Under the Camp Water Tower Korea

Camp Long, Wonju Korea
Camp Long, Wonju Korea
MP Station
MP Station

Starting From the Top...

Night made the climb to the top of Camp Long's water tower a tedious task. Major Taylor and I had decided to take our bottle of bourbon onto the top and stare out over our work, a small medical clinic, and into the lights of Wonju, Korea.

The city lights seemed to smear red over the horizon. We passed the bottle between us with large gasps of air as the alcohol took our breaths away. We started drinking in Osan that morning, some six hours away. We drove to Osan with a friend of ours in CID, drank at a few bars, and drove back to wonju and bought a bottle of bourbon.

"Would you be able to kill a man?" I asked Major Taylor loudly.

"It's part of our job description." he replied as he took a large swig from the bottle.

"I don't think I could." I grabbed the bottle and took a swig myself.

"I would much rather be making molds of teeth. You would kill me if I was trying to kill you." Major Taylor looked over at me and gestured for the bottle.

"You are starting to look like a North Korean, which is odd being that you are a dentist." I stammered.

"Well you are starting to look like a piece of shit!" Major Taylor stood up to his full height and pressed the bottle firmly to his chest.

"Sit down Major!" I stood up myself and pretended to put on an air of brutal majesty.

"Who are you talking to Sergeant!" Major Taylor rushed me, to take an imaginary stab at my heart, and his foot slipped.

I reached my hand out to grab his, yet could only manage to lightly touch his fingertips before he fell from the water tower to the darkness of the ground below.

Things are Only Slightly Broken...

I stood in the Military Police Station and stared down at my hands. They seemed like the same hands that I had before only a little more callous. The lines took on a deeper contour and my fingers seemed thicker and full of purpose.

"Sergeant Moore, you are free to go."

"Go where." I asked as I sat up from the hard plastic chair that I had sat on all night.

"I don't give a fuck! Out of this office! Out of my sight!" The Military Police Officer took his paperwork and stomped away from his desk to go into the backroom.

I shuffled through the front door and took a cigarette out of my pocket to smoke. My hangover applied pressure behind my eyes as I closed them and looked on into the shade of blue that bruised my eyelids.

Tomorrow was another day and our unit was no longer going to take a slight rest and relaxation period. I had to check out my M16 from the armory, pack up my field bag, and stop by the Cantina to drink a few drinks. My legs felt as if they would fall off. Major Taylor survived his fall with a broken leg, but tomorrow we had to train. I may have to pretend to save lives like the Army sent me to school to do, or I may have to pretend to take lives.

Somehow I had lost the choice of whether killing was a moral act. My country explained to me the necessity of killing in case of an emergency. We were told to understand that their idea of what an emergency was, was much different from ours. We were told not to think about it because they had committees of politicians who felt that death would be the only way to move our country, and the world, into the future.

A Day in the Life...A Field Problem...

The rain in Korea had not stopped for five days, like the way things were in Monsoon seasons. Our unit was right in the middle of a field problem that required we get up at 4:00 every morning to run guard. This meant we had to lie on the wet grass along the perimeter of our camp with full chemical gear. The wetness and the cold seemed to seep into my skin until it became a permanent part of me.

The rest of the morning we trained in full chemical gear. We ran a medical decontamination site for all incoming soldiers. At around noon our unit packed up and marched out to the range. The rain continued to fall and the temperature dropped to where our breath froze into frost as it left our mouths. We held our M16's and waited in attention to crawl into our assigned foxholes facing a 300-meter target.

I sat within my foxhole and placed my M16 toward my target. The wind blew cold rain into my eyes and caused my eyes to blur. My finger trembled in the cold as I held onto the weapon's trigger waiting for the signal. Without my knowledge the trigger clicked and fired a round. The range sergeant ran down the middle of the range and grabbed my M16 from my hand releasing my clammy cold grip from the rifle.

"Damn it Soldier, don't fire until we say it is time. You almost killed me! Get out of that foxhole and assume the position."

Back to Saving Lives...

Snow had begun to fall over Korea. All the buildings were covered with what seemed to be at least a few feet of snow. We walked to and from the dining facility from the clinic in our issued cold weather gear. Today was Saturday and I planned to sleep in as long as possible.

At about 0600 my walkie talkie began to wake me from my wanted sleep. I rolled out of bed and fell over my bedstand reaching for my walkie talkie. When I finally had a grip on it, I hit the send button.

"What the hell are you waking my up for! I screamed into the receiver.

"Oh you are awake. Good. We have a First Sergeant here having a good old fashioned heart attack."

"No shit. I'll be there in seconds." I flew up to my closet and put on my BDU's and my cold weather gear. I stopped in my bathroom to quickly brush my teeth and ran outside to face the snow and cold.

The sky was filled with large fresh flakes of snow. Each flake that fell on my poncho stuck. I could feel the weight of the snow hold my head down as I walked quickly as I could over the packed snow to the clinic.

I threw open the door of the clinic and stomped in to break all the snow from my boots.

"In here!" I heard Captain Bryants loud southern voice come from the Emergency Room.

I ran as quickly as I could into the E.R. off the the right of the entrance.

A soldier was lying on the E.R. table with his shirt thrown open.

"Shit, Sergeant. Stand back I'm going to hit this guy with a thousand. Screw the flash charts. All Clear!"

I backed away to the side of the Emergency Room. I saw Captain Bryant take the paddles and place them onto the First Sergeants chest. Within what seemed to be seconds the First Sergeant sat up and punched Captain Bryant in his face.

"What the fuck are you trying to do? Trying to kill me!" Screamed the First Sergeant at the top of his lungs. Suddenly his face began to deflate and his complexion turned grey. He laid back down on the E.R. table.

"Get a Helicopter Evacuation to Yongsan, Sergeant. Call for back up and get him out of here quick. This Sergeant needs some serious cardiac care. Oh, and find me my can of chew." Captain Bryant walked pass me and touched me lightly on the shoulder. "And Sergeant go get some sleep."

Some Serious Thinking...

I sat with a bottle of vodka, in our medical clinic in Wonju Korea, after the lights had been turned off. It was Christmas and I had just got off the phone with my parents in Reno. This was my last month in the service and I picked up an American Highway's Atlas from the top of my desk. I decided to move to Montana, so I flipped through the Atlas to Montana.

I took my finger, closed my eyes, and placed it on the map. Great Falls Montana was where I decided to move and spend my army money. I stood up and turned off the lights to my office and began to walk in the dark to the front entrance. I could see the window of the front door light up from ambulance lights flickering outside. I heard the siren and decided to turn the lights on for the emergency if it came my way. As I turned the lights on Captain Jones came plowing into the room with Sergeant Karston. They told me that the ambulance had picked up an overdose patient and they needed help.

I immediately sobered up and offered my assistance. We ran outside and pulled a young female private out of the ambulance on a stretcher and ran her into the clinic. Inside the Emergency Room Captain Jones quickly began a gastric lavage down her throat. Once the tube was in place he poured a small bottle of activated charcoal. All at once the soldiers stomach contents shot out of the tube as if water from a hose. The tube began to gyrate under the pressure of the stomach contents and sprayed everything.

We were able to stabilize her and carry her to the helipad located outside the south entrance for evacuation. We loaded her onto a helicopter shortly after it landed and sent her to the military hospital in Yongsan. Sergeant Karston and I sat on the helipad covered in black stomach contents and smoked cigarettes.

"Do you think that after all the things we have seen catch up to us we are really going to care?" Sergeant Karston took a drag on his cigarette.

"I hope so."

This is dedicated to closing of the M.A.S.H unit that the show was based on.
This is dedicated to closing of the M.A.S.H unit that the show was based on.

More by this Author


Comments 19 comments

tobusiness profile image

tobusiness 5 years ago from Bedfordshire, U.K

wow....And i thought you were just a gentle soul who love the written words and a cup of coffee, voted up need to read again later.


jhamann profile image

jhamann 5 years ago from Reno NV Author

Thank you tobusiness I was a little worried at my first hub attempt at short fiction, I hope it was entertaining.


ThoughtSandwiches profile image

ThoughtSandwiches 5 years ago from Reno, Nevada

jhamann...

I agree with 'tobusiness' ...I will be voting all the appropriate Up buttons. I am glad to see you stretch your wings...I look forward to more!

Thomas


jhamann profile image

jhamann 5 years ago from Reno NV Author

Thank you Thomas.


snakeslane profile image

snakeslane 5 years ago from Canada

This is very good jhamann, quite a departure from your poetry, but now I see actually informs some of what I've read. Good write! Regards, snakeslane


jhamann profile image

jhamann 5 years ago from Reno NV Author

I am leaving little bread crumbs.


snakeslane profile image

snakeslane 5 years ago from Canada

I should have done a better 'critique'. I am a bit lazy. I do like your short fiction. You make it look quite effortless when I know too well that is the hardest kind of writing to do. This is not a genre (war) that I would normally pick up and read jhamann, although of course the Hemingway and the William Faulkner can take you to hell and back and it's ok. So, yes, I am enjoying this, thank you very much for putting it out there. Regards, snakeslane


jhamann profile image

jhamann 5 years ago from Reno NV Author

I am a bit lazy too. Thank you for the critique though I appreciate it. I hope to move away from the war genre and enter into other realms. It is pretty hard to write short fiction, harder than poetry for me.


phdast7 profile image

phdast7 4 years ago from Atlanta, Georgia

Jamie - First time I ave read anything like this. It is very,very good. I think your poetry is good, but your prose may actually be stronger. Do you have a decided preference between the two? Lots of votes and Sharing. ~~Theresa


jhamann profile image

jhamann 4 years ago from Reno NV Author

Thank you for the compliment on my prose being stronger, this and "The Brown Bus" are close to my heart. I prefer poetry but it is a close race. Jamie


Eric Flynn profile image

Eric Flynn 2 years ago from Providence, Rhode Island

Nice tone, honest, raw.... Wonderful question at the end, a question in which either answer is a grim reflection of the pain of war.

EWF


cam8510 profile image

cam8510 2 years ago from Columbus, Georgia until the end of November 2016.

What a story, Jamie. I wish I could relate, but alas, I turned 18 at the end of the draft in the 70s. By that time, Viet Nam had cooled off. Thanks for this bit of a glimpse into the lives of those who protect us. There is no glamor is there? Voted up.


tillsontitan profile image

tillsontitan 2 years ago from New York

So you're saying this is fiction? It was so very real. I could feel the cold air and the shivers down my spine as the poor Sergeant met with each new catastrophe! Great job my friend.

Voted all but funny!


whonunuwho profile image

whonunuwho 2 years ago from United States

Very moving and well done my friend. whonu


jhamann profile image

jhamann 2 years ago from Reno NV Author

Thank you Eric, cam8510, tillsontitan, and whonunuwho for leaving such wonderful comments. I hope you had a wonderful weekend. Jamie


christinemariezzz 2 years ago

Jamie,

I was never in combat, but the intermittent dialogue in this piece is attractive, it helps me to feel the experience of what you are writing about. I am fond of conversation, and it works well, giving me greater understanding of the time. It brought me back to my childhood.

My father was in the Korean War. One photograph, held in our hands together, kept his story alive...your photographic choices enlivened your narration for me as well...especially the closing three...as Dads photo was sepia-like, no color, he was shaving with a hand razor. Again, Thank you for posting!

christinemarie


jhamann profile image

jhamann 2 years ago from Reno NV Author

Thank you for reading christinemarie. I am pleased to hear that the dialogue worked. Dialogue is difficult to pull off some times. I also feel that if the story was bringing back memories of place and time, then the writer has been successful. Thank you for your wonderful comment. Jamie


christinemariezzz 2 years ago

In my fondness for Dialogue In Writing: , i persist to say further, I am working on some pieces...dialogue only...trying not even to prompt the reader with names before the speech...onemonepia works well in these cases...especially in our age of silent communication over e mails, text, and the like...dialogue in written works is like a dance on the page...especially if one can pull it off in a flash ( least amount of words) it's fun!


jhamann profile image

jhamann 2 years ago from Reno NV Author

Interesting idea with the onemonepia and dialogue, I am excited to read your new work and excited to think a little on the above mentioned. Have a great day! Jamie

    Sign in or sign up and post using a HubPages Network account.

    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    No HTML is allowed in comments, but URLs will be hyperlinked. Comments are not for promoting your articles or other sites.


    Click to Rate This Article
    working