Happy National Beach Day
Let’s grab a towel, slap on some imaginary sunscreen, and head out to the finest stretch of sand in all of Uijeongbu—the dusty, jeep-tracked front yard of the Swamp!
When the Korean summer rolled in and turned the 4077th into a canvas-covered oven, Hawkeye Pierce and B.J. Hunnicutt didn’t just complain about the heat. They improvised.
Out came the Hawaiian shirts, the folding canvas chairs, and the homemade tin-foil sun reflectors. They would sit right in the middle of the compound, close their eyes, and simply will themselves to be somewhere else. With a perfectly dry, Swamp-distilled martini in hand, the distant rumble of artillery suddenly became the soothing crash of ocean waves at Crabapple Cove.
Charles Emerson Winchester III would inevitably scoff at their childish delusions, sweating profusely while muttering about the pristine, private shores of Martha’s Vineyard and swatting away a mosquito. Klinger, meanwhile, would undoubtedly strut by in a spectacular 1920s striped bathing costume complete with a ruffled parasol, loudly asking Colonel Potter if anyone had seen the cabana boy.
They didn’t have ocean breezes. They had chopper dust.
They didn’t have ice-cold margaritas. They had whatever questionable homemade concoction was currently eating through the rubber tubing of their still.
But they had imagination, and more importantly, they had each other. In a place surrounded by mud and despair, the ability to close your eyes, take a sip of terrible gin, and pretend you were sunbathing on the coast was an absolute survival skill. It was a defiant, hilarious refusal to let the war break their spirits.
So today, whether you are relaxing by the actual ocean, or just sitting on your porch with a cold drink and a good imagination, close your eyes, listen for the waves, and raise a glass to the Swamp rats.
Life’s a beach… even when you have to invent it yourself!
