Posted By Russ Emerson on February 7, 2006 at 9:33 am
Michelle Malkin notices certain people who won’t stand — stand up for free speech, stand up against intimidation.
Of course, they aren’t really Men in any meaningful sense, nor are they really of the West.
Posted By Russ Emerson on February 6, 2006 at 12:18 pm
When I was a somewhat younger man — pretty much still a kid, really — I decided on a military career.
There was no single reason for that decision; rather, it was the product of the cumulative influences on my life up to that point.
That my grandfather had been a soldier played no small part in my decision, but other factors encouraged the idea.
I enrolled in JROTC in high school — a move guaranteed to make me unpopular in the years following Vietnam. I went off to college to continue with ROTC, but dropped out due to my extreme dislike of going to school.
After a couple of years of working hum-drum jobs and trying (unsuccessfully) to get re-enthused about the idea of college, I finally did what I ought to have done in the first place: I enlisted in the Army. I did so with the full intent to make a career of it, to stay in uniform as long as Uncle Sam would have me.
Naturally, after basic training I was sent off to school. This, however, was language school, for which I seem to have had some real talent. After a year of Basic Korean (graduating with honors, thankyouverymuch) and nine more months of Military Intelligence training, I finally ended up at my first permanent duty station, the 102nd MI Battalion, 2nd Infantry Division, at Camp Hovey in Korea.
Duty in the 2nd ID was considered a hardship tour; unlike duty in Germany, soldiers couldn’t bring their families, or cars, or indeed much of anything. Consequently, assignments were for only one year. I found that I enjoyed the duty there, though, and extended my tour by a year, and then by an additional six months. While in Korea, I reenlisted for an additional six years. I knew my decision to be a “lifer” was the right one. I could imagine no other life. I earned my Sergeant’s stripes in Korea, as well.
Eventually, though, I wanted to come back stateside for a bit of a “civilization break” — not that Korea was uncivilized, but it just wasn’t America. As I was making my plans to return, Iraq invaded Kuwait. Transfers were frozen… but my timing was good — the freeze began two weeks after I left the 102nd.
Being a Korean linguist in a unit (107th MI Bn, 7th ID) tasked for rapid deployment to Korea meant there was no chance I’d be sent to the Gulf. Indeed, when there was a call for volunteers with security clearances, we “Koreans” were expressly ordered not to volunteer. It’s an odd thing, wanting to go to a war, but I think the motivation was the desire to put years of training to use in a real live mission. As it happened, though, only non-linguists (analysts and the like) were allowed to volunteer for Gulf War duty, and perhaps half a dozen of my friends went and returned.
Shortly after the ceasefire in Iraq, in the Spring of ’91, our unit had what we referred to as a “Mandatory Fun” day — no motor pool duty, no training, just a day for troops to bring their families onto the post, to have a cookout, and to play a little softball.
I was pitching. I don’t remember for sure, but I couldn’t have been doing too well in the position. One batter got a big piece of one of my pitches, sending a line drive low and to my right. As I twisted and lunged to try to spear the ball with my gloved left hand, there was a small *-pop-*… and my Army career was over.
I had torn some ligaments and herniated a disk in my lower back, an injury which still plagues me with an occasional week in bed and with more frequent sciatic pain. It took a year and a half to figure it out, but from that day on I was no longer capable of fully functioning as a soldier. In a profession that demands physical fitness, I could no longer keep up. In September of ’92, I was a civilian again.
Maybe if something had gone differently, maybe if I’d been held over in Korea for a few more months, maybe if I hadn’t volunteered to pitch that day, maybe if I’d been a better pitcher, I’d have remained in the Army for the full 20 years.
Today would have been my retirement day.
I miss being in the Army; I think about it every day. I often wonder where I would be and what I’d be doing if I was still in the service. Some of the finest people I’ve ever been privileged to know were those with whom I served, and if I have one regret it’s that I’ve kept in touch with so few of them.