Well, my days serving as the Commander of the 305th Supply and Services Company in the 227th Maintenance Battalion At Yongsan, Seoul, Korea, had come and gone. And my fantastic vacation to the island of Guam with my family had also come and gone. It’s funny how time flies when you are having fun. And it is also funny how time seems to drag on and on when you are doing something boring and mundane. If you recall my final act commanding the 305th, you will remember that I invited three general officers to my change of command. In fact, five general officers actually showed up for my change of command, three US Army general officers and two Republic of Korea Army generals. One of the three generals, the General Officer in charge of the Eighth United States Army G4 showed up because I was going to be working for him immediately after I left command and returned from Guam. Well, going by my more recent adventures, you should know that I had subsequently started working at the Eighth United States Army G4 and that the general that I went there to work for subsequently departed for a new assignment in the United States. Then the newly assigned general in charge of the Eighth United States Army G4 tried to whip all of us into shape with his new get-tough, physical training program and promptly died of a heart attack while demonstrating to us how out of shape we were. Things had then settled back down to a dull roar here at the Eighth United States Army G4. We were gearing up to take part in the Combined Forces Command (United States Forces Command, Republic of Korea Forces Command) exercise Ulchi-Focus Lens. The exercise was originally created by the Combined Forces Command in order to enhance ROK-US interoperability by training commanders and staffs from both nations in wartime planning, command-and-control operations, intelligence, logistics and personnel procedures necessary for the successful defense of the Republic of Korea. I know. I know. All of that sounds like a bunch of mumbo-jumbo. And it is. Basically, it’s an excuse for a bunch of military people to go on temporary duty to Korea for two weeks on a boondoggle. Basically I gave you all of the important highlights of the exercise while speaking of my 12 hour night shifts previously. While I was on the staff of the Eighth United States Army G4, I also had time to relax and spend more personal time working out and relaxing with my family. Additionally, you may also have read about my escapades while running in the Hash. However, I am not going to discuss any of those things in this post. The focus of this post is on my son who was very quickly earning himself a reputation as Trouble with a (capital) “T.” My son’s less than illustrious reputation began to take shape while we were still living in our apartment at Suseong Heights, Taegu, Korea. While my wife and I were attending a performance of the ballet, my daughter and son were being watched by our neighbor. During the course of the evening, my toddler son somehow managed to take out the sliding glass door window to the balcony and shatter it into a gazillion pieces as if it was some cheap glass that had been dropped from about 100 feet onto concrete. Now, what you got to understand about that feat is that we were living on the fourth floor of that apartment building at the time of that little stunt. The glass itself was half-inch thick storm glass, and there was a railing around the balcony. And of course, the railing kept my dumbass son from falling to his death, but that’s not the point. The point is Trouble with a (capital) T managed to smash right through that window as if it was water. How in the hell could a toddler do that?!? I sure as hell couldn’t figure it out. And the amazing thing was that the little bastard didn’t even get a scratch on him. Unfortunately, the window wasn’t quite so lucky. Fast-forward to Seoul, Korea, where we were living in an apartment at Hannam Village. My son and daughter went swimming practically every day during the summer because it was so hot. Well, leave it to Trouble with a (capital) T to pull another grand stunt. I don’t know if he had been watching professional diving on TV or if he had been watching Olympic diving on TV or if he had just been watching other kids diving in the pool at Hannam Village? But one day, he got it into his mind that he could dive off the edge of the pool like everybody else. But hold on a minute. Not only did he get it into his mind that he could dive off the edge of the pool. But he decided that he could dive off the edge of the pool backwards. Now, he couldn’t have been more than three or four at the time. And he sure as hell hadn’t been taught any diving skills, much less any backwards diving skills. Thus, I don’t know where in the hell he got the idea that he could suddenly dive. But sure as hell, Trouble with a (capital) T attempted a backwards dive and promptly bashed his chin on the concrete edge of the pool and started bleeding like a sieve. Naturally, the alarm was sounded and I was called home for the emergency. And we promptly rushed Trouble with a (capital) T off to the hospital to get patched up. Needless to say, my son managed to cause more than one significant exercise in futility during our stay in Korea.
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