Chapter 32

Opening (3)

July, 1916.
Washington, D.C., United States.

Newton Baker, the Secretary of War—and the youngest cabinet member—had to deliver a report to President Woodrow Wilson.

Despite holding the position of Secretary of War, Baker was practically a complete outsider when it came to military matters. But what could he do? The times demanded war.
Seated beside him was Attorney General Thomas Gregory, and alongside them sat several military officials.

“Alright. That matter is settled—let’s move on to the next.”

As if to shake off the heavy atmosphere, Wilson flicked the papers in his hand lightly.

“Understood. With the cooperation of the California state government, the BOI conducted a search and investigation into a small publishing company.”
“Were there any legal issues?”
“It was discovered that the publisher had been secretly distributing subversive leftist materials underground. We happened upon it by chance, but there should be no legal complications.”

Wilson nodded, signaling him to continue. The Attorney General resumed his report.

“As a result of investigating those involved in publishing the book in question, , we identified the author as a Korean-American named Yuin Kim, residing in San Francisco, and immediately began questioning him.
Yuin Kim claimed that he merely received the manuscript, and that his elder brother is the true author.”

“His brother?”
“I will explain from here.”

Colonel Biddle, the Superintendent of West Point who had been urgently summoned to Washington, spoke up.

An aide distributed new documents to the president and those present. They all reviewed the personal file of an Asian man.

“Yujin Kim. He entered West Point in June 1911 and is currently serving as a second lieutenant. He was noted as the first Asian-American cadet in West Point’s history.”
“He’s already a lieutenant?”
“Lieutenant Kim recently participated in the Mexican Expedition and was promoted after being credited with killing one of Pancho Villa’s close associates.”
“His grades… are average. Not particularly top-tier.”

Tilting his head, Wilson’s eyes lit up as he noticed something unusual in the file.

“Ah—he had ties with Syngman Rhee. That explains it. And he married the daughter of Congressman Curtis? Promising, indeed. Though I’m not too fond of his Republican connections.”
“The pen name he used—‘Dwight van Bradley’—was derived from the names of close friends he had during his cadet days. There is no doubt that he is the true author.”

After a brief pause, Colonel Biddle carefully brought up the matter he had hesitated to mention.

“And the report he wrote during his time at the academy is the very document we have submitted—.”

Silence fell over the room.

Wilson quietly picked up the copy of the report before him. Despite having read it several times already, it still gave him a headache. One by one, everyone present began reviewing it again.

“I have no knowledge of war or military affairs. I can tell it’s something quite dreadful, but I cannot understand what this report means in military terms. Could someone explain it?”

The Army Chief of Staff, Hugh L. Scott, stroked his white mustache before speaking.

“To put it bluntly, the future war envisioned in this report is one where millions of soldiers die meaninglessly in trenches, while both sides endlessly send reinforcements simply to avoid being pushed back. It is, in essence… a massive slaughterhouse.”

“Is that even possible? At that scale, wouldn’t political or diplomatic compromise become inevitable?”
“It is exactly what is happening across the Atlantic right now, Mr. President.”

Wilson was left speechless.

“Madness… utter madness. Everyone has lost their minds. If the situation in Europe is truly that dire, then the United States has a moral obligation to mediate. Summon the ambassadors again—we must persuade them to end this insane war.”
“That will likely be difficult.”

The Secretary of State shook his head with a grim expression.

“Your words are correct, and the leaders of Europe are fully aware of it as well. But after shedding such an immense amount of blood, if the result is merely a ceasefire or maintaining the status quo, revolutions—likely communist—will erupt immediately. At this point, no one wants the war to end like that.”

“Madness… truly a mad age. How can people who possess both Christian ethics and scientific civilization commit such insanity among themselves…”

After his lament, Wilson turned his gaze back to the report.

“So then, is the significance of this report simply that it predicts such a bleak future?”
“No, sir. The report proposes various methods and concepts to overcome such a ‘slaughterhouse’ state. Moreover, many of these concepts are the very lessons that European nations have only come to realize after shedding immense blood.”

“You’re telling me that the hard-earned lessons bought with the blood of tens or hundreds of thousands—no, millions—of Europeans are all contained in a report written by a single cadet at West Point?”
“It may even have foreseen them earlier—and further—than those lessons.”

“…Huh.”

The only sound in the room was the rustling of paper.

“Private enterprises have already taken interest in this report. The Ford Company was the quickest to approach Lieutenant Kim and has begun developing what the report refers to as an ‘armed tractor.’”
“Ford is currently supporting Lieutenant Kim in various ways. Details have been submitted in the report.”
“Prior to the Mexican Expedition, Lieutenant Kim was fully engaged in the development of this armed tractor. The weapon jointly developed by him and Ford is currently undergoing testing in Europe, and I hear the evaluations from Europeans have been quite positive.”

After listening to the report, Wilson spoke with some confusion.

“But… does this really need to come all the way up to me? Shouldn’t the War Department or the Army analyze and handle this internally?”

“It was brought to your attention because there has been a proposal to send this report to the Europeans, even at this stage.”

“That will not happen.”

Wilson answered immediately.

“We are a neutral nation. No matter that this is merely the work of a cadet, we cannot be the ones to assist one side first. We will not involve ourselves in Europe’s war, and we will continue to wish for peace among the Europeans.”

“Understood, Mr. President.”

“I will emphasize this once again—there will be no war. My reelection slogan will be anti-war and neutrality. If you want war, go to that damned Republican Party. I won’t stop you. But if you wish to remain in my cabinet, then review all matters with neutrality as your highest priority.”

The atmosphere turned icy.

Some of the military officials moved their lips as if to speak, but no one dared bring up war preparations in front of a displeased president. Anyone foolish enough to do so would never have made general in the first place.

“Let’s move on to the next agenda.”

The meeting continued.

**

After the meeting ended, the military generals and Secretary Baker immediately convened a smaller session to carry out the president’s directives.

“That damned report.”

The Secretary spoke as a thought struck him.

“Why was such a report buried for so long, only to be dug up now?”

“The previous superintendent, Brigadier General Tinsley, underestimated its value.”

“Isn’t that insane?”

Seeing the Secretary’s expression twist in irritation, Chief of Staff Scott quickly stepped in to defend him.

“But it was also the general who brought the report’s existence to light. Whoever had been superintendent at the time would likely have thought the same. I myself once served as superintendent of West Point, but even I would not have taken that… dreadful content as a prophecy.”

At Scott’s words, the Secretary had no choice but to concede. Just as no one in Troy heeded Cassandra’s prophecy, perhaps it had been inevitable. If anything, it was fortunate it had surfaced now.

“Then what should we do with that young man? He’s clearly brilliant—should we send him to Europe?”

“If we send an Asian, they’ll take it as an insult and raise a fuss. There’s no need for that. Rather, we should keep him as close to the War Department as possible.”

He spoke firmly.

“There are plenty of bold officers in the field. But an officer with this level of insight—and who is already showing outstanding results in ongoing training assignments—is rare. General Bell has also highly praised the young officer’s future and stressed that he must not be wasted meaninglessly on the battlefield.”

“I see. Then should we at least send his report to the Navy—”
“No.”
“I thought so. Those fellows wouldn’t listen to the Army anyway.”

The Navy, proud as ever—why would they listen to some Asian second lieutenant? And it’s not as if that officer would know anything about naval matters.

Seeing Scott’s serious expression at his offhand remark, the Secretary reconsidered his tone.

“Regardless, the President’s position is firm—there will be no entry into the war. Let us focus our utmost efforts on expanding the reserves and preparing for emergencies.”

“New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, Oklahoma… you who came from all across the country—starting today, you graduate from being maggots!”

At my booming voice, smiles spread across the candidates’ faces.

“Well done! In just one short month, you’ve learned a great deal. Now go home, and don’t forget what you’ve learned until the nation calls upon you!”

“Lieutenant Kim, thank you for your hard work!”

“As long as you know I worked hard, that’s enough! Now get lost! Get the hell out of here and go home! Don’t ever show your faces in front of me again!!”

At last, I was rid of these damned candidates.

These thirty days had been nothing but suffering. Thank God it was a joint civilian-military program. Every time I tried to design a training curriculum, I kept getting rejected with things like, “We don’t have the budget,” or “That’s too expensive,” and my patience kept wearing thinner and thinner.

The guys who had endured thirty days of my intense “training and love” now looked at me with shining eyes. Was this that famous Stockholm syndrome? Or were Americans just naturally wired to be masochists?

Now that the rear-area duties were more or less finished, all that remained was to apply for reassignment.

After building up this much merit, there’s no way they won’t send me to the front. I’ve also been doing my fair share of flattering General Bell whenever I get the chance, so I should expect a good outcome.

A few more training assignments, and it’ll be 1917.

America’s entry into the war isn’t far off.

At the time the National Defense Act was passed, almost no one seriously considered early American intervention.
With limits like “10,000 officers and 200,000 troops,” it was obvious the United States wasn’t yet prepared to step into Europe, where millions were locked in brutal combat.

No matter how loudly interventionists shouted, most Americans still supported anti-war neutrality. German-Americans were especially desperate, and religious groups largely viewed war as sinful.

But America will enter the war.

A future only I can be certain of.

In just one year, the world will be turned upside down, and the giant—unaware of its own immense size—will finally awaken.

And the seeds I’ve planted will elevate me to the rank of a prophet.

The Republican Party will love that.

Europe is calling me.

A future where I don’t enter the war?
There’s no such future for me.