Last Chance

Driving down the nine mile stretch of the Georgetown, Maine peninsula to my eventual resting place, I have frequently noticed a series of warning signs. They each announce that the Georgetown Country Store is coming up soon. One sign announces “Last chance for sandwiches before the water(read end of peninsula),” another “Last chance for drinks (both not true but how would a tourist know).”

These signs reminded me of highway signs that announce ” Last Chance for Gas before Expressway”  or whatever.

In 1968 I had the pleasure of serving with the Second Infantry Division in the northern reaches of South Korea. My Battalion typically rotated up for duty on the DMZ for 4 months and then back to Blue Lancer Valley for 4 months in reserve. Prior to a 4 month stint on the DMZ, the junior officers would spend several weeks ferrying back and forth from BLV to the DMZ to participate in patrols with the unit already in place. I arrived in Korea in late June, reported to Blue Lancer Valley, was assigned to an infantry platoon in B Company and was informed that five days later I would be sent to the DMZ for patrol training with our sister unit which would switch with us in early July.

During the late sixties we had two full combat Divisions in South Korea, the Second and Seventh. This was the period before the great economic growth of  South Korea. Seoul sits roughly 35 miles south of the Imjin River, the DMZ and North Korea. At this time the area adjacent to the Imjin was populated with farmers and various contingents who made there livings servicing the roughly 30,000 US troops assigned to the area.

On my fifth day with my Battalion, I climbed in the back of a jeep with my combat gear. The front seat was commandeered by a first Lieutenant who was a short timer. He explained that there were only 2 bridges across the Imjin River that led to the DMZ. Only Army personnel were allowed north of the river and then only with special passes. There were no civilians living on the north side of the bridges. Male Korean civilian support personnel were trucked in each morning and trucked back out each evening. The population at all times was 99.9 % male.

As we passed through the last small village that abutted the river and was at the southern terminus of one of the bridges, the First Lt. explained that this village, Chang Pari, was the evening destination for the enlisted men stationed north of the river. Most of the infantry enlisted men might get a pass one night out of ten. The one street village seemed to consist of seedy looking bars and slightly more upscale collections of shacks that were discribed as brothels.

Turning left at a small crossroads, we approached the bridge with defensive barriers, armed guards etc. Fifty yards short of the bridge there was a three story stucco billing painted a robins egg blue. In large letters on the side of the building were the words “Last Chance.”

Four days later after having survived my first ambush patrol in the DMZ (listening to Commander Lloyd Bucher beg to come home over North Korean loudspeakers), I was again in the back of a jeep returning to my Battalions base at Blue Lancer Valley. As we crossed the bridge into the village I again noticed the robin’s egg blue building. In prominent lettering on the side of the building facing the bridge I read “First Chance.”