thank you

For my first assignment in the Navy, I wanted to learn as much as I could about the Navy, preferably in the Atlantic Fleet. I wasn’t too keen on going overseas right off the bat, and when I did go overseas I didn’t want it to be to the Far East. Which is, of course, why my first assignment took me to South Korea…where I worked for the Army! I was assigned to the Public Affairs Office of the headquarters for US Forces Korea, so technically it was a joint (or interservice) command. My boss was an Army Colonel and his boss was a four-star general, also “hatted” as the Commander of the United Nations Command (in case of war) and the Eighth US Army. As it turned out, I couldn’t have asked for a better assignment.

My job involved coordinating media coverage of the 43,000 troops then stationed in South Korea. Most of the interest was in the forces near the Demilitarized Zone, or DMZ. I was also responsible for setting up and escorting weekly tours for the press to Panmunjom, the truce village that sits inside of the DMZ. The DMZ is a two-mile wide strip of land that bisects the Korean peninsula into the communist north and democratic south, one mile on each side of the military demarcation line that was decided on during the truce talks that stopped the shooting of the Korean War in 1953. I made several trips to Panmunjom during the course of my year in-country.

The Imjin River acts as a natural barrier on the southern side of the DMZ, limiting access to that area for travelers from the south. There is a large plaza with war memorials near the Freedom Bridge which allows military and special access to the area near the DMZ. This is the furthest point north that most South Koreans are allowed to travel. We used the plaza area, Imjingak, as the rendezvous point for many of the press tours to Panmunjom.

One day I arrived at Imjingak a little before my scheduled tour. It was a great opportunity to walk through the park and see the memorials. I also took note of the various groups that were there. There was a group of girls, probably fifteen or sixteen years old. I saw them again a bit later, in the parking lot. I was in my dress blue uniform, with the white and black hat (or “cover”) on my head. One of the girls approached me and very shyly said “Hello” in English. “Anyonghaseyo,” I replied, with a smile. Next came “how are you?” to which I echoed “kibuni chosumnika?” (Is your spirit okay?) The girls erupted in giggles at hearing a foreigner trying to speak their language. We commenced a short volley of standard English and Korean phrases, with lots of giggling and smiling. As the girls boarded their bus, a very elderly gentleman dressed in a traditional Korean hanbok approached me. With a slight nod of his head, he said, “kamsahamnida.” Thank you.

His words came at the beginning of my time in the Navy; it was what turned an intended four-year hitch into a twenty-two year career. That day at Imjingak and all the days after, I was the one who was thankful, for the opportunity and honor of serving our nation.

dim sum

At the end of a long trip last month, I stopped in DC and had dinner with two friends, one a naval officer and the other a Foreign Service Officer. Our conversation turned to the early years of our careers, in the waning days of the Cold War and the period just after the Berlin Wall fell. It was very interesting to hear tales of living in Romania – so challenging that embassy folks knew to carry their own light bulbs when they traveled outside of the capital! I talked a bit about my job in South Korea, where I spent a lot of time escorting news media up to the Demilitarized Zone, peering into communist North Korea. When my dad came out to see me, we took a trip to Hong Kong and made a tour up to the border with communist China.

I told my friends about the trip to Hong Kong. My dad had first traveled there while an enlisted man serving in the Pacific Fleet at the end of World War II. After the war ended he got an appointment to the Naval Academy, where an upperclassman told him he could never make it as a Naval aviator. That got Dad’s goat, and he buckled down and graduated in the top part of his class, earning a spot in flight school. After earning his pilot’s Wings of Gold, he joined a squadron in the Pacific Fleet. It was during the Korean War, and they deployed to the theater, with a stop in Hong Kong on the way. (As a side note, Dad’s aviation career was cut short when his plane and the deck of an aircraft carrier became intimately acquainted. Fortunately he walked away with little more than a scratch, but realizing that the upperclassman at Annapolis had been correct all along, Dad became a surface warfare officer and spent the rest of his career driving ships.)

When we went to Hong Kong in 1988, it was fun to watch my dad experiencing the city again, 35 years or so after his last visit. He was amazed by the modernization and growth of the city. I’ll never forget standing on Victoria Peak with him, and what he said as he looked out at the busy harbor and bustling city below. “Wow, this place sure has changed from the last time I was here.”

The Washington Post had done a special feature on dim sum shortly before my dad’s visit. When we got to Hong Kong, he was eager to partake in the Chinese delicacies that traditionally accompany afternoon tea. We ate a lot of dim sum that week. Dad was so taken by it that I’m pretty sure if there had been such a thing as a dim sum breakfast, we would have found it and partaken of it, too.

That is the story I told my friends last week, over dinner in DC. The next day I returned to New York. When I went through the large amount of mail that had accumulated, there was a package from my uncle, forwarding a couple of things he had found while going through some boxes that had been in my grandmother’s attic. One was the certificate given to my dad when he completed flight training. The other was a postcard my dad had mailed him from Hong Kong on October 18, 1988. “Hong Kong has changed one heckuva lot since I was here in 1945, 46, and 53; and they’re still building skyscrapers. Came down here from Seoul with Ellen. The Navy’s giving her a real education – when she leaves Seoul in December, she goes to Spain. Love, Dave” Twenty-four hours after telling my story of a trip taken twenty-two years earlier, I was holding Dad’s version in my hands.

I don’t know why he didn’t tell Uncle Andy about the dim sum; we certainly tasted enough to fill a postcard or two! Here’s a recipe for a dim sum-inspired treat.

Squash Potstickers

Makes about a dozen

One small butternut or kabocha squash

Salt and pepper

3-4 tablespoons canola oil

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

2 tablespoons finely chopped walnuts or pecans

1 package won ton wrappers

1. Preheat oven to 400F.

2. Wash and dry squash. Cut squash into quarters, removing membrane and seeds. Place on tray, drizzling with 1-2 tablespoons oil and seasoning with salt and pepper.

3. Roast in oven for about 40 minutes, until you can insert a knife into the flesh easily. Remove from oven and let cool.

4. Scoop roasted flesh into a bowl, mashing with a fork to bring it to a puree-like consistency. Stir in cinnamon, nuts, and salt and pepper to taste.

5. Make the dumplings by laying an empty won ton wrapper on a cutting board. Scoop a small amount of the squash mixture into the center of the won ton skin, making sure there is plenty of room on the sides so that you can fold over the wrapper without the innards oozing out. Seal the dumpling by dipping your finger in a bowl of water and running it along the edge of the pasta. Press together to seal, and crimp the edge with a fork.

5. To cook the potstickers, you will need a sauté or frying pan that has a lid. Heat remaining oil in pan on medium high heat. Add the dumplings and sauté for two minutes. Then pour about a quarter cup of water in the pan, cover and steam for two minutes. Serve immediately.

Notes

- Won ton wrappers are available in the refrigerated section of most grocery stores.

- If desired, serve with a mix of soy sauce and dark sesame oil mixed with sliced scallion and minced ginger.