When I served as the Chief of the Armament Maintenance Branch for the Deputy Chief of Staff, Matériel, 19th Support Command, Camp Henry, South Korea, my first major project was the fielding of the M1 tank for United States Forces Korea (USFK), Eighth United States Army (EUSA), and the 2nd infantry division. That project kept me busy pretty much nonstop. In fact, it is safe to say that I spent three out of every four weeks out on the road traveling. The traveling was done for the purpose of conducting site visits, as I have previously mentioned. However, the site visits weren’t always about work and work only. Oh, hell no. Cuz if they were, I would just have to quit and get into another line of work. But I didn’t. I also mentioned posing as a Stars & Stripes reporter on some of those site visits whenever I ran into Olympics athletes from other countries. That worked out pretty well until one trip when I noticed that I had a tail following me everywhere I went. That tail was like a goddamn shadow that I just couldn’t shake. You know how your shadow is. Your shadow shows up anytime there is ambient light, and it can give your location away if you are not careful. The only way you can make your shadow disappear is by ducking into the shadow of a much larger object or by ducking inside a dark building away from the light. But suppose you are hiding in a dark building to conceal your shadow and God shows up and says, “Let there be light.” And miraculously, the light turns on. Suddenly, you’re screwed, especially if that mysterious tail is still out there looking for you. No. I am not talking about the swish, swish, wag, wag, type of tail. That’s the kind of tail you would find on a four-legged critter. Well, maybe even a two-legged critter. But certainly not a human. Well, except maybe in a science-fiction tale. Then you might find a tail on a human. No. The kind of tail I’m talking about is the kind of tail that they talk about it in private investigation books and TV shows and in cloak and dagger suspense stories. Okay. Go ahead and ask. You’re going to anyway. How did I know that I had a tail? See. It happened like this. Well, if it didn’t happen like this, it should have. Anyway, while I was on one of my site visits, I happened to be in Itaewon Dong, Seoul. So, I wandered over to the King Club. In my guise as John Wilson, Stars & Stripes reporter, I struck up a conversation with a few people in the bar. That’s when I noticed an individual ever so subtly inch closer to me and pretend to nonchalantly drink his beer and look around the bar. However, what he really seemed to be doing was eavesdropping on my conversation. At the time, I didn’t really pay much attention to what he was doing. But I did notice that he appeared to be eavesdropping on my conversation all the same. I’ll tell you why. Once upon a time when I was just a young Lieutenant, I had worked for this crusty old Colonel who had been a commander in Vietnam. His personal pet peeve was soldiers who did not pay attention to their surroundings and who did not have their “pay attention eyes and ears on.” I personally think he had a real bad case of OCD (Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder), but that is neither here nor there. He drilled that shit into us all of the goddamn time. He would walk around saying, “Put your pay attention eyes and ears on and keep them on.” That usually preceded an episode of jump-into-your-shit-itis. Jump-into-your-shit-itis was orchestrated madness that he perpetrated upon the lower ranking soldiers in his command designed to run them ragged. By the way, it worked. Anyway, as I was saying, I didn’t pay much attention to my tail at the time, but I was aware that he was there. It was kind of like a situation where you are out in the woods and you notice a rattlesnake. You aren’t bothering Jake the snake, and old Jake ain’t bothering you. Jake is just laying off over there about 10 or 15 feet away. In fact, Jake the snake hasn’t even curled up in a defensive posture. In other words, Jake doesn’t feel threatened. And neither do you. However, you would be prudent to monitor the activity and whereabouts of good old Jake because it’s in your best interests. Failure to do so could result in dangerous repercussions. So, I had a couple of beers and then I left the King Club. I wandered up the hill to another bar. But as I did so, I noticed that my tail was attempting to surreptitiously shadow me. I thought to myself, “Self, that is really odd. Why is that guy doing such a poor job of sneaking around behind me? Perhaps I’ll have to lose him only to catch him and find out.” So, I quickly turned the corner and ducked in between two buildings and hid in the shadows. Then, I waited for my tail to come along behind me. Sure enough. My tail came rushing by where I was hiding a minute or two later frantically searching for me. I came up behind him and asked, “Are you looking for me?” My tail jumped with surprise and spun around. He stuttered, “Nuh, no. I seem to have gotten lost.” “Of course you did. No man. I don’t think you got lost. But I do think you did lose something, or should I say someone. Me. Why were you tailing me?” “I wasn’t tailing you.” “You know, if you bullshit the Baker, you might get a bun. If you bullshit me, you won’t get none. Here is what I think. I think you’re in a military intelligence unit. Now there’s a real oxymoron, military intelligence. Cuz we all know that you don’t have any. Intelligence I mean. Quick, tell me, why were you following me. I won’t tell on you. I promise.” “Well, you see, we checked and there is nobody named John Wilson working for Stars & Stripes as a reporter. So, I was supposed to get close to you and find out how many languages you really know and what country you’re really from.” “I see. It’s spies like you that give spies like you a bad name. Did you think I was just going to start singing the answers? I spotted you from a mile away. All of those Olympic athletes thought I was an Olympic athlete. So, I had to tell them something. Guess what? They all bought my story hook, line, and sinker. But that’s all it was, just a story.” “Well, who do you work for?” “Sorry, man. That’s classified. It’s need-to-know, and you don’t need to know. But if you keep harassing me, I’m going to have to report this whole incident to your supervisor.” “Well, can you at least tell me your name?” “What? Are you deaf too? I already did.” “No. You told the athletes that your name was John Wilson. You said you were a reporter for the Stars & Stripes.” “Okay. I may have flowered the truth a little with regard to my occupation, but I told the athletes my name.” “So, your name really is John Wilson?” “Man, I’m surprised they even let you outside to play. I have to go now. Please try not to embarrass yourself further and stop following me.” With that I left the inept counterintelligence agent. I had a funny feeling that he had stumbled upon an exercise in futility when he started to tail me.
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