My Adventure in South Korea

Every soldier who has served in South Korea above the “No Smile Line” or the area north of the Korean town of Uijeongbu-si where the U.S. Army’s 2nd Infantry Division used to be located had an Ajumma and feared Slicky Boy. Ajumma is the Korean word for married women; however, it was used to reference Korean women who made delicious food for soldiers out training in the field. Slicky Boy was the invisible, mysterious person who would sneak in and steal soldier’s equipment. These two Korean characters were a part of my adventure in South Korea as they were for thousands of soldiers like me.

Each company in my battalion had an Ajumma. Few soldiers never knew their Ajumma’s real name, but she was always recognizable. When someone wanted to eat something other than the Army’s meals-ready-to-eat (MREs) or the Army’s field ration food, they could always turn to Ajumma. She made delicious hot plates of fried rice, fries, ham-egg-cheese sandwiches, Yaki Mandu (fried Korean dumplings), or Bulgogi (spicy beef) with Ramen Noodles and Cheese (I would later learn that Ramen Noodles is a Japanese dish after mistakenly believing it was Korean). The food was good and always accessible. It was not uncommon to hear stories of soldiers spending their month’s salary eating Ajumma’s food. Ajumma willingly took credit by allowing soldiers to fill out a ledger with their orders and pay later. In fact, I knew one young mechanic who did just that and had no money left over after payday when Ajumma came to collect.

The story of Ajumma is more than delicious Korean food. Ajumma’s story is legendary among soldiers because she always knew where they were going before they did. Soldiers were rudely awakened at three in the morning to sirens blaring, announcing an alert drill to train and prepare for possible conflict with North Korea. Soldiers and units were required to sprint to the vehicles and drive out to designated areas to simulate combat-related battle drills. In most cases, soldiers and units did not know where they were going until shortly after the exercise started. When soldiers and their units arrived, they were amazed to see that Ajumma was there waiting for them and had her truck and tent set up to make food. On one occasion, my unit was delayed reaching our designated location, so Ajumma found us on the side of the road and began cooking next to our convoy of vehicles. Since it was a hot day, many soldiers bought and stocked up on the Powerade bottles she sold.

Ajumma not only cooked food and knew where we were going, but she also served as our sentinel against Slicky Boy. Soldiers would share stories of their units being hit by Slicky Boy when they discovered equipment and uniform items missing from their bags in the morning. Sometimes they would catch Slicky Boy, but Slicky Boy was an invisible ghost who often got away. Of course, not every unit was the victim of Slicky Boy’s exploits as long as they had a good relationship with Ajumma. I cannot say a correlation between Ajumma and Slicky Boy existed, but one event makes me believe in a coincidental connection.

During one training event, the battalion executive officer banned Ajumma from our perimeter. Despite recommendations against such a move, he was adamant. Ridiculous security measures were put in place, including having the tank headlights on at night, bright strobe lights, etc., which defeated the tactical training of concealment from the enemy. For added measure, two sets of patrols were established. Did any of these measures help? Nope! Slicky Boy got through and stole equipment and items. After a day or two of losing to Slicky Boy, the executive officer was convinced to allow Ajumma back into our perimeter. Once she returned, there were no other Slicky Boy incidents. I am unsure how Ajumma kept Slicky Boy away since she traveled alone or with another female helping cook. Either way, Ajumma proved invaluable to our security in the field.

Ajumma was also very territorial about which unit she served. There was nothing like seeing a conflict between two Ajummas competing for turf. In one incident, a group of soldiers witnessed a scene from a Saturday morning Kung Fu movie when two Ajummas were fighting when another unit’s Ajumma attempted to serve our unit. Ajumma may have been an elderly lady, but she could fight.

After I left South Korea in 2003, I never forgot Ajumma and Slicky Boy. When I was later stationed in Germany, we had “gut trucks” come around, but they were nothing like Ajumma. When I discuss Ajumma and Slicky Boy with veterans who have served in South Korea, they always have funny stories to share about their experiences. Finally, beyond the stories, we always remember that she made great food.