Tag: korea

Mundaz Wandering Political Thoughts

Last week, Trump ordered the attack of Venezuela to kidnap their president. This strategy has been pulled lifted from dusty history books.

Trump is claiming this is a ‘law enforcement’ action and not a military action. Not only is this not original, but it’s been used before, with extended, problematic results.

Looking back at history, early involvement in Korea was called a ‘police action’. President Truman was playing with the truth to avoid the need for Congress to declare war before sending in troops.

Tens of thousands of American soldiers were killed. A heavy U.S. military presence in Korea began in the 1950s and continues in 2026.

Vietnam is another place where early U.S. military involvement was categorized as a ‘police action’. Hundreds of thousands of people were killed during that police action. Environmentally, the war wreaked wholesale destruction on Vietnam and its people.

Politically, the Vietnam War became a catalyst for the emerging generation gap. Cultural and moral splits arose across the United States as demonstrators took over streets and campuses to protest the draft, deaths, and war. Our involvement in that war created a symbolic battlefield in the United States as involvement was argued.

As a person born in 1956 in the United States, I vividly remember the news reports of these demonstrations I read about as a teen or saw on television. As a retired military member, I heard too many horror stories of Vietnam. Films of the bombing campaigns such as Operation Rolling Thunder and Linebacker I and II were shown to us, including the violent destruction.

I remember the My Lai massacre, a scandal that shocked us, and young John Kerry’s testimony. I recall photographs of children burned with napalm. The vivid imagery of Operation Babylift and the fall of Saigon are seared into memory.

I imagine that Trump and his advisors are madly spinning that this is nothing like either of those wars. Glances back to early newspaper articles reveal slow, soft involvement in them, just as we see unfolding for us today.

Trump’s Administration has revealed confusion about what’s intended in Venezuela at this point. Trump informs We the People that the United States will ‘run Venezuela’. Venezuelan Vice President Delcy Rodríguez has taken over as interim President to manage the country.

Much as you would expect if another nation attacked the United States and kidnapped Donald Trump, acting President Rodríguez made a defiant speech against allowing any nation to run them or treat them like a colony.

Trump responded as a bully, threatening acting President Rodríguez she’ll pay a bigger price if she doesn’t comply with his demands. The messages and mannerism of Trump’s response don’t project an early or peaceful resolution, as he included threats to send more military into Venezuela.

Attacking Venezuela aligns with Trump’s practice of making and breaking promises. Trump campaigned against getting involved in other nations militarily.

Yet, Trump has continually employed the military as a baseball bat during his second term’s first year in office. He’s suggested annexing Greenland is a good idea, and has implied using military action against Mexico and other nations is possible while recently adding Cuba to the conversation.

My last concern goes back to ‘exit strategies’. Trump complained mightily that exit strategies for U.S. involvement in Iraq and Afghanistan didn’t exist. He then established a clumsy exit strategy for removing troops from Afghanistan (the Doha Agreement) which President Biden executed.

*An important side note to Trump’s approach to the Doha Agreement is that he didn’t include the Afghani government in the negotiations. This is the same approach he’s trying to end Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, not including Ukraine in the negotiations.

During his first term, Trump also directly answered reporters’ questions with the response, “I don’t do exit strategies.” That doesn’t bode well for the United States now.

We know from Trump’s business practices and marriages, his business strategies are bankruptcy, divorce, or cheating on his businesses and partners. But in those endeavors, he lacked the U.S. Treasury’s resources and U.S. military power.

It feels to me, Trump is making the same historic mistakes the United States made in the past, repeating his own patterns of impulsive errors. But now, the stakes and consequences are much, much higher.

7

Wenzdaz Theme Music

It’s cold and cloudy in Ashland this morning. Our temperature went to 34 F about 8 PM last night. It’s still there. Stagnant air rules us today, Wenzda, December 31, 2025. Tepid sunshine squirms in past the clouds. With this sun and air combination, we expect high temperatures in the low 40s today.

Dad passed this morning in San Antonio, Texas. He was comfortable, as far as we know, and passed in his sleep, 92 years old, a veteran of Korea and Vietnam.

I received a text from Dad’s wife about his state yesterday afternoon. She said that he was in the last stages. I thanked her and then wrote a few texts to tell others. Afterward, I left my home office. As I did, I basically told Dad, goodbye, good luck, thanks, and I love you.

When I entered the adjacent room, a huge swirl of Dad energy swept around me. I was alone. Suddenly the room felt brighter and warmer. I sincerely and honestly felt Dad was with me.

It lasted about fifteen seconds and then left. I wondered if Dad had died but there weren’t any messages telling me of his death. I just smiled and accepted. Maybe as mystical and out there as it seems, my father and I made another connection just to say hello and goodbye one more time.

The hard part of Dad’s passing is done — getting the news and telling others, then accepting it. I’ll think and grieve for years, embedding his memory and life into my pantheon of existence.

The Neurons are playing “Flowers” by Miley Cyrus in the morning mental music stream. They made an interesting choice. I don’t understand it any better than I understand some of the dreams I had last night. That’s life.

I hope peace and grace come by your place and give you a hug. May the days ahead be gentle with you. Cheers

6

Sabre Jet Ace

I loved aircraft when I was a kid. I was specially enamored with the sleek, fast fighter jets. I built models of them as soon as I was old enough. I soon had the entire ‘century series’ of jet aircraft the U.S. was fielding. The stubby little centerline jet F86 Sabre Jet was my favorite aircraft. For that, I don’t know why. I do know that I discovered a book about it at our school library. We were in there to read a book and write a book report about it. The book was called, Sabre Jet Ace.

I don’t remember anything about the book except that title.

Spring forward to the mid 1970s. I’m now in the Air Force, working command and control. This was at an ATC training base named Randolph Air Force Base. We weren’t involved in the flying in that command post, and the shifts were slow, long, and boring. Into it came our new director: Major Gross. With so much time on our hands, Major Gross would wander around, looking for conversation. I politely indulged in, asking questions about his career.

A Nebraska farm boy, he’d ended up in the Air National Guard, where he became a pilot. In the early days, he flew P51 Mustangs in Korea during that conflict. “Beautiful aircraft,” he said. “I loved flying them.” But the Air Force was modernizing. He was forced into jets. “Much easier to fly.” The jet he flew was the F86 Sabre Jet.

His story became one of hardship. He was sent home, became a civilian, and started a business. When that failed, he joined the Air Force as an enlisted person. Then, as an enlisted man, his reserve unit was called up. Through bizarre machinations, he became an officer and a fighter pilot again. This time he ended up flying in Vietnam in a century series jet, the F105 Thunderchief, but Major Gross’s aircraft was in an unarmed configuration, conducting Wild Weasel missions. I so enjoyed hearing his stories, and he was willing to share.

As it happens, I ended up working with three other pilots with F86 Sabre Jet experiences. None were aces. One was a vice wing commander when I met him. He started jets on the F84 Sabre Jet, then was moved to F4s, which he didn’t like flying nearly as much. He survived combat missions in Vietnam, but then had a dual engine flame out while taking off from a base in England. Although he safely ejected, his seat malfunctioned. Both legs and his spine were severely damaged. He was told he’d never walk again, but he’d overcome that prognosis and was now a regular runner.

The second officer, another major, went from flying the F84 to A37s in Vietnam in a close air support role. The third office, a captain, converted from F86s to F4s. He flew them in Vietnam, too. Shot down by a SAM while flying a combat mission, he was a prisoner of war for several years. He never spoke about those stories.

I appreciated what men endured, serving our country, even if, like many — including several of them — I didn’t agree with the Vietnam War. The book which originally titillated me probably romanticized the war.

These pilots never did. As for me, I didn’t become a pilot. My eyesight wasn’t good enough back then. I always wonder, would I have been any good?

In a final aside, I was sent to Kunsan Air Base in Korea sometime in the early 1980s. The US Air Force was primarily flying F16 Fighting Falcons at Kunsan, but they shared facilities with a squadron of Korean F86 Sabre Jets.

They still struck me as a pretty plane, although they seemed so small compared to the F4s, F15s, and F16s frequenting the base. I was able to meet and chat with several Korean F86 pilots. Fun aircraft to fly, they told me. Light and nimble.

I could only imagine.

1

Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

We use ‘mink’ blankets on our beds for warmth during the winter. These are fuzzy polyester creations. One is royal blue; the other a bland beige. Cats usually love them, going into kneading, purring — and sometimes drooling — ecstasy. Thing abut these two blankets is that my wife and I bought them in Korea in 1983. $20 each. Forty-two years old, the blankets remain in excellent condition.

I think that they remain one of the best buys of our lifetime.

1

Mootday’s Theme Music

Cool morning. Love the smell and feel of cool mornings like we’ve been going through. This one twitches my senses in a mildly different way, coming at me with a watery smell to it. Know what I mean? The cool air and smell reminds me of Korea. Not Seoul, but out in Pusan or Osan. Seoul, like many large cities, often just smell like food and vehicle exhaust to me. Not a great smell.

It’s Mootday, July 10, 2023. Moot, because it’s uncertain how it’ll turn. Most days start moot. Even by the end, they feel moot, with some things accomplished, some small personal victories to be celebrated, but more things just hanging over your head.

Current temperature in Ashlandia, where the air is clear but the trees are dying, is 67 F. Yes, the Douglas Fir trees are dying. Infestation and the stress and strain of drought are given as a reason. You feel for them, but all we can do is cut the down and clear them out because they increase our fire danger.

It’ll be in the mid to high eighties today, just as it was yesterday.

The Neurons have installed “Heat of the Moment” by Asia in my morning mental music stream. It might be associated my thought that the morning air reminded me of Korea. I went to Korea for the first time in 1981, and visited the country several times during the next several years, either on vacation or on Air Force business.

Stay positive and make the best of the moments. Thread them together into a good day. Coffee helps me in that goal. I’m gonna have some now. Here’s the music. Cheers

0

A Dark and Rainy Dream

It was all wet, black and white, for a while. I was with many strangers in a dilapidated, rusted out industry area. Worn out, rusted metal and falling brick walls dominated the land. Seems like a railroad yard was not far off. There were many cyclone fences, barbwire topping some. Holes were in the fences where people had trashed them. Gloominess prevailed.

I was being detained (wrongfully so, in my mind) with all these strangers. I was to stop and stay there. Didn’t want to but recognized fighting against it would be foolhardy, a conclusion supported by strangers giving me warning stares. Okay. Authorities were threatening a black man, same age as me, a few feet from me. He had a long closing knife, brass and wood, which he covertly dropped and kicked to one side. (The knife was the only color in the dream at that point.) I shifted, covering it with my foot, then drawing it back, biding my time until I could slip it into my pocket.

Later, after the authorities moved off, I gave him his knife. He thanked me in broken English. We chatted, and he warned others not to bother me, acting as a protector. He seemed like he was Japanese, then I realized he was Korean. I mentioned that I’d been to Kunsan Air Force Base in Korea, supporting the 8th Tactical Fighter Wing. He showed me a color photo of a Korean male. I recognized him and told him we’d worked together at Kunsan. That seemed to bond us.

We were released shortly after that, but now specific customs and rules needed to be observed, like where to stand (and not) while waiting to cross the street. Watching others, I quickly picked up on what was what, but my new friend took pains to point everything out to me. I appreciated that. We made our way through the gated area to an intersection, then waited with others for the light to change so that we could cross.

After crossing, we realized that we were going in different directions. He showed me the knife again, thanking me for recovering it and hiding it for him, then showed me the photo again (at which we laughed), and then shook hands and said good-bye. When I turned and started walking, I was suddenly by busy freeways of white cement. The rain had stopped failing. The clouds were breaking up, and night was coming.

I felt happy for having met the man and helping him, though it was such a small effort for me, and pleased with how he’d helped me.

0

The Wife Dream

My wife and I were young people, in our early twenties, staying in a hotel in Korea. We had separate rooms; I don’t know why. It was a busy place, with chaotic rules that I couldn’t grasp. I was also constantly trying to change my underwear. Whenever I’d get somewhere private where I thought that I could, others would barge in on me, lighting up the high exasperation warning light.

My wife and I finally met in a crowded hallway outside of my room. We made plans to go see the sights and such but I first wanted a hair cut. I went down to the barber. One woman took money from me and gave me a chit. Another took the chit and gave me a second chit. A third took that chit and ushered me into a queue. I decided to wash my hair while waiting, thinking that would make it easier to cut. When it was my turn, they rinsed off my hair and sent me on my way. I asked my wife what she thought of it, and she replied that it was worse that before. I saw my hair in a mirror; it was long, thick, wavy, and black. I needed to have it cut but my wife was impatient to go on.

We heard people talking about going to Singapore. The way they talked, Singapore was an immediate neighbor. I was surprised; in my opinion, Singapore isn’t close to Korea and would take some hours of flying to reach it. I decided that my geography knowledge was wrong.

Acting listless and irritated, my wife kept wandering off and doing silly things, like snatching papers from other people to read, then throwing the papers aside. People were getting vexed with her, and so was I. We went outside to get a break from the crowds. Going outside, we ended up on a cliff path.

A gorgeous, lightly clouded sky was overhead. The path cut through thick green bushes that were waist high. She ran ahead when my back was turned. When I saw what she’d done, I ran after her. As I was catching her, she went off on another path, like she didn’t want me to catch her. Saying, “Screw it,” I kept running. Let her try to catch me. After running another forty yards, I stopped and looked back. I didn’t see her. I waited for a few minutes to see if she would show. When she didn’t, I shrugged.

It was time for her to start looking for me. Turning, I walked on.

The dream ended.

5

Korea & IBM Dream

My old buddy, Randy, was a dream guest last night. He passed away in 2016 from colon cancer so seeing him was a surprise.

The dream started with an IBM conference. I worked for IBM and sometimes dream of them. In this instance, I was at an annual meeting. A product announcement was made. IBM’s stock price jumped a dozen dollars. We were all happy, looking forward to the future. Then, hours later, it was back down to where it had been, $77 a share. I saw that in red on my phone and told everyone, “That’s what always happened.” That started a thinking process for me: maybe I should be shorting IBM. I continue thinking about that during the dream.

Meanwhile, we needed to go to another location to meet and eat. We were taking our cars. Mine was a dark blue Audi S7. I was so pleased to have it in the dream. An older woman had a dark blue car as well. She had a window cut out. A note written in black marker on an orange piece of paper was by the hole, along with a cup. The note said that she would appreciate donations for tolls.

We all took off driving. The woman left first. I was third in line. I knew the road. Realizing we were coming up to a corner that would be slick with ice where it’d be easy to spin out of control, I slowed down. Others passed me.

One of those cars crashed. Coming up on the scene, the other driver was laying in the ice and sludge, alive but injured. I stopped my car, put on my emergency blinkers, and jumped out to help him. Other cars were coming. Hurrying out to meet them, I used hand signals to warn them to stop, then I went back and helped the other person.

We reached the hotel restaurant. I realized we were in Korea. I saw Randy across the room. He looked just as he did the last time that I saw him. I called out, but he kept going. My co-workers and I got in line to order food. I was second in line behind someone whose order was being filled. For some reason, though, the servers ignored me and started taking others’ orders. That enraged me. I started to make a comment but the manager realized what was happening and had someone hasten over to take my order. I didn’t know what to order though. I eventually asked them for a food that I didn’t know. I thought it was potatoes but they told me no, it isn’t potatoes. They asked me if I wanted sauce and different things added. Since I had no idea what anything was, I told them, yes to everything.

Taking my food on a red tray, I went to find a table and saw Randy again. This time he saw me and came over to chat. I invited him to join my group and introduced him to a couple people. Reaching the table, I realized it was broken. Setting my tray off to one side, I turned the table upside down. The legs had come lose. The screws were there, so I said, “Screw it, I’m going to fix this.” After re-attaching the table legs and tightening the screws, I turned the table over.

We all put out food on the table and sat down to eat. That’s where it ended.

0

Today’s Theme Music

I first heard and saw today’s song while I was in an Osan City donut shop in Korea in February, 1986. I was there on temporary duty with the Air Force during the annual Team Spirit exercises. This little mocking gem was an MTV staple for the late Robert Palmer, a song that was sexy and debasing as it called your attention to models pretending to play instruments and told you, “You were addicted to love.”

Yeah, it was the love that had you watching, wasn’t it?

1

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑