Chasing Wars, part 2 · 1:01pm Jul 19th, 2018
I'm going to indulge myself in a little non-pony-related writing, here. Forgive me if that's not your thing.
A little over four years ago I wrote a blog post about the feeling I sometimes got while walking around our base in Afghanistan. Bagram was and remains a desolate, dusty, wind-blown shoal on the edge of the desert mountains south of Kabul. There are trees there, though not enough, and the green fields planted by farmers stand out like emeralds against the beige everything. But the architecture of the base -- bare cement, crushed gravel walkways, plywood b-huts and corrugated metal connex containers -- is simple and brutal and so distinctive that even four years later I can see it clearly in my mind.
I'm not in Afghanistan anymore, of course. I've moved onto much greener pastures, first in Japan and now in Korea. But for all that South Korea, the 12th richest country in the world, is so different from Afghanistan, I can't help but be reminded of my time there when I am here.
Korea has always had a bit of a rough reputation as a place to live for the military. Superficially it shouldn't -- it's almost as rich as Japan, right across the sea. Certainly Seoul, where so many of our bases were located, is a first-class city and a joy to visit, easily on par with Tokyo. Although the Korean language is just as difficult for native English speakers to learn as Japanese, it's much easier to get around here speaking only English than it is in Japan. So many Koreans speak English, and almost every sign in the country is in both languages.
Nevertheless, ask most service members where they'd prefer to be stationed, and they'll say 'Japan' every time. Part of that is probably the safety factor, since Japan isn't still at war and isn't in range of North Korean artillery. Part of it is comfort; as nice as Korea is, our bases here were spartan at best for most of the 20th century, focused on war preparation rather than comfort. The majority of service members in Korea aren't allowed to bring their families here, so rather than spending three years on assignment they only stay here for one year, which makes it hard to put down roots and enjoy your time. Being stationed in Korea is, in a lot of ways, like a comfortable deployment to a war zone.
There is a new base south of Seoul called Camp Humphreys. It is immense, stretching out for miles across the rice paddies around Pyeontaek. It is still being built; from my apartment window I can see six massive cranes lifting girders into position during the day. Scaffold-clad housing towers form blocks that march in orderly rows down the arrow-straight streets. You cannot walk down the sidewalks without being impressed by the scale, but also put off by it, by the slightly inhuman nature of the construction. These towers and houses and warehouses and stores were not built by people but by the Army, doing its best to give humans what it thinks they want. And, to be fair to the Army, it's doing a good job. There is more attention to beauty at Camp Humphreys than at any other base I have ever visited in the military; the buildings aren't just concrete boxes but thoughtful, flavorful designs. Outside my apartment tower runs a park along the river, with newly planted trees and trimmed grass. It borders the library and the band's headquarters and the automotive skills shop, and across the way is a gorgeous new high school. The Army, in defiance of all our preconceptions, is trying as hard as it can to make this a livable place.
And yet, when I walk around, I can't shake the nagging feeling that I've seen this all before. That not far beneath the surface is the bare cement and corrugated metal simplicity of our base in Afghanistan. And in those disquieting moments I discover that I have yet to really escape.
There is a footbridge across the small river in the park I mentioned above. Every night at sunset dozens of spiders begin weaving orb webs between the supports on the railing.
Why... are they building a new base in a country we've had more or less the same size garrison force for like forty-fifty years? Is it just that they're retiring the old Eisenhower-era facilities?
Nah, South Korea wants us to move our bases out of the Seoul area to more remote areas down south. It's been in the works for a while, and S. Korea is even paying for most of it.
Your blogs are what made me blog. No one captures the feel of a space and the way that history lies on it and the people therein quite like you do.
I could read your descriptions of places for hours.
I will always miss Anthony Bourdain, but we have CiG.
What if I told you...
I'd read about my own conception if you were the author?
4903782
A chat room discussed their willingness to read a phone book written by you.
I cannot possibly state how depressing it is to me that some people only consume MLP fics.
Thank you for your service.