Tim explained that a taxi back was not just a luxury. Getting the stuff back to the village without being followed by Korean CID was easier if they took a taxi. Besides, he told Patty, he wanted to party. When they reached the village, Mamasan was waiting. They went into the moklee house and made the transaction. Patty couldn't believe how much money she gave Tim. He shoved the money in his pocket, gave mamasan a little kiss on the cheek, and they left. They took another bus back to Inchon. Patty started to ask Tim how much he made, but Tim put his finger to his lips. Patty shut up. After a ride exactly like the first trip they had made in the morning, they arrived in Inchon. As they walked down the side walk, Tim explained to Patty the art of black-marketeering. The frying pans he bought for nine dollars at the PX sold for sixty dollars on the market. That was a profit of one hundred two dollars. The rice cooker cost thirty two dollars in the PX and one hundred on the market. The Johnny Walker was eight dollars a bottle at the class six and thirty when resold. The Noxema was two dollars and sold for five, the beer was two dollars forty cents a case and sold for ten dollars. The Marlboros were a dollar ninety and sold for eight dollars. All in all Tim explained, they had made a gross profit of three hundred forty one dollars and eighty cents. After expenses they netted two hundred eighty five dollars and forty cents. "What expenses?" Patty asked. "The twenty I slipped Jimmy, the twenty I slipped Choe at the PX, the lunch, the beers, and the bus and taxi fares." Tim replied. "I got it down to a fine art. Not a bad mornings work." He smiled and winked at Patty. " I didn't see you give anything to the girl at the PX." Patty said. "You wern't supposed too." Tim replied. "How much Korean money did you get." "One hundred thirty thousand five hundred sixty seven won. That means you get sixty five thousand two hundred eighty won. Give or take a couple. " "I get? How come I get?" Patty asked. "Because you went with me. You took a chance same as me. You helped me carry the stuff. You would have been busted right along with me if we got caught. Understand?" "I guess. "Don't guess. It's fact. Guessing gets people in trouble. Let's get fucked up." Tim said. "That's a capital idea!" Patty exclaimed. He was already half-drunk. "No, this is a capital idea." Tim said, as he thrust a huge wad of bills in Patty's jacket pocket. CHAPTER 18 Tim took Patty to a teahouse called "The Frog." It wasn't really called the frog, but it had a picture of a frog on the sign. The rest of the sign had Korean lettering that Patty couldn't understand. The place was big, and very busy. They had several floors with an open center where you could see all the patrons. Tim was welcomed like a regular and they were taken to a table on one of the balconies. It was a luxurious place. The people that sat at the tables were all well dressed. Patty had seen nothing like this since arriving in Korea. After being seated, a pretty girl in a traditional Korean costume came to the table. Tim ordered rapidly in Korean the girl smiled and nodded, and soon returned with a kettle of tea, and two glasses of something else. "What's this?" He asked Tim. "Try it and see." Tim said. Noticing that Patty was hesitant he added, "Trust me." Patty raised the glass to his lips. It was warm to the touch. He tilted his head back and let the liquid pour down his throat. It was scotch. Good scotch too. But it was warm, almost hot. "Chase it with the tea." Tim said. Patty took in a mouthful of tea. His stomach started to get warm, and then hot. He could feel the blood rush to his head and he began to feel giddy. "Good, huh?" Tim said more like a statement than a question. "God, that's great." Patty said. "I thought you'd like it." Tim said. He raised his head and drained his glass. They ordered another, finished it and ordered another. Soon they both had half a load on. Patty was really relaxed. He was wondering what kind of person was sitting across from him. Back at the unit they had called him burned out, but here in Inchon, and earlier in the village and at ASCOM, he had been dynamic. A real personality. It was like the difference between night and day. Patty wondered what made him tick. "Why do they call you Vitaman Tim?" Patty asked. Tim looked at him and smiled. A twinkle was in his eye. "it's like this, one day I was in the Yellow House with one of my girlfriends." Patty interrupted. " What's The Yellow House?" "The Yellow House my friend, is a five city block whorehouse not far from here. Sooner or later, maybe sooner than you think, you will visit The Yellow House." He said. "As I was saying', he continued, "I was in the Yellow house with this girl I saw occasionally, and some hits of speed fell out of my pocket as I was taking off my pants. The girl, not realizing, asked me what they were. I didn't want her to find out that I was doing speed, so I told her that they were vitamins. She asked me to write it down on a piece of paper. You see, every time she came across a new word, she made me write it down so she could study it. She was learning how to read English. Anyway, I wrote it down." "Later on in the day, she asked me how to spell my name. I told her how to spell it. That too, she asked me to write down, which I did. Later, one of my friends came over to the room to smoke a joint with me. He picked up the paper and read it. "Vitamin Tim" he said. He started laughing because I was known to indulge in speed. Well, to make a long story short, he started calling me Vitaman Tim. Some of the guys back at the Battery picked it up and started calling me that too. For awhile they called me "Vitaman" but mostly "Vitaman Tim". The name has stuck with me ever since. That's it." "Do you still use speed?" Patty asked. "Not so much anymore. It burns you out." Tim replied. "Can you get me some?" "Sure. Want some?" "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't." Patty said. Tim reached into his pocket and pulled out a small envelope. He reached inside and took out three white pills. These he slid across the table toward Patty. "Today I think I'll indulge." Tim said, and proceeded to pull a couple more out. He put them in his mouth, drank a mouthful of tea and swallowed. Patty did the same. They ordered another drink and then Tim decided that they had spent enough time at the frog. It was almost four in the afternoon, and they were both getting hungry. Tim suggested that they go down to the United Seaman's Service downtown, and eat before the speed took their appetites away. They took another cab. It was only a five minute drive. Patty was amazed at the size of the city. It was pretty drab of course, the buildings were all made of concrete stucco, and were mostly gray. The roads were all paved though, and the city had most of the modern conveniences. The United Seaman's Service was located in the harbor district. It was a small place with a sign done in English. Inside it was decorated with a nautical slant. Pictures of merchant ships, buoys and ropes hung on the walls. On the left was a bar. To the right was a dining area. Patty noticed immediately that the two waitresses were stunningly beautiful. The smell coming from the kitchen made Patty's mouth water. They were led to a small table, and the waitress, obviously flirting with Tim, asked them if they knew what they wanted. Tim ordered a steak with onions and mushrooms, and Patty did the same. They ordered a couple of beers, and shots of whiskey. Patty was feeling lightheaded. He realized that he was losing his appetite. He began to feel nervous and fidgety and started to sweat. "I think I'm starting to feel the speed." He said to Tim. "Yeah, me too." Tim replied. By the time the food arrived, they weren't hungry at all, but they attempted to eat anyway. The waitress came over to the table and wanted to know if there were anything wrong with the food. Tim told her that the food was fine. She told Tim that he should eat more and drink less. She said that he needed a woman to take care of him. Patty could see that she wanted to be that woman. Tim just grunted at her, and she walked away. "Don't you see that she likes you?" Patty asked. " Yeah, I know." "How come you don't ask her out or something?" "Because she is a good girl. If I wanted to get her into bed I'd have to promise to marry her, or at least he her boyfriend." He whispered to Patty. "So?" "So, if I hooked up with her, I'd never be able to do shit around here. She knows just about everyone, In fact the local gangsters around here would break my legs if they found out I was screwing her around. Her brother is the #1 gangster in Inchon." Patty let it drop. He wished that it was him instead of Tim that she liked. He would be glad to be her boyfriend. "Do you want me to introduce you to her?" Tim asked. "Yeah, guess so." Patty said, trying to act nonchalant. Meanwhile his heart was beating like a jackhammer. Tim caught her eye and waved her over. She started walking towards the table. Patty watched her as she moved across the room, sure that he had never seen a girl so lovely. She had a white skirt on that ran a little short, and Patty got a good look at her long well-formed legs. He noticed how gracefully she moved between the tables as she approached them. His gaze wandered to her chest, and he was surprised to see that she was blessed with firm ample breasts which struck him as a little strange for a Korean girl. They seemed to press at the sides of her loose fitting blouse made of a frilly cotton material. It was her hair that made Patty realize that she wasn't a full blooded Korean. It was brown, not black, with golden highlights which suggested that one of her parents had been a blond. As she stood at the side of the table Patty noticed that her eyes were blue. Patty was beside himself. He thought he had found an angel. "Miss. Im, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine, Patty Fallica." Patty, turning scarlet extended his hand. She took it and gave a light squeeze. "I pleased to meet you." She said. "I'm pleased to meet you too." Patty said, wishing he could think of something witty to say. "Patty's from New York, like me. " Tim said. "He thinks you are beautiful" He added. Patty wanted to sink under the table. "Thank you, Patty. I think you beautiful too. " She said. Turning toward Tim she asked him when he was going to so back stateside. Tim told her that he had a couple of weeks left. Miss Im seemed obviously upset by that information, and she turned and walked away toward the kitchen. Patty thought that she was going to cry. He felt badly for her. He wished that Tim would get up and follow her, but he seemed disinterested in the drama going on before him, of which he played a central character. "I know she likes you now." Patty said. "If I were you, I'd snatch her up before she knew it." "Well you're not me!" Tim said testily. Patty realized that he had touched a nerve. He was surprised to see that Tim reacted this way. Maybe, he thought, Tim wasn't as emotionally uninvolved as he thought he was. "Let's cutachogie." Tim said, leaving money on the table. They walked out of the door and into the street. Miss Im had not reappeared to say goodbye. A taxi pulled up at the curb as if by magic. Tim waved him away and motioned for Patty to follow him. They walked down the street for a few minutes, turning left into a side street. Tim led Patty down the side street far a few more minutes. The street eventually joined with a main street and Tim turned onto this. Patty was startled. The buildings were very well lit. Neon signs blinked out the names of bars, "The Top Hat Club"," The Black Cat"," The OB Club", and down at the end of the block... "Whiskey Mary's", with the brightest sign of all. Patty couldn't see any GI's like he did at K-6. It was just getting dark and the area wasn't really crowded. It seemed kind of quiet and peaceful. They walked up to the bar entered through swinging type doors. They reminded Patty of the old westerns. The inside reminded Patty of the same thing, except instead of cowboys seated around a round table in the corner, there were Koreans. It had an atmosphere. There was a pool table, just like in the bar he frequented in New York, except instead of the balls dropping into the holes and rolling down toward a collection shelf, they fell into nets. The people playing cards looked up as they entered the bar. A short Korean with a black leather jacket waved. "Hey Tim, you wanna pray cards?" He asked. "Jimmy, how many times I gotta tell you, people don't pray cards, they play cards." Tim quipped. The Korean laughed. "You pray someday Tim. Wait, I get rid of these idiots and we talk and drink, O.K.?" "That's why I came Jimmy. Get prenty fucked-up stinko." Tim said with a Korean accent. They sat by the wall near an old Hock-Ola jukebox. A girl came over and they ordered beer. Patty noticed that Tim was relaxing again. The speed they took made Patty feel a little hyped up but it didn't have the same effect as the stuff he had taken at home in New York. That was O.K. with him. He didn't want to get high as a kite, he just wanted to get a little buzz on. Tim got up and put some Korean coins into the jukebox. Led Zeppelin came through the speakers telling them that they had a whole lotta love. Patty tapped his fingers and feet in time with the music. Tim walked back to the table. "I remember when this song first came out." He said. "It drove the lifer's crazy. Back in Yoju all they had were country and western music. I slipped this in the jukebox and turned it up all the way. The bastards didn't know what to make of it. I think it scared them at first, you know, with all them zoomin' sounds and stuff. It was a pisser." Patty was glad that Tim was talking again. He wanted to party. One thing was certain in Patty's mind, he would never again bring up the subject of Miss Im. It just ruined Tim's conversational ability. Tim seemed to be on a roll. He told Patty about a time back in Yoju that he and a friend put on Jimmy Hendrick's Star Spangled Banner. The unit was holding retreat formation in front of the barracks. They turned the sound all the way up and when the music blared out of the speakers, the First Sergeant almost had a heart attack. He yelled toward the barracks to whomever had that "hippyshit" playing to turn it the hell off. Somebody yelled from in the formation that it was the National Anthem. He had to then, under military regulations, bring the company to attention and to salute. Tim told Patty that he laughed so hard that he fell on the floor. He didn't even get in trouble for it because they couldn't word the charges right. I mean what the hell he said, you can't court martial somebody for playing the National Anthem. Jimmy finished the game and walked over to their table. He was counting money as he walked. He had a big shit eating grin an his face. "You never lose do you Jimmy?" Tim said. "Nobody good card prayer like Jimmy." He replied. "You're not good enough to win all the time. Those guys are just afraid to beat you. Why don't you save them the trouble of playing cards and just make them give you the money?" Tim teased. "I not make those people lose." Jimmy said, feigning hurt feelings. "They lose all by themselves. "Then how come you don't go to the Olympus and play. You could make bigger bucks there." Tim countered. "They cheat at Olympus!" Jimmy said. "And I know how you hate cheaters Jimmy." Said Tim. " I buy drinks. " And with that Jimmy ordered three whiskeys. Over drinks Tim introduced Patty to Jimmy. Jimmy was impressed that he came from New York. Jimmy told Patty that he always wanted to go to New York. They had the toughest gangsters in the world there. He asked Patty if he was a gangster stateside. Patty was about to tell him that he wasn't but Tim kicked at him under the table and he caught himself and told Jimmy that yes, as a matter of fact he was a gangster. Jimmy asked him if that was why he had to join the Army. Patty told him that he was a very smart man. Yes, he told him. That was the reason. He had to get out of the country for awhile. "Tim too!" Jimmy exclaimed. "Now heat blow over and Vitaman go back, correct Vitaman?" "Correct, Jimmy." Tim said gravely. "Now I can go back and get the gang that killed my brother. "Tim go and fuck em up!" Jimmy said. "Tim numbah hanna gangster. "Jimmy numbah hanna gangster in Korea!" Tim said. They both raised their drinks to that, and Patty followed suit. They talked and drank for a few hours. Patty was high, but not really drunk. Between the excitement and the speed, he seemed to be able to drink like a pro. The conversation was like something out of a comic book. Tim would compliment Jimmy, and Jimmy would compliment Tim. Jimmy was the one that got plastered. He told Tim over and over that he was his numbah one chingo. He told him how if he ever needed anything, and he meant anything when he got to the states, that all he had to do was write to his friend Jimmy. Patty was itching to move on. The bar had filled up by now. He recognized some of the guys from the Unit. They must have been from another section though. The girls that were there didn't particularly catch Patty's fancy. He told Tim that he wanted to go somewhere else. They left the bar and headed out onto the street. It was transformed. People were everywhere. Sin was a big business all over the world and here in Inchon it was no exception. The honky tonks were all out to make an impression on the sailors of various nationalities. The neon signs and the music that crept onto the sidewalks beckoned them to come in and let their hair down. Girls walked between the bars in their short miniskirts, brazenly flaunting their wares. It was good to be alive Patty thought. Tim flagged down a taxi. Patty wanted to know why they were leaving. He really didn't want to leave he explained, he just wanted to get out of Whiskey Mary's. It was after 11 PM. Tim explained to Patty that they had to be off the street before curfew. "Are we going back to the compound?" "Were not going back there. The Vitaman doesn't sleep at the compound." Tim said drunkenly. "Where we going?" "Sit tight Newbee, you'll see. The taxi was picking up speed. The lights of the city became a blur through Patty's window. Traffic was fast at this time of night. Driver's were in a hurry to get to their destinations before curfew. Taxis were in more of a hurry than most, trying to get as many fares as possible before business came to an abrupt halt. This particular taxi driver seemed to be a distant cousin of Mario Andretti, dedicated to the Evel Kineval school of safety. The little Toyota he drove groaned and screeched as it took the corners on two wheels. The driver was like most others in the country. He hadn't the foggiest notion of what that pedal was next to the accelerator. Stop was a forbidden word in the Korean driver's manual. In this country the brakes were replaced by the horn. It was common custom to honk your way out of an accident. Patty was not amused. He gripped the back of the neat and peered over the drivers shoulder with his eyes wide open in horror. A couple of times he tried to scream as the taxi would pass another vehicle on a blind corner, but no sound would clear his fear constricted throat. A few times he managed to slap the back of the seat repeatedly as different threats loomed in the windshield. As hysterical as Patty was, Tim was just the opposite. He was stretched out with his head back, lolling from side to side as the taxi took the turns. They came to a screeching halt just as Patty was nearing hysteria, in front of a group of what looked like apartment buildings. Tim paid the driver. Patty opened the door and stepped out on wobbly legs. Tim came around the taxi and motioned to Patty to follow. They walked down a nondescript alley way that cut through the center of the complex. As they walked, Patty saw that each building had a larger picture window in front. Inside he saw to his surprise, that all of the rooms contained between three to fifteen girls, all dressed in either lingerie or evening clothes. As Patty stopped and stared at one of the windows, the girls giggled and blew kisses. A few beckoned him inside. He turned to look at Tim who wore a wide grin. "Pick one." He said. CHAPTER 19 Patty looked at the girls. The more aggressive ones were also the ugliest. He looked past them and saw a girl sitting along the side of the wall with her make-up case in front of her. She seemed oblivious to the goings on with the two Americans. Tim was busy talking to a well built older woman. They joked around like they knew each other. Patty couldn't make out what they were saying because they were speaking in Korean. Patty broke into the conversation and asked Tim how he could get the girl's attention. Tim said something to the girl he was with. A minute later he was following her up the stairs to the second floor. The corridors were narrow, with small doors that opened up to small one room apartments. It seemed that this building was built exactly to be what it was, a whorehouse. The girl stopped in front of one of the doors and slipped a key into a small padlock. She opened the door and motioned Patty inside. Fallica wasn't shy at this point, the booze had lowered his inhibitions and he was extremely aroused. She motioned him to the bed and Patty sat at the edge with his hands in his lap. The girl squatted in front of an old record player and put on an album. The sounds of Sam and Dave sinning "Soul Man" filled the small room. Patty looked around and saw that basically all it contained was a small stereo and a bed. There were a few pictures cut out from magazines of people. A few he recognize but most were Orientals. Elvis Presley was there. He saw a young Elizabeth Taylor. The rest were unknown to him. He took a good look at the girl who was now sitting cross-legged on the bed. She was young. Patty couldn't believe she was out of her teens. She had looked so much older sitting in the room with the other girls. Her expression was one of embarrassment and curiosity. Patty wanted to leave. He felt as if he was using this girl. He felt like the typical "Ugly American". "You speak English?" He asked. She smiled and shook her head. Patty rubbed his hand over his face and looked at the floor. She looked at him, her expression was now one of concern. "Cinchana." She said. Patty looked up at her. She was on her knees now, looking down at him. He thought she was going to cry. Patty was on the edge of panic. He felt so uncomfortable, so out of place. He didn't have any idea of what he was doing there. He wanted to find Tim and get back to the compound. The girl raised a finger and quickly left the room. Patty figured that she meant she'd be right back. He looked at his watch. It was almost one AM. It felt like an hour, but five minutes later the girl returned. Another girl was with her. This one was older, and frankly Tim thought, she looked like a slut. The new girl looked at Patty and giggled, Patty got irritated. Now he was embarrassed. He had no idea of what he was supposed to do. He felt like a monkey in a cage with these two girls looking at him. They both started talking to each other in Korean, sprinkled with excited giggles. Patty felt that they were laughing at him and flushed. The older girl stopped babbling and turned to Patty. "You no likee girl?" She asked. Patty was speechless. He had no idea of what to say. He just looked at her with a blank expression on his face. "You no likee, I stay with you." She told Patty. Patty took a good look at her. She was a little overweight, and seemed just a little drunk. Her make-up looked like it had been applied with a trowel and her eyes were bloodshot and red. Still, Patty thought, her breasts were bigger than any he had seen since arriving in this country. The girl saw where he was looking and slid across the floor toward him. She reached up and pulled Patty's face toward her. She whispered in his ear. "You likee big tits Cherry boy?" Patty was shocked. In spite of the situation he could feel himself getting aroused. He wanted this girl. He wanted her, but he didn't want to offend the other girl. The situation was unreal. Patty started to believe that he had entered the twilight zone. The young girl said something to Miss big-tits. She didn't look happy, in fact she looked down-right angry. Big-tits said something back to her and that didn't sound like happy talk either. Patty suddenly thought that there was going to be a fight;. Words Patty couldn't understand picked up in tempo and volume. The fat one looked like a witch now. She definitely did not look like anyone Patty wanted to sleep with. The other one though, looked absolutely beautiful. Her color was up and her back was straight. She looked almost regal. In contrast to the older girl's high pitched screams, she spoke firmly and seemed to measure her words. Even though Patty had no idea of what they were saying, he could tell that the older girl was being outclassed by the younger. Just at the moment that Patty thought one of them would swing, the door opened and an old lady walked in. The two girls stopped their argument immediately. The chubby girl bowed her head and looked at the floor, while the younger girl stared at her, eyes still blazing. Mama-san said a few words in Korean and the chubby girl left. Patty imagined himself watching a play. He couldn't understand the words, but he could figure out just what went on. He felt completely detached from the situation until mama-san spoke to him. "You want new girl"" She asked. "No. " Patty said. "How come you got problem?" "I don't know what to say to her." Patty replied. "You no have to talkee. You boom-boom. You know boom-boom?" And with the question she made an obscene gesture with her hands. Patty was mortified. He looked over at the girl and he could see that she was too. Her face was even redder than it had been during the argument. The old lady looked at the both of them and an understanding smile appeared on her face. "You first-time sleep with Korean girl?" She asked gently. "Yes." Patty lied. Well it was almost the truth, because he couldn't remember anything of the first time. He didn't even know if he had done anything. "This funny. This taksan funny." She said. "What's so funny'"' Patty asked. He didn't think it was so funny. "It funny because you cherry-boy. It more funny because she cherry-girl. Cherry-boy and cherry-girl go to boom-boom together. You cannot speakee to her, she cannot speakee to you. Nobody know how to say hello, nobody know how to boom-boom." She was laughing now. She turned her head and spoke to the girl. She was still laughing. The girl listened and a smile turned into small giggles at what the old lady was telling her. Soon both were wiping tears out of their eyes. Patty realized exactly what he had gotten himself into and started to laugh too. The tension eased out of his body and he found himself very comfortable in the presence of these two Korean ladies. The old lady said something to the girl and she left. Patty was hoping that she would be back soon. He was a little afraid that mama-san would try to put some moves on him. Mama-san had no such intention though and Patty's fears were short lived. "Her name is Miss Lee. First name hard for you. You call her yobo. Yobo mean darling in Korean. She bring tea for her. Whisky for you. You drink tea, and then you takee drink whiskey.. She takee off clothes, you takee off clothes. Go to bed. That's it. Oddaso." "Oddaso." Patty replied. "What's your name cherry-boy?" "Patty." The girl returned with a small tea pot and a bottle of Four Roses. She took a shot glass out of her pocked and poured Patty drink. She put it on the floor in front of him. She also poured a cup of tea for him and a cup for herself. Mama-san quietly left the room closing the door behind her. The girl reached up and ran a finger across Patty's cheek. "Epa." She said. "I don't understand." "Moohlah?" She asked. "Moohlah." Patty relied. She reached down and took Patty's hand. She took his finger and ran it across his cheek. "Epa." She said. She took his fingers and ran it across, her cheek. "Epa-ni''" She asked. Patty looked at her. She looked so pretty. She ran Patty's hand across her cheek again. "Epa-ni?" Patty ran his fingers along her cheek and down her neck. "Epa-ni." He said. She smiled. He smiled. They drank tea. Patty felt not the least bit self conscious anymore. They drank tea and Patty tossed back the whisky. Two or three times he tossed back the whiskey. He felt the warmth in his stomach and the warmth of the room. Suddenly he felt very relaxed. Relaxed and sleepy. The girl stood and pulled back the cover of the bed. She started to disrobe and Patty did the same. One thing troubled Patty though, he had to take a leak. He didn't know how to ask her where the bathroom was. Miss Lee got into the bed and motioned for Patty to lie down. He knew that once in the bed he would have to pee even more. He was drunk enough to ask her. "I got to take a leak." he said· "Moohlah." She relied. He started to get frustrated. He looked at her and tried again. "I got to pee." He said. "Pee? Moohlah." Patty knew he was going to have to try another way. He reached down to his crotch and made a hissing sound. She understood. The girl got up and reached under the bed. She pulled a small pot out from under it. She pushed it towards him. Patty looked down at the pot. He couldn't believe what she was asking him to do. It was bad enough pissing in the latrine with somebody using the urinal next to you. This was impossible, He couldn't piss into this thing with her standing next to him. "No way!" He said. "Moohlah." She replied. "I said no way. I can't do this. You've got to have a bathroom somewhere, I'd rather piss in the street." The girl looked at him. She got up and put on a robe. She slid a pair of rubber clippers that looked like canoes to him and she beckoned him to the door. Fatty followed. They walked down the hall and she pointer at a door. Patty went inside and saw to his relief, a commode in the corner. He used it and left. She was gone. He walked back towards the room. Patty made a left when he should have made a right. He walked down to the third door and opened it. The room was empty. He realized that he had made a mistake, this didn't look like her room at all. He walked back from where he had come. Passing the stairwell, a girl came into the hall. She was tall with long black hair and a red mini-skirt, She had a white blouse on that was unbuttoned in front. Her breasts jiggled as she walked. As she passed Patty she gave him a lewd look and patted his ass. Patty almost turned and followed her. She went into the room he had mistakenly thought was his. Next time, he thought. He passed the latrine and counted down three doors. He opened the door and saw that he was in the right room. The girl was in the bed. Patty hurriedly took off his shirt and pants and slid into the bed next to her. She was asleep. He thought of waking her but didn't have the heart. He also thought of going down the hallway and knocking on a particular door three doors from the latrine, but he didn't have the nerve. He thought about it awhile and drifted off to sleep.

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