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. My company also started to receive recognition for some of its unit programs such as its unit supply and maintenance programs. My mess hall was also drawing a lot of attention. The mess hall had standing room only for all three meals, seven days a week. My mess Sergeant, Sergeant First Class (SFC) Ward, had made several improvements to the menu so that he could offer a steamship round once or twice every two weeks. During all of our meals, he was offering premium entrées, and we had live mood music to go with the meals. The mood music was furnished as a result of volunteers playing a baby grand piano that we had put into the mess hall to improve the overall ambience. After word started to spread about the mess hall, we started to attract very senior commanders and general officers who wanted to dine at our mess hall. We established one table that was reserved just for flag rank officers. We even had Republic of Korea (ROK) Army Generals and senior officers coming to dine at our mess hall. It wasn’t long before the Battalion Commander started to put a bug in my ear about nominating our mess hall for the Department of the Army Philip A. Connelly Award for Food Service Excellence. It took a lot of convincing, but the First Sergeant and I talked SFC Ward into preparing the mess hall for the application process. SFC Ward became my new son, in a sense, during that entire process. I had to constantly motivate, prod, cajole, coax, threaten, and kickstart SFC Ward during each step along the way. There were many nights that I spent with SFC Ward going over required paperwork and administrative tasks required for the submission process. Some nights, we would work the process and discuss next steps while we lifted weights in the gym. SFC Ward kept insisting to me that he was working on his TMF (total muscle failure) weightlifting program. Well, whatever. I seriously thought that his TMF was a total bunch of bullshit, but I never said anything to him. I just let him believe that he had a good workout regimen. I mean seriously, as long as Arnie didn’t show up unannounced, who would be the wiser? Sure. There were some real competitive weightlifters. But most of those guys did their training over at the Eighth Army gym. I didn’t like to go into that gym because too many of the guys there were too busy standing in front of the mirrors flexing and drooling all over themselves with admiration. Maybe you’ve been in a gym and seen guys like that? If you have, you will know exactly what I am referring to. One day, a team of people showed up in business suits and asked to see the mess Sergeant and the commander. They were a team of inspectors representing the Connelly award for the 19th Support Command. We had not received any correspondence indicating that a team of inspectors was going to show up, so we weren’t expecting them. However, SFC Ward had everything under control. The noon meal was in high gear when the inspectors arrived. SFC Ward asked them if they wanted to eat. One inspector took him up on his offer and went through the mess line. The rest of the inspectors started to inspect various different aspects of the dining facility operations. At various different points throughout the inspection, the lead inspector made one comment over and over again. He said, “This dining facility is very good.” He did not use the descriptive words excellent, outstanding, or superior. He only used the descriptive words ‘very good’. What in the hell did ‘very good’ mean? What was the difference between ‘very good’ and ‘excellent’ or ‘very good’ and ‘outstanding’? I didn’t have a clue, and quite frankly, I was more than just a little curious, what in the hell the difference was. But then, my mess hall was named the winner of the Connelly award for the 19th Support Command. A couple of months later, the same team showed up again. However, this time they were representing the Eighth United States Army Connelly award. Again, only one of the inspectors ate the meal at the mess hall. The lead inspector asked me how it was that we could support the music in the mess hall? I told him that we did it by using volunteers that knew how to play the piano. Then, he asked me where I got the piano? I informed him that I reclaimed it out of the PDO (Property Disposal Office). His response to me was, “Very good.” Again throughout the inspection, he used that comment, ‘very good’ several times to describe his observations. What was it with him and the phrase ‘very good’? At the end of the inspection, the lead inspector and his team said they would be in touch. About a month after that, I received word down through channels that my unit had won the Eighth United States Army Philip A. Connelly Award for Food Service Excellence. I was further informed that the Eighth Army Chief of Staff would be coming down to my mess hall to present the award in person to my mess Sergeant. On the day that the Eighth Army Chief of Staff came down to present the award to SFC Ward, it was truly a Kodak moment. The general gave us a little speech, then he presented the award. When he presented the award to SFC Ward, SFC Ward shook the hand of the Chief of Staff with his right hand and saluted the general with his left hand right as the photographer snapped the picture. Like I said, a Kodak moment. Even the general got a chuckle out of that one. But that little fiasco didn’t keep us from getting the Connelly award, and it certainly didn’t put us into a serious exercise in futility.
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