Chapter 33

Opening (4)

Americans did not want war.
Until now, that had always been the fundamental premise.

There was no justification for intervening in Europe’s war.
Only imperialists, greedy for European interests, called for war—and they would be sitting comfortably in New York or Washington, counting money. In the end, it was always the common people who died miserably in Europe.

But as time went on, Germany’s attitude toward the United States grew increasingly hostile.
They sank perfectly fine passenger ships, sent spies to manipulate public opinion—there was nothing about them that left a good impression.

And then, on July 30, 1916—

A massive explosion and flames engulfed Black Tom Island, once again igniting anti-German sentiment.

The island itself was a vast munitions depot—a gathering hub where enormous quantities of American-produced supplies were stored before crossing the Atlantic.

“Damn Yankees! You claim neutrality, so why are you only selling supplies to Britain and France? How is that neutrality?”
“We’d love to sell to you too, but come on—the British have blockaded your seas, haven’t they? Beat the Royal Navy first, then we’ll gladly sell to you.”
“You sons of—”

Since the outbreak of the war, Germany’s sense of grievance had only escalated, eventually reaching the conclusion:

‘If Britain hasn’t starved yet despite our U-boats working this hard, it must be because of the Yankees.’

But launching unrestricted submarine warfare?
Under Wilson’s furious threats of entering the war, U-boat attacks on merchant vessels had to be carried out in a very “gentlemanly” manner.

And then Germany came up with a brilliant idea.

‘Those supplies stockpiled in America are essentially potential enemy resources. So… let’s blow them up.’

The result—

Through sabotage by German agents, a terrifying explosion reduced $20 million worth of munitions—equivalent to hundreds of millions in modern value—to ashes.

Next to Black Tom Island lay Liberty Island, home to the famous Statue of Liberty.

The massive explosion even reached it.

The iconic image—so often seen in Hollywood films of America’s destruction, the shattered Statue of Liberty—had manifested in reality in 1916.

Of course, it wasn’t completely destroyed—only the torch and parts of the robe were damaged. But to American citizens, the sight of the cracked and scorched statue was more shocking than anything they could have imagined.

Germany, in spectacular fashion, kept plucking at the whiskers of a sleeping tiger, as if taunting:

‘Still not awake? Even now?’

And in step with that terrible explosion—

Rat-tat-tat-tat!!

“You idiots! Get down properly! I said get down, you maggots!”

Yeah.

I was still stuck grinding away in the West.

Seriously… why…?
I’m competent, smart, and even polite. So why…?

“Because you’re competent—that’s why you’re here.”

My expression darkened even further.

Yes, yes, I know.
Training soldiers well is the most important mission for an army that’s rapidly expanding.

But at this rate, I’m going to become some kind of owl master, running around with recruits forever. Will I ever even see the light? Or is this some conspiracy from Washington not to send a “yellow” to the front? Am I destined to spend my entire life as Lieutenant Hartman Kim, a training machine?

My precious year of 1916 was wasted in this damned training camp.

At this point, I would’ve been better off sticking with Patton. At least then I could’ve gained combat experience or conducted field testing with tanks.

I pulled every string I could to escape this hellhole.

The result was brutal.

[Hohoho. My dear son-in-law. A reassignment, you say? In my view, training elite U.S. Army soldiers is the perfect position for you. Ah, don’t worry. Of course I’ll make sure you’re sent to the battlefield at the appropriate time for your advancement.
But now doesn’t seem like the right time. Above all, if I send you to the front now, some ill-tempered investor might get upset. Do take care.]

[Hohoho. Lieutenant Kim. A reassignment, you say? In my view, training elite U.S. Army soldiers is the perfect position for you. Ah, don’t worry. Of course I’ll ensure you go to the battlefield at the proper time for your advancement.
But now doesn’t seem like the right moment. More importantly, if I send you now, a certain hot-tempered senator might get angry. Take care.]

Damn old men.

They weren’t even trying to hide how blatantly they were colluding. Honestly, it might’ve been less insulting if they’d held hands, danced in a circle, and sung, “Haha, you’re not going!”

Of course, they did explain things properly afterward.

The War Department wanted to bring me to D.C., but these bastards were desperately blocking me from being assigned to the General Staff.

“To be honest, it wouldn’t be good for you to go to the General Staff right now.”
“What do you mean?”
“An Asian lieutenant promoted within a year. The high-ranking generals might not care, but the staff officers working there probably won’t like you much. Just stay where you are. The atmosphere in the General Staff won’t be favorable to you at all.”*

With that said, what choice did I have?

I stayed.

At least, as a small mercy, I was able to briefly visit Washington, D.C., where Dorothy was waiting.

Technically, I had gone to Detroit to receive some of the tanks—now entering full-scale production after field testing—for training use. But in Detroit, they told me:

“Oh, training units? Those are in D.C. You’ll have to pick them up there.”

Of course, it was a roundabout way of letting me visit Dorothy, so I gladly headed to Washington.

“I’m back.”
“Took you long enough.”

Since we couldn’t leave a newlywed wife alone—and couldn’t exactly bring a pregnant woman all the way to San Francisco—Dorothy had been staying at Congressman Curtis’s home in D.C.

And now…

It was time.

“Come here.”
“…Wait, let me take a breath—”
“Stop talking nonsense and get over here.”

The moment had come.

Slowly, I opened the door and approached a small crib.

“…Ah.”

I was speechless.

Inside, a tiny little life wriggled softly in its sleep.

I dropped to my knees and leaned closer, staring at this miraculous being.

“I can’t believe it…”
“Yeah. You’ve been running around Mexico and the West, then suddenly show up—and boom, there’s a baby. Of course you can’t believe it.”

The fire in my wife—who had been left alone for the entire ten months of pregnancy—was… quite intense.
The karma of a soldier ran deep and heavy.

“What’s his name?”
“Henry Dwight Kim. Just like you wrote.”

My mouth went dry.

My child.
I had lived two lives, but this was the first time a life carrying my blood had been born. It left me dizzy, almost overwhelmed.

“You.”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t touch him and wake him up for no reason.”
“Yes, ma’am.”

Of course. Waking him would definitely get me killed.

I stayed there, kneeling, watching the baby for a long time.

Looking at this tiny, wriggling little… baby Jesus, everything else in the world suddenly felt meaningless.
What glory or riches was I chasing, struggling to throw myself into the hell of Europe? Would that really matter more than making this child grow up without a father?

Now that I looked at him, he didn’t even look particularly Asian. At this rate, maybe he wouldn’t face much discrimination at all.

“You’ve got a really soft look on your face.”
“Huh?”
“You look like you’re thinking about quitting everything and just staying here, raising the baby.”

Dorothy’s words snapped me back to reality.

“…Me?”
“I know. I think about it several times a day too—wondering if I could just stay quietly in Washington, pushing a pen instead.”

So we really did think alike.

“But can you be satisfied with that?” she continued.
“When this child grows up, which will matter more—being there by his side, or the regret of the opportunity you let slip away?”

“…You don’t have to push me that hard.”

Honestly, Dorothy might be the perfect drill instructor.

The battlefield still seemed to be avoiding me—but how long could that last?

Now I knew for certain.

That day would come.

Germany, having completely lost its restraint, began to run wild—and America’s anger finally reached its limit.

Woodrow Wilson had been elected on a platform of anti-war and neutrality, but what awaited him in his second term was a constant stream of German provocations.

Unrestricted submarine warfare resumed, and American merchant ships began to sink.
German Foreign Minister Zimmermann sent a message—through a telegraph line Wilson himself had provided as a gesture of goodwill—proposing that Mexico join in attacking the United States. It was intercepted.

At the same time, in the East, the Russian Empire collapsed under the March Revolution.
The Russian army fell into a state of near-total paralysis, presenting Germany with what seemed like a heaven-sent opportunity.

They believed the chances of American intervention were low—and even if the U.S. did join, it lacked a proper army. They thought that simply shifting troops from the Eastern Front would be enough to handle it.

The result—

As one giant fell, another across the Atlantic finally awakened.

Wilson, who had twisted and resisted with all his might to avoid entering the war, was ultimately forced to accept his role: leading the nation into it.

April 6, 1917.
The United States officially declared war on Germany and entered the Great War.

The madness of war had finally crossed the Atlantic.

“What on earth did you do, exactly?”

Marshall—now a captain—raised his voice slightly.

Hey, why are you asking me?

“Damn it. I’ve been assigned to the American Expeditionary Forces. I’ll be deployed to France soon, once preparations are complete.”
“Congratulations. That’s a great opportunity.”
“That’s not the point! I strongly recommended that you, Lieutenant Kim, be included in the expeditionary forces as well. I even personally spoke with General Sibert about it.”

…That was unexpected. I didn’t realize Marshall thought that highly of me.

“But I was turned down. General Sibert listened carefully at first and even agreed to assign you. But a few days later, he suddenly changed his mind. So I’ll ask you again, Lieutenant—have you done something to offend Washington?”

Uh… it’s not that I offended anyone.
It’s just that I’m apparently too valuable to be thrown overseas.

“There’s nothing in particular.”
“You know something?”

Marshall clamped his mouth shut. That was the calm before the storm.

“I’ve spent enough time with you in the dirt to know that look. That’s the face you make when you’ve got something to hide.”
“…Well, actually… from what I’ve heard, a certain report I wrote in the past caused a bit of trouble…”
“A report? What kind of trouble could a report cause? Don’t tell me you wrote that we should side with Germany or something?”

Faced with his interrogation, I reluctantly handed him a copy of that report.

Marshall sat down right there and began reading through it quickly.
As he went on, his breathing grew heavier.

Uh oh.

This feels like a grenade pin just got pulled—

“You bastard! You’ve been deceiving me all this time! You wrote something like this and kept your mouth shut?!”
“No, I mean—”
“If I had read this, I wouldn’t send you either! You’ll rot in D.C. forever, pushing papers! You damned lunatic! You insane bastard! Do you know how I must have looked to General Sibert? Like a complete fool who can’t judge people! You scribble down a madman’s prophecy like this and still want to go to the front? Forget it!”

I mean… if I don’t write something like this, how is a “yellow monkey” supposed to make it to the battlefield?

My quiet protest died instantly under Marshall’s furious glare, which looked ready to twist my head off.

“Lieutenant Kim.”

“…Take care of things at home. Give my regards to your wife.”

And just like that, Marshall left me behind.

…Wait.

I’m not seriously going to miss deployment, am I?