When I served as the commander of the 305th Supply and Services Company in the 227th Maintenance Battalion At Yongsan, Seoul, Korea, the company passed several major tests and milestones. And the company picked up new missions without skipping a beat. One new mission that the company seemed to have inherited was a new concept called palletized delivery of rations forward in the combat zone. Another new mission that my company seemed to have inherited was a hot refuel mission along the East Coast of Korea. Resupply of fuel for that hot refuel site would have to be brought in by ship to the East Coast of Korea and then sling loaded and ferried via helicopter to the hot refuel site. The hot refuel site was to be co-located on a ROK (Republic of Korea) Army base. I asked my POL and hot refuel officer, Lieutenant Ted Hansen, if he were up to the challenge of running a third hot refuel point. He and his NCOIC in charge of the third hot refuel point were excited for the challenge. However, I could not say the same for my senior rater. But in a lot of ways, my senior rater was a lot like my stepfather. He could be a real Shithead sometimes. And most other times, he was just a general all-around prick. I always thought it was ironic that Lieutenant Hansen and my senior rater had the same first name. Maybe that was why my senior rater pawned him off on me. Maybe he didn’t like to be reminded of that fact. It’s sort of like my youngest brother bearing the same name and likeness of my stepdad. I wonder why his name wasn’t Dunce. Cuz he was always wearing a dunce cap in school, and he was as dumb as a box of rocks. My mom named all of my brothers, which is how they got their names. However, my real dad named me. Thus, I’m always right. Get it? Wright?!? Got it? Good. That’s right. I’m Wright! I am never wrong, so I find it funny that my brothers weren’t named Wrong, Incorrect, Not Right, and Totally Wrong, which is how my stepfather typically referred to them. The main reason that my stepfather could never call me one of those childish dumbass names was because, whenever we got into an argument, I would cite evidence out of encyclopedias to support my arguments. The idiot was basically uneducated, so he could never stand toe to toe with me in an argument. Oh sure. He would try. Cuz he did have a high school education. But I don’t know what the hell he studied. Maybe it was ancient basket weaving. Cuz he sure as hell didn’t learn a damn thing about anything else. Well, just when you think everything is going extremely well, you should be extremely guarded. Cuz some wild ass shit is about to strike you in the ass. That shit is going to blindside you. It’s going to hit you when you least expect it. And it’s going to come out of nowhere. It’ll start over some stupid little shit that you aren’t even aware was a cause for concern. Case in point. I had inherited another soldier from my senior rater. Go figure. I did mention that I was a dumping ground for soldiers that my senior rater didn’t want and that I had to rehabilitate. This soldier was Sergeant First Class (SFC) Goodwin. I inherited this soldier from the HHC Company, 501st Support Group. The 501st Support Group was the outfit that my senior rater commanded. Most of the castoffs that I inherited from my senior rater came from the HHC Company, 501st Support Group. SFC Goodwin was just the latest example. I didn’t get a specific reason why he was being passed to my company. I was just told that my senior rater no longer wanted him to be associated with his command. Thus, he was sent to the dump ground. Cuz that’s where you throw all of your garbage, your old junk, and your shit that you no longer want. And my company was apparently the dump ground. Yay. Oh yeah. SFC Goodwin came with the standard warning label. It was the same warning label that I had received when Lieutenant Hansen was cast off upon me. That warning label essentially stated that I was not to give SFC Goodwin any positions of leadership or trust. However, when my senior rater gave me (‘gave me’ is such a harsh way to describe how I received him) SFC Goodwin, he took two of my other NCOs. That’s a pretty fair trade, isn’t it? Two-for-one. It almost reminds me of that old song by the Beatles: “There’s one for you, nineteen for me.” That pretty much sums up how he thought. Well, I had a real problem with my headquarters platoon. The NCOIC in charge of the platoon wasn’t doing his job. So one evening, about two weeks after SFC Goodwin arrived in my company, I called him in. I said, “SFC Goodwin, please shut the door and sit down. I want you to level with me and tell me why Colonel Gross sent you down here to work in my company.” SFC Goodwin replied, “Sir, I don’t think you’re going to like it.” “You let me be the judge of that. Just tell me what in the hell happened.” “Well, Sir, it’s like this. The HHC Company Commander didn’t like me. We were out in the field on an FTX (field training exercise). The last night of the FTX, all of the NCOs were in a tent drinking and playing cards. But I was the senior NCO. When the shit came down, I was the one blamed for starting the drinking.” “Were you?” “Well, Sir. If you mean did I buy the booze, I guess I am guilty as charged. But if you mean did I start the drinking, no Sir. In fact, I suggested that we not drink until we got back to Garrison. However, the other NCOs didn’t want to wait. But when the shit storm started, they all said it was my idea. I think they did that to save their own asses. So, Colonel Gross gave me a field grade Article 15 and sent my ass here. But the other NCOs got off Scott free.” “That is some pretty low shit. Look. I have seen you stepping up and taking charge in the headquarters platoon. I need you to take over as the NCOIC of the headquarters platoon. I also need you to march the straight and narrow path. I ain’t going to take no shit off of you. However, I don’t hold grudges. I believe in giving every person a fair shake. You do me right, and I will do you right. If you don’t believe me, talk to Lieutenant Hansen.” “I believe you, Sir.” “Don’t blindside me like Colonel Gross did, and we will get along just fine.” “Got it, Sir. No blindsides.” “All right then. The headquarters platoon is yours. Get to work and fix it.” “Yes Sir.” “Dismissed.” Little did I know that my senior rater’s blindside action would come back to haunt me in a very serious way, and it would make me go through a stressful exercise in futility.
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