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. In the evenings, when I was working out in the gym with my buddies, my wife would have me sort of babysit the kids while she took time to unwind with her friends. That was cool because my kids and my weightlifting buddies’ kids would generally play together right outside the gym. As a result, we could keep a collective eye on them. Over time, as I worked out with my weightlifting buddies, conversation gradually migrated toward conversation of running in the ‘Hash’. Of course, talking about the Hash and those Hash Runs is a very weak substitute at best for actually experiencing the Hash firsthand. For so long, I let negative opinions and stereotypes that I had formed in my mind about the Hash keep me away from actually experiencing the camaraderie that I came to enjoy while running with my fellow Hash House Harriers. My inaugural run was with the Yongsan Kimchi Hash House Harriers. I continued to run with that chapter the entire rest of the time that I was in Korea. I even introduced my daughter to the Hash with that chapter. The tradition in the Yongsan Kimchi Hash House Harriers chapter was to name hares with their Hash name after their seventh run. Since the use of real names at Hash events was generally discouraged, all hares eventually received a Hash name. They were typically given a Hash name in reference to some notorious stunt that they had pulled during a run or for a personality trait that they exhibited or for their personal appearance. And the names are usually something stupid or unusual. Take my Hash name, for example. On the day that I was to be named, an incident occurred during the Hash run. Some protesters blocked the sidewalk down which we were running. The sidewalk was adjacent to a very busy narrow street, so we were forced to use the sidewalk. The protesters cleared a path for most of the Hash runners. But they made an exception for me. They held their ground and would not move. Thus, I set my shoulder like a fullback carrying a football and plowed through the line, knocking down two of the protesters. Later, during the naming ceremony, my friend running with me told the story of me plowing through the protesters and knocking them down. During the call for suggested names, a winning candidate seemed to be the Hash Blaster. But another hare offered a suggestion telling the story that he had taken college classes with me (total bullshit, I had never met the guy before in my life) and said that I was very political and could spin it well with the professors. The suggested name was, of course, Shitting Bull (just like his story). Naturally, I was given a choice of which of the names I wanted. I could either choose Hash Blaster or Shitting Bull. Obviously, I chose Hash Blaster. Bad choice. As it was explained to me, you never get what you choose, so I was named Shitting Bull. However, I could not deny that the name fit. So, I wore it well. And from that day forward, I became known as Shitting Bull, and I certainly had no exercises in futility while wearing that name.
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