The Soldier 1

by Donald Ha

If he returns to Joseon, he won’t need any identification to live, because his hometown was located at the foot of Mt. Baekdu, which the Japanese policemen cannot easily find.

  “So, I/m going to join the military. But there’s one concern.”

  Hans looked at Erika in the room with a sigh.

  Erika was reading a book in a rocking chair.

  “If I die, who’ll take care of her?”

  “Forget about Indo-China then. Just live happily together.”

  “Yeah, right? Damn it. If I had some money, I wouldn’t have to live like this.”

  Hans turned back with a bittersweet smile.

  “If I had some money, I wouldn’t live this miserable life, but go to Argentina and live there with Erica.”

  “Anyway, thank you for the meal. I’d better go.”

  “’kay. If there’s work, call me. I’m always ready!”

  After saying good-bye to the Graham siblings, Jackal went back home. When he went down the stairs, the smell of vomit burned his nose.

  “Ugh.. The smell … It’s terrible.”

  Jackal had a weak stomach.

  He hurried back into his house, closed the door and prepared himself to go out.

  “Well, let's see if that Wugong is ready for me."

  At the same time, Captain Grace of the U.S Army was meeting a figure with the same badge of rank.

  Handsome, well-mannered and a voice pleasing to the ears.

  He was a charmer.

  However, Caption Grace felt an uneasiness from the guy standing in front of him.

  An uneasy sense that cannot be explained solely by his external appearance.

  “I am James McCauley from the office of strategic service (O.S.S)."

  The office of strategic service (O.S.S) was the best secret service in the U.S Army.

  He was known for taking the lead in capturing war criminals at the end of the war.

  “If you are from the O.S.S…Is there someone you’re looking for?”

  “You’re quick-witted. Actually, I am looking for a person. She’s a really cute girl. “

  James McCauley held out a faded photo to Grace.

  Grace's eyes gleamed.

  The picture contained a photo of a cute girl, who looked like a doll.

  “She’s pretty.”

  “It was taken about 3 years ago, so she's grown a little now. These mysterious girls tend to grow quickly, like a cat.”

  James held out his hand with a smile.

  After looking at the photo carefully, Grace asked, returning it back to James.

  “With all due respect, may I ask why you are looking for her?”

  “That’s confidential. However, I just want to let you know that she’s a wicked child.”

  James said, while putting the picture back.

  His eyes suddenly became dull.

  Grace instantly got the chills.

  As if he was going to get killed by something unknown.

  Even though James had left, his shaking did not stop.

  Smoking a cigarette in a vacant lot, where the shooter could be seen, Grace thought about James.

  ‘He didn’t feel human… more like a well sharpened knife.’

  It was the first time for him to have met that type of person.

  Are they allowed to be called human beings?

  The emergence of the human, that never encounter before cause confusion.

  After r a long contemplation and calming of his heart, Grace realized that he smoked the whole pack..

  His throat began to hurt.

  Grace returned to the office and drank a glass of water. He suddenly recalled a long forgotten man, and his words.

  ‘Oh, that guy. Right. He did.’

  The Asian who abruptly came and asked if I was looking for a girl.

  Something wasn’t right.

  Grace looked at the business card James left.

  Chapter 4

  On the way to the bunker, there was a destroyed tank, standing all alone.

  Jackal stopped in his tracks to look at the tank.

  It was a Panther tank that had been famous for its balance of attack, defense and speed.

  “I never expected to find you here.”

  Jackal had a weakness for tanks.

  He had lost his childhood in abuse and pain, but being a boy, he still had a streak of childhood innocence left in him.

  Jackal circled the tank, appreciating its dimensions, touching it with his hands, kicking it with his feet and looking at it with profound affection.

  “Panthers are always beautiful. It can’t be compared with the American matchbox-tanks. Let’s see who ended this beautiful Panther.”

  Near the turret of the tank was a hole.

  The size of the perforation was bigger than what he normally seen.

  “Must have gotten a direct hit from a heavy caliber. The only thing that could make a hole this big is a JSU-152, a self-propelled artillery...”

  Jackal slowly looked at the tracks where the tank had stopped, and its surrounding corners.

  He quickly reached a conclusion.

  “The Panther had been ambushed by a self-propelled artillery while advancing forward. It must’ve trusted the front glove and advanced. If it was a T-34, it would’ve been a different story. This wasn’t anywhere near able to protect itself from a monster artillery.”

  Jackal sat on top of the turret of the Panther, paying his respects to the destroyed tank and the dead crew, and jumped to the ground.

  Jackal’s expression stiffened.

  ‘Damn it. Now, of all times.”

  Beyond the street, a soviet crowd was approaching.

  He didn’t know who they were, but seeing that there was a military dog with them, they weren’t just regular guys.

  Jackal knew that once they detected him, disappearing wouldn’t be a wise decision.

  Unnecessary doubt would make them track him down, and soviet soldiers liked killing suspects without trial, or sending them off to the Siberia prison camp.

  Jackal pressed his hat and walked towards them.

  As they got closer., he could hear heavy breathing and the dog’s scrambling feet.

  He had his head down, but Jackal still felt the cold eyes watching him.

  Emotionless and ice-cold eyes.

  From his peripheral view, he could see the red armbands attached to their uniforms.

  ‘It’s the NKVD. Just my luck.’

  The NKVD’s official name was Narodnyy Komissariat Vnutrennikh Del, the council of people’s commissars.

  But in reality, they were a group of secret police officers.

  Rather than proper soldiers, they were enlisted men of Stalin and their leader, Beria. They were gritty people who exercised their power on the national army and prisoners.

  “Hey, hold up.”

  One guy said in Russian.

  Jackal froze, and answered in German, pointing at himself.

  “Me? Commander?”

  He faked an expression of fear, as if he didn’t know anything.

  Jackal expressed confusion while turning his head towards the terrifying military dog and the soviet soldiers, who were staring back at him.

  He was a cowardly countryman, without question.

  Jackal felt a couple of them lose interest and their cold stares disappeared.

  However, the guy who talked to him first was sill staring frostily.

  “Asian. Where are you from?”

  He asked in German this time.

  “Chi…Chinese.”

  “Chinese? Why is a Chinese man here? Don’t tell me you came here to study?”

  Jackal knew better than anyone about the ways of the NKVD.

  It wasn’t a good choice to answer positively or negatively to the questions of the NKVD. No matter what he chose, another question would be asked.

  So the best way to answer them was neither positive nor negative, but a third answer that would be pretty plausible.

  Jackal plann
ed a scenario in an instant and said in an inarticulate tone.

  He didn’t forget to put in a conscious Chinese accent as he talked.

  “I followed my father because he was an importer, and got trapped in the war.”

  “You should have a passport.”

  The military dog growled.

  Jackal glanced at the guy’s eyes.

  Blue eyes that were lost in the darkness, deprived from emotions.

  He had seen a lot of lies.

  He would gaze down at everything – every expression, every accent, every cause and effect, every order of each word – and catch any inconsistency, even if it was as small as a grain of rice.

  Jackal thought the guy was a bit overwhelming.

  “I lost my entire luggage. I used to live in Dresden, but everything burned in the bombing. I was thankful for my life.”

  “When were you in Dresden?”

  Sharp questions kept on flying at him.

  Jackal answered without any hesitation

  “Around February this year. Fortunately, I was requisitioned as a laborer, and escaped disaster by moving anti-aircrafts in the suburbs.

  “Is that so?”

  The guy gazed at Jackal for a while and nodded.

  The soldier with the dog leash walked over to Jackal.

  The dog bared his teeth and growled in a low voice, and started barking ferociously.

  The man smiled coldly at the dog’s reaction, and said,

  “Dmitry smells something. What you hiding?”

  “Oh…it’s probably this.”

  Jackal started to pull out a stackable side-dish box from his bosom.

  * Schklikt, klikt*

  Before he pulled it out, the guns of the soviet soldiers all aimed at Jackal.

  “Officers. It’s nothing dangerous!.”

  Jackal raised a hand high in the air, and with the other hand, he opened the box.

  “Um…what’s this?”

  The military dog shoved its snout to the box and sniffed around. Jackal hurriedly closed the box, stared up at the officer, and complained.

  “It’s chicken soup. I’m taking it to someone I know, for she is unwell.”

  The dog smacked his lips and showed a strong tenacity towards the box.

  The soviet soldiers looked down at Jackal and finally moved their feet.

  “Let’s go now.”

  Finally, the tough soldier seemed to have lost interest in him.

  Jackal stood there for a while, staring at their backs, feeling an adrenaline rush through his whole body.

  “Whew…it was a good fight.”

  Fights aren’t only done on battlefields with bullets.

  Situations like this, where each word used can be decided for life and death, was also an important battle for Jackal.

  Feeling the weight of the war weaponry hidden in his baggy coat, Jackal thumped forward.

  ‘If I learn Wugong, will I be able to crush them with my bare hands?’

  He enjoyed the moment of blissful imagination, something that hadn’t come to him for a long time.

  *

  “Welcome. You look tired.”

  Their third meeting.

  This time, Marie-Louise greeted Jackal with a bright smile.

  Jackal replied to Marie-Louise’s hospitality by putting his gun down.

  “I ran into trouble on my way here. The NKVD.”

  Just thinking about it made him shiver.

  Jackal sighed deeply.

  Marie-Louise looked at Jackal, and said in a cheerful voice,

  “Oh, those human butchers. Haha I’m glad you survived even with your weapons. If they had caught you with them, you would’ve been on the train to Siberia, not here.”

  “If that happened, I would’ve killed them beforehand.”

  “Oh, aren’t you cocky.”

  “Of course. My name’s well known among the U.S military.”

  Jackal looked around, feeling much better.

  Something was missing. Something important, that had symbolized the room.

  “Huh? Where’s your uncle?”

  Jackal noticed that the corpse that had been in the middle of the room had disappeared.

  Not only the corpse, but all traces of the gangrene and maggots that had come with it, had been wiped clear.

  “I cremated him in the incineration plant.”

  Marie-Louise closed her eyes and crossed her heart.

  “Impressive for someone with two broken legs.”

  “I had no choice. If you are with an old corpse for too long, you could catch the poison from it. I just closed my eyes and took care of it.”

  As she finished her words, Marie-Louise lifted a crutch off the ground, and pulled her body up vertically with the help of her other crutch.

  “I can use my crutch as limbs, now that I’m used to it.”

  Marie-Louise smiled at Jackal’s surprised and returned to her normal position.

  “It’s like I’m watching a circus act.”

  Jackal was surprised inside but pretended like he wasn’t, and spoke calmly. He didn’t know why, but for some reason, he didn’t want to give off the impression that he was under the control of an unidentified girl that endlessly surprised him.

  “Anyways, take this.”

  Jackal took out the sealed side-dish box from his bag and handed it over to her.

  “Oh, is this for me?”

  Marie-Louise took it with both hands, with the crutches under her armpits.

  “What is it?”

  The box she received was still a bit warm.

  “Someone I know made it this morning. And it saved my life. It might not satisfy a rich girl like you, but you should eat it – it’s better than dry crackers."

  Marie-Louise opened the box and looked at its contents with an interesting look.

  “Oooh, chicken soup. A smell I yearned for. Thank you.”

  “We’ll leave once you are well.”

  Jackal said bluntly. Contrary to the attitude of Jackal, Marie-Louise consistently smiled and said,

  “I’m sure I’ll recover quickly with this delicious soup.”

  “Ok, eat later. I’m here to learn what was promised yesterday.”

  Jackal got straight to business.

  “Oh, already? I was here all day alone in the basement. I’d like to chat for a bit.”

  Marie blinked her eyes.

  “I’m not just someone you could talk to. I’m too busy.”

  Jackal bluntly responded but suddenly strong fatigue rushed in.

  He felt slightly dizzy.

  ‘Ugh..Is it because I didn’t get enough sleep? I’m tired. And I did meet the NKVD.’

  Jackal had actually stayed up the whole night, because the strong impression left by Marie-Louise yesterday had echoed loudly in his head.

  ‘What could she be? A ghost? A monster? Or is she what they call in the West – a witch -, or what they call back home – a Taoist sorcerer?’

  Whatever she was, she was something that transcended human beings.

  And she was willing to share her knowledge with him.

  It was a situation that reminded him of a scene from a folk tale.

  Jackal wanted to see with his own eyes what Wugong was, as soon as possible.

  “Quickly.”

  “Here.”

  Marie-Louise Lane handed a notebook and a pen to Jackal from her pocket.

  It was what Jackal had given Marie the day before.

  Jackal took the notebook and checked its contents with inquiring eyes.

  A few moments later, Jackal’s hands started to tremble slightly.

  “Is this…Wugong?”

  His voice was sharp, as if he was interrogating.

  “What is this?”

  Jackal opened the notebook in front of Marie-Louise and accused her.

  Inside the notebook were densely packed Chinese characters.

  “Don't you know how to read it? You told me you had read the nine Chinese cla
ssics, so I wrote it in its original form. Is something wrong?”

  “I’m not talking about that.”

  “Then, what’s the problem?”

  “I’m asking if these playful, barely understandable phrases are what Wugong is about.”

  It was natural for him to be furious.

  He wanted something more immediate, colorful, and dramatic, not a few words scribbled in a notebook.

  “I think there was a misunderstanding.”

  Marie-Louise’s eyes sank coldly.

  Jackal felt an eeriness coming out of her, but he did not back down.

  “What I wrote down there is the art of the inner force. It is the art of inner force that I have devised in my fourth life.”

  “The art of the inner force?”

  “People call the art of the inner and outer force as Wugong. If I have to explain with modern terminology…hm…tank would be good. You’ll know a lot about it, having been in war.”

  “Tank? Tank... of course. That’s good.”

  At the mention of tanks, Jackal loosened his stiffened expression.

  He started to feel interested.

  Marie-Louise’s shining green eyes didn’t lose him.

  “You should know this from war, but a great tank has a thick glove, strong firepower, and a strong electric power to support it. Like a Tigger tank.”

  “Tiggers are excellent tanks. Very good. Perfect balance, an engine sound that roars like a tiger from Mt.Baekdu, and an 88 caliber tank gun so powerful that it smashed America’s cans!”

  Jackal talked dreamily, his hazy eyes staring into space, as if he was drawing an ideal lover in his mind.

  “Nothing can be any more beautiful in this world! Personally, I feel like the sequel Quenis Tigger is, well, too big. Unnecessarily. Not my type. Tigger is an inspiration to all tanks, and I repeat, nothing can be more beautiful in this world!

  “That’s a great compliment. How about me? Aren’t I prettier?”

  With a confident smile, Marie-Louise slyly asked Jackal.

  No matter how beautiful a tank was, she was sure that it couldn’t compare with her.

  Jackal put on a serious face and answered her.

  “No, Tiggers are much more beautiful.”

  “......”

  Marie-Louise was slightly offended.

  “If we really had to choose, the one thing comparable to Tigger’s beauty would be a Panthers.”