Got to thinking just now about the drunkest I've ever been in my entire life...maybe because a friend of mine just left about an hour ago after being at my house drinking Sailor Jerry Spiced Rum and coke with me, I dunno...anyhow, I was sitting here thinking, "Just what is the drunkest I've ever been in my entire life? And the answers - yes, answers, plural - came to me right away.
Both times took place in Korea, about ten years apart. One of them took place for a really good reason - at least it seemed good to me at the time - and the other was just plain stupid.
The first time was in September of 1979, and I was a 22 year old buck sergeant stationed at Kunsan Air Base in the Republic of South Korea. This was my first overseas assignment and it was a remote assignment, which meant that my wife and children had to stay back home at my previous base in the States while I was gone - for a whole year. I'd been in Korea for about 4 months and was lucky enough to be roomies with a staff sergeant by the name of Dewey Alabaugh, easily one of the coolest guys I'd met in my young life. Anyhow, it was time for Dewey to rotate back to the States, and on his last night in country I threw him the obligatory going-away party. It started out with just the people on our flight, about a dozen or so, but quickly grew to about two dozen people. Somewhere during the festivities - which means a little after midnight when everybody was good and drunk - someone bet me twenty bucks that I wouldn't drink a half-bottle of Ron Rico Light Rum straight.
Well, I was just drunk enough to do it, so after the airman laid his money on the dresser upon which I was sitting, I grabbed the bottle and down it went. Half an hour later he came back wanting a "double or nothing" bet, only this time it was half a bottle of Ron Rico dark.
He lost that one, too. Do I need to tell you what happened next?
I remember turning to Dewey and handing him the sixty bucks, asking him to put it away someplace safe because in about an hour or so I wasn't going to remember who the hell I was, much less where the money was. I may have been young, but I wasn't stupid. Everything else after that is, well, kinda gone. Just, well, gone.
I remember being really, really thirsty, so I stumbled out of our room in a t-shirt, jeans, and flip-flops and bouncing from wall to wall headed to the water fountain which was located in the exact center of the hallway of the dormitory. I got my drink and then turned to go back to my room, but my feel wouldn't work. Next thing I knew I was lying face-down on the floor, and had NO desire to get up at all. The floor was moving beneath me like the deck of a ship on rough seas, I was that drunk. And then it hit me.
I'm gonna be sick. REEEEEEEEALLY sick.
I lifted my head and looked at the exit door way at the end of the hall, and it looked like that doorway was about a mile away. I didn't know if I would make it, but I was determined to give it a try. So I staggered to my feet and gave it my best effot - and got to within 5 feet of the door before the inevitable happened. I won't go into details, but I'm sure you know what happened next.
Dewey, God bless his soul, sat up with me the rest of the night feeding me bottles of water with alka-seltzer in them so I wouldn't dehydrate and go into shock. All this took place while I was sitting on the floor in a stall of the bathroom in the dorm, hugging one of the porcelain johns into which I would periodically - well, you know. At that time and place, if you got admitted into the base hospital for an alcohol related incident your career was pretty much over, and I have Dewey to thank that that didn't happen.
All I know is that it was close to six AM before I finally crawled into bed, sick as a dog and hung over like you wouldn't believe, and I had to be at work at one PM that afternoon. I made it, but it was tough, let me tell you.
The second time also took place in Korea, this time at Taegu Air Base when I was a Technical Sergeant. I had just processed into the unit and was looking at my first Friday night in-country with nothing to do when a staff sergeant in the Training Section (to which I was temporarily assigned) by the name of Williams told me he was going down to the 'Ville tonight (the area of bars located right outside of the main gate) and get drunk. I told him that I'd come along, and he told me that I wouldn't be able to keep up with him. I told him I could, and the bet was on. Duty hours ended at 1630 hours (4:30PM for you civilians out there) and at 1700 hours we were in the 'Ville.
And Will - the staff sergeant - wasn't kidding when he said he was hell-bent on getting drunk. That boy was SERIOUS, let me tell you! By nine PM we were standing in the middle of the dance floor at The Lion Club - the cop hangout - forehead to forehead, each of us leaning on the other so we wouldn't fall over, both of us so drunk the room was spinning like there's no tomorrow.
"Cowboy, you did it," he said (my nickname in the service was 'Cowboy'). "I didn't think you could do it, but you did it - you kept up with me!"
"Yeah, I did! I told you I could!" I replied, barely able to keep my feet under me. I was so drunk my face was numb.
"You're a hell of a man, Cowboy! No one's ever been able to keep up with me before, but you did it! And now I'm gonna go home and pass out," he said, at which point his yobo - Korean for 'girlfiend' - who was the bartender at the club came out to the dance floor and got him, then took him off to their hooch.
As for me, I stumbled over to a table and flopped down in the chair, then asked the mamasan of the club to call the Town Patrol so I could get a ride back to the base. I was fried to the gills and needed to get my sorry drunk ass back to the base, and I knew it. Ten minutes later the Town Patrol showed up, and I told them who I was and said that I needed a ride back to the base.
"Oh, yeah, you must be the new Flight Chief," the young black sergeant said. "Sure thing, Sgt Craig, we'll get you back to the base." And with that I went out and got into their Hummer and they drove me back to the base. Ten minutes after that I was passed out in my bed, clothes and all.
I was hung over and sick for three days.
I got drunk on Friday night, and it was Sunday morning before I could put anything on my stomach except water and Alka-Seltzer. Thank God for Alka-Seltzer! And when Monday morning rolled around and I had to get into uniform and show up at the Training Section, I did so but it was a struggle. But I felt better after I got a look at Staff Sergeant Williams, my drinking buddy of the previous Friday night. He looked like he'd been rode hard and put away wet.
I haven't been that drunk or anywhere even close to it since, and I don't plan on it, either.
I may be a lot of things, but stupid ain't one of 'em.
I think.
IHC
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