On the worst thing I have ever seen

Let me preface this tale by saying I have the utmost respect for military service men and woman of all nations and especially my own whom I am grateful that they are willing to put their life on the line for our nation at all costs. I may not always agree with their policy makers but it has nothing to do the men and woman who wear the uniform.  So this story is not to bash on the military. This story is about ignorance, xenophobia, racism and sheer and utter embarrassment of the flag that I grew up pledging allegiance to every day.

Ok, so actually this is not the worst thing I have ever seen.  That can be found somewhere in the pages of chapter nine here. Anyway, maybe I should call this the second worst thing I have ever seen. That may be a bit harsh with a lot of my travels but I have been pretty lucky that I haven’t come across too much bad shit in my life. At least nothing like this. This all began on a cold Sunday afternoon in the eastern mountains of South Korea, the site of the upcoming 2018 winter Olympics.

Sorry, more prefacing; The American military in South Korea gets a bad rap.  I’m sure this is true for most units stationed abroad anywhere, but it is particularly spot-on in a country home to almost 30,000 US military personnel. That isn’t to say the Koreans don’t appreciate them or what their predecessors did for the war. In fact, a lot of them, especially the elder generation, remember very clearly.  But these days, in a country with a vibrant and abundant alcohol scene, problems can arise.  The military is policed well with a highly enforced curfew and MPs patrolling the regular army hot spots along with their South Korean counterparts, so for the most part the incidents are few and far between. I can personally vouch for dozens of positive experiences running into my military countrymen and ne’er a problem arose.

That wasn’t the case on that Sunday afternoon when I boarded a bus for Seoul after a weekend of skiing with my friend and our two Korean dates.  The trip to Seoul from the mountain was between three-four hours depending on traffic and one of my favorite things about South Korea, like much of the rest of the world, is the fact that you can drink a beer pretty much wherever you want. After a long day of skiing a cold beer goes hand in hand with removing your ski boots and I boarded the bus with a tall boy accordingly.  But just one, because one of my least favorite things about South Korea is the fact that none of their busses have toilets and I knew from experience that the trip back to Seoul could go from relatively painless to excruciating in a matter of minutes (depending on traffic and if you drank more than one tall boy.)

I didn’t exactly groan when the six foreigner snowboarders got on the bus, bags and hands full of liter sized beers, but I wasn’t happy about it either.  They moved noisily to the back of the bus and it was easy to see that they had been at the booze all day. I immediately pegged them as US Army because the majority of Western foreigners in Korea are either military or English teachers and the differences between them are night and day; Hair, clothing, style, swagger, speech. My Canadian buddy shot me a dirty look on principle, as if he knew what kind of behavior was about to go down. I didn’t but nodded politely as they moved passed me to the back of the bus, four men and two women, kids really, who couldn’t have been much older than twenty if that.

The first issue with them was that they were loud. Koreans in general can be loud and boisterous, especially at a restaurant or pub when drinking, but that is generally not the case on public transportation, especially long bus trips where everyone goes to sleep. If they do communicate to each other, it’s in low murmurs. These Army kids were having none of that. They noisily recanted the tales of the day, crudely dropping F-bombs between every other word. It’s a common misconception in Korea that no one understands English because so many Koreans are afraid to use it, but that certainly doesn’t mean they don’t know the meaning of the word Fuck.

None of this really keyed me up too much as I chalked it up to basic ignorance and a filter that fizzled away with each sip of beer they took. But things changed when the driver walked to the back to check their tickets.

“What the fuck do you want you slant-eyed fuck?” burst out one of the men. My jaw dropped. Whether the driver understood him or not was irrelevant. He said “ticket” and the Army kids rudely drug out their tickets laughing at the poor man’s accent and continuing to curse. The driver slinked back to the front of the bus and fired up the engine. I knew we were in for a long ride.

The rest of the bus must have been hoping the kids would quiet down once the journey began. When it was apparent they wouldn’t one rather brave Korean yelled out at them to be quiet. He said it in Korean.

“The fuck did you say?” Racist army dirtbag number two screamed back. “Shut the fuck up or do something then!” The man who had spoke up kept his mouth shut.

At this point I was livid. I couldn’t believe these were my countrymen. My Canadian buddy was glaring at me. My Korean girlfriend was trembling softly. My first instinct was the turn around and get into it. I would teach these fuckers respect even if it meant getting my faced bashed in while I did it. But then I stopped. It wasn’t fear that held me back. Well, maybe a bit that my girlfriend would somehow get mixed up in it. But suddenly I realized I didn’t want to jeopardize my future in the country by throwing down with these clowns. I was a foreigner with next-to-no knowledge of the language and could easily be deported for something like that. I gritted my teeth and stared straight ahead, painfully regretting the fact that I had forgotten my headphones on this trip. I would be forced to listen to this shit for the next few hours.

What I listened to was filthy and disgusting. Jersey Shore meets Jerry Springer. The six of them yelled and screamed at each other. They joked crudely and played an obscene version of Never Have I ever that barely belonged in the dorm room let alone a public bus in a foreign country. The two women of the group had the filthiest mouths and that was apparent before they began fighting with each other. One eventually got up and rudely forced her way into a seat next to a lone Korean girl, who shook with fear. The men of the group were no better. They cracked the windows and smoked cigarettes, which was highly illegal. When they could hold their bladders no longer, they openly went in the empty liters, not before publically announcing their intentions to the entire bus.

I was in utter disbelief. I could not believe the bus driver. He had a cell phone. I couldn’t believe he didn’t call the police and kick these bastards off the bus. I kept waiting for him to pull over but he never did. When we finally reached Seoul, I held out hope that an MP unit would be waiting at the stop, cuffs ready for a night in the brig that these kids deserved. Of course there was nothing. They pushed their way off the bus, into the subway, and out of my life forever.

The anger stayed with me for days afterwards. I couldn’t believe the behavior. I wanted to hold someone accountable. I tried to understand. I tried to empathize. I knew they were kids and basic grunts. There was no way an officer would have put up with that kind of behavior.  I knew they hadn’t asked to be stationed here. And maybe they hated it. (Ironically, I can’t think of many better places to be stationed than a country that loves to party and there is no danger of getting blown up by an IUD or RPG). But it was like they just had some feeling that they weren’t in real life. That they were in a fantasy world where they could behave however they pleased with no consequences whatsoever. That’s what killed me the most. The lack of fear or worry about being held responsible for their actions. It ate me up inside. These were the people who represented my country. These animals that every person on that bus would go home and tell their family about. The American military doesn’t behave that way. My father was in the service. I have friends in the service. Hell, I had spent that very afternoon skiing with an Army guy I just met who most certainly wouldn’t have been acting like that.

The anger has eased with the passage of time. I know this wasn’t the worst behavior the American military has shown in Korea. Hell, I’m positive even some English teachers have done worse. But anytime I want, I can transport myself back to that bus ride, and for those three hours, I have never felt more shame for the present state of my country.