I previously posted about taking a boondoggle train ride from Taegu up to Seoul to visit the commander of the 227th Maintenance Battalion, while I served as the Chief of the Armament Maintenance Branch for the Deputy Chief of Staff, Matériel, 19th Support Command, Camp Henry, South Korea. The purpose of that trip was assumed to be a trip to discuss the M1 fielding project. Of course, it was not, and it turned out to be a colossal waste of time. I always enjoyed taking bullshit trips to kill time just for shits and giggles, so I just chalked that trip up to another exercise in futility. However, when I took the second train ride several months later to visit that same commander for another bullshit reason, I was not at all amused by the song and dance routine that I received. My tolerance level for drivel was running quite low. So, after I had received a heaping helping of their low-grade bullshit simmered in lukewarm drivel, I was only too happy to get the hell out of there and shake the dust off of my boots. Although, I am quite certain that my boots didn’t have any dust on them to start with. So, when the Chief of Staff of the 19th Support Command came sauntering into my office a couple of months later with the Commanding General, I thought they were just there to shoot the shit. Not that we had a lot of shit stacked up to shoot or anything like that. Cuz of course, we didn’t. But you know what I mean. The Chief of Staff was a shoot-the-shit kind of guy. But when he said, “Wright, I need you to get up to Seoul as soon as possible to talk to the Commander of the 227th Maintenance Battalion,” I am damn near certain that my jaw hit the floor because I was so dumbfounded. I was shocked, first, because we were under blackout conditions. It had rained the day before. And the rain had turned to snow. Overnight, the temperature had dropped considerably. And the rain that had fallen had frozen and put a nice layer of ice on all of the roads. That had caused officials to close all of the roads and declare blackout conditions. That meant nothing was moving on the ground. Not even the damn trains. I told the Chief of Staff, “But Sir, even if I wanted to go up to Seoul, I can’t. Cuz the goddamn roads are closed. And I sure as hell ain’t walking. Cuz screw me once, shame on me. Screw me twice, watch your ass. I ain’t even going to give that worthless twit Battalion Commander a third chance.” But then, the General said, “Wright, it is very important that you go up to Seoul and talk to that Battalion Commander.” I don’t believe that I had ever heard the Commanding General of the 19th Support Command use my first name in a conversation before. Captain Masters, sure. The Chief of the Armament Maintenance Branch, yeah. And later, the Matériel Readiness Officer as well. But he had never called me ‘Wright’ before. That was shock number two. Would wonders never cease? Apparently not, it seemed. A few minutes later, the General chimed in again, “Hell, blackout conditions do not apply to helicopters. I can just fly my bird up to Seoul and get authorization to land at the Eighth Army Joint United States Military Assistance Group-Korea (JUSMAG-K) helipad at Yongsan. I’ll fly you up there for your meeting with the Battalion Commander.” I had to ask, “Sir, is this meeting that important? I mean, really, all he did was feed me a line of bullshit the last two times that I was up there.” “Wright, do you think that I would waste my time flying you all the way up to Seoul on a joy ride just for shits and grins, if it weren’t important?” He had a point. That was a super shock. I think that one would have registered on the megawatt scale. Those other shocks were strictly minor-league. But when a General offers to fly a measly Captain around like he is hot shit, that is some super heavyweight shit. Obviously, that Battalion Commander had a hidden agenda. But it sure would be nice if that sonofabitch would share his hidden agenda with me. The General asked me if I was okay with riding on a helicopter. Shit! I had rappelled off of the skid of a flying helicopter before. I had flown on Huey UH-1 helicopters, Blackhawk UH-60 helicopters, and Chinook CH-47 helicopters. I had the most experience with the Huey helicopters, and that happened to be the one that the General was flying. I will admit that I froze my ass flying up to Seoul because it was as cold as Buffalo shit on the Prairie in the winter inside that bird. I’m pretty damn sure that it didn’t help that we had the doors open during the flight all the way up to Seoul. But I didn’t complain a bit. Riding in the Huey with the side doors open, even in the goddamn winter, is one of the most exhilarating experiences you’ll ever have, especially if you’re not getting shot at. And all of the frozen rice patties below us were in friendly territory. And we were one helluva long way away from hostile territory. Times were good. When we got to Seoul, the General set the bird down at the JUSMAG-K helipad and told me I was on my own to get over to the 227th Maintenance Battalion headquarters. He told me to just come back over to JUSMAG-K headquarters when I was finished. I called the Executive Officer at the 227th Maintenance Battalion to let him know that I was on my way over there. Fifteen minutes later, I was standing in the 227th Maintenance Battalion headquarters. As soon as I got there, the Executive Officer (XO) escorted me in to see the Battalion Commander. The Battalion Commander didn’t waste any time or mince any words. He started right in, “Captain Masters, I understand that you’re pretty upset with us. And I can’t say that I blame you. From your perspective, it appears as if we have jerked you around. Suffice it to say that we had our reasons. But I know that anything I will say to try to convince you will just end up sounding like more bullshit. So, here it is. Here is the real deal. I am going to lay it all out for you. The first time that I called you in here, we already had your full military personnel file. People all the way up the chain of command knew about our situation, and the assignments branch back in Washington, was briefed about the situation. They knew that we were looking for the right guy for a particular job. Not just any job, but a particular job. The first time we called you in here, we had a candidate on our staff who, as you said, deserved a shot at the command. We had to remove the incumbent. We did that and we put him in as the new commander. That was a huge mistake. The second time we looked at you, another major incident had just occurred in that unit. But we wanted to give our new commander a fair shake. However, the straw that broke the camel’s back was piled on the camel last week.” I interjected, “I don’t think I understand Sir. What do you mean, the straw that broke the camel’s back was piled on the camel?” “Simply this. Do you know what a 10K forklift is?” “Is that a rhetorical question? Of course, I know what a 10K forklift is. I thought you said that you had my entire military personnel file. If you do, you know that I am qualified to drive damn near everything with wheels on it. That means I actually had to drive that shit once upon a time.” “Just checking. I am also assuming that you know where it is supposed to be operated. I am also assuming that you know what the backup alarm is for. I also assume that you know that if it doesn’t work, the forklift is deadlined for a safety item.” “Is there a reason that you are trying to insult my intelligence?” “I am not trying to insult your intelligence. I am merely trying to make a point. Please bear with me. You did ask about the straw that broke the camel’s back. Anyway, the current commander took it upon himself to circle-X the forklift for the backup alarm, and he allowed his subordinates to operate that forklift inside a warehouse. The forklift operator who was operating the forklift was not licensed to operate a 10K forklift. While he was backing up with no ground guide and with an inoperable backup alarm, he ran over a warehouse worker and killed him. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Now you know the real deal. We told the current commander that he could go down easy, or he could go down hard, but he was going to go down.” “Okay. I don’t follow. What is the difference between going down easy or going down hard?” “Well the easy way would be for him to resign his commission and get out of the Army himself. The hard way would be for us to force a court-martial upon him and take him down hard. Here is the deal. You would be taking over the 305th Supply and Services Company. You would command approximately 445 U.S. and Korean soldiers, civilians, and local nationals spread out over 9000 square miles on nine military reservations. You would provide all classes of supply from cradle to grave except ammunition and medical supplies. You would be responsible for field services such as laundry and clothing exchange and bath, and you would operate the theater mortuary. You would operate two Central Issue Facilities, four Troop Issue Subsistence Activities, two Self-Service Supply Centers, a bulk petroleum storage facility, two attack helicopter hot refuel points, and a water purification detachment. We think you’re the guy for the job. What do you think?” “So that’s the real deal?” “Yep. Pretty much.” “Why in the hell couldn’t you just tell me that in the first place? Why did you have to give me all of that touchy-feely bullshit about my druthers? Obviously, my druthers didn’t mean a goddamn thing. Oh! That is slick. You were waiting for me to bite on your baited hook to see if I would feed you any bullshit about the 305th Supply and Services Company. That is damn slick. Sure. I heard rumors. But like I said before, I’m Ordnance. I know maintenance companies intimately.” “Well, do you think you can handle this job?” “What? A quarter-beggar job? Anything they can do; I can do three times better. No problem.” “Okay. The job is yours. We will be in touch.” Once I had received the real deal, I headed back over to JUSMAG-K headquarters contemplating whether I had just stepped into one helluva exercise in futility or not.
by 
by 
Pingback: Rub-a-dub-dub – An Ode to Military Humor – Springtime Folly – An Ode to Military Humor
Pingback: Roasted – An Ode to Military Humor – Springtime Folly – An Ode to Military Humor