The Little Prince in the Ossuary

00069

#Intermission, willingness to fight, and combat fatigue (2)

After “The End,” combat fatigue was an expression of trauma. As a result, it could appear on a daily basis—that was, if people’s daily lives could be compared to battle.

Therefore, combat fatigue management was a key component of community operations. In order to operate more efficiently, leaders needed to contain, or sometimes encourage, combat fatigue in their members.

Yes, that’s right. You didn’t read it wrong. Intentionally creating combat fatigue was one of the key pieces of know-how in community operations and human resources management.

To give an example, people’s trauma was highly likely to influence their political orientation. A traumatized person wouldn’t want to go through that experience again. So if the pain they had suffered were likely to be reproduced at all, they would instinctively reject the situation. It was an instinct for self-preservation, in which there was no room for rational judgment.

In reality, the political conservatism of war veterans was the best example. Because they had been through such a terrible experience, they would consider their survival and the maintenance of their community to be basic values.

This was also a means of creating enthusiastic supporters.

Of course, this was only an option. If someone were a truly outstanding leader, they could raise enough support without using these measures. This would also be the moral path to take.

On the other hand, combat fatigue could be an opportunity for growth. As Nietzsche said in his work Twilight of the Idols, “That which does not kill me makes me stronger.” Haven’t you heard a story about a person who only got stronger after overcoming mental wounds?

After “The End,” this approach was implemented in a way that its potential was expanded. It was a similar category as growth by accumulating experience, but it was distinct in the system, meaning that it was completely separate from reinforcement by skill acquisition.

Of course, this was not easy. You had to leave only mental wounds that the subject could bear, but each person has different limitations. The key was how much one could “interpret” those limits. It would be impossible if your “Detection” wasn’t supported.

In some cases, it was not possible at all. The core of the leadership type “Inspection” meant that both the way it worked and the efficiency varied completely depending on your qualifications and preferences.

#Journal, p. 91, Camp Roberts

Three days had passed since returning to camp.

In the meantime, the troop presence had been increased, and the camp commander had been replaced. As the status of Camp Roberts had been increased, so had the rank of commander. Now, the commander of the Seventh California regiment would serve as the camp commander.

The former commander of the Third Battalion was disciplined, and the attempt to pass all the blame on to the operations manager failed. Because this incident was such a big deal, the containment command sent a full-fledged investigation team. There were many witnesses to the battalion commander’s negligence. On Christmas Eve, he had fallen into a state of intoxication. He wasn’t expecting to be in an emergency.

The problem was the new commander. Port Hunter Riggett had helped successfully stop the night attack, but not as much as Camp Roberts. Many people had been killed, the former regimental commander of Seventh California among them. He had been stationed in Hunter Riggett with the Second Battalion. He’d been unlucky. He reported that he was going on a night patrol to console the soldiers on Christmas Eve and died as soon as the attack began. Sincerity in a person could be very detrimental.

Thanks to that, the post of camp commander had been vacant for the previous few days. It took three days for a new regimental commander to be appointed. In the meantime, Lieutenant Colonel Farrell Ramos, the First Battalion commander, had acted as the commander.

And today… the commander of the regiment arrived.

There was no such thing as an inauguration ceremony. Most of the troops had been deployed to strengthen their alertness, and the regiment itself did not want to waste time on unnecessary events.

However, I received a personal call.

“Nice to meet you, lieutenant. I’m Lieutenant Colonel Gerald M. Laughlin, 160th Regiment. I will be in charge of Camp Roberts from today… Oh, I’m a colonel now. I’m sorry, I haven’t adjusted to the new rank yet.”

The black-skinned regimental commander covered his mistake quite nicely.

The commander’s mistake was due to his promotion. Regardless of the original rank, the system granted temporary ranks necessary for performing duties.

A lieutenant colonel usually headed the command of the U.S. military regiment. However, Laughlin had been promoted to colonel to serve as a camp commander, command support units other than a regiment, and bring refugee support forces together.

The same went for the commander of the Third Battalion, who had been dismissed. He had become a lieutenant colonel while serving as a camp commander, but his actual rank was major. His salary would have been paid at the level of a major.

There was only one more mistake he made.

“Excuse me, my rank is second lieutenant.”

The commander smiled quietly. “No, you’ll have to adjust to a new class. Come closer.”

As he approached, he removed my rank and attached a new one.

“Surprised?”

Wanting to be honest, I said, “Yes.” Colonel Laughlin then patted me on the shoulder.

“Don’t be. You were supposed to be promoted early on. I just moved it up. Even so, it’s true that you’re breaking all the records for youngest promotions… though I think it’s nothing compared to what you’ve done. That’s the real reward.”

I had a guess when I heard that. It meant he intended to give me another medal. It had been less than half a year since I applied to the U.S. military, and it was already the fourth time I would receive one.

First, I had received the Order of Merit for Military Merit and the Medal of Valor, and then the Order of Merit for Service after visiting Atascadero.

Looking at the colonel’s expression, the level of “real reward” he’d mentioned seemed to be quite high.

Was it the Medal of Honor?

Sergeant Pierce’s words came to mind. My achievements had been enough to warrant the Medal of Honor from the beginning, but the higher-ups had seemed to prefer giving me low-level medals to induce mutual checks among refugees.

“You’re going to Washington. I heard that the council unanimously agreed to your service. We’ll leave tonight by plane, and we’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.”

The regimental commander turned my doubts into conviction. It was a medal that needed congressional approval and required me to go all the way to Washington. It was hard to think of anything else it could be.

He reached out to me. “It’s an honor to meet a true hero.”

He had a firm grip. From his ever-serious eyes, I realized my renewed position.

The current situation was the reason for the medal.

It was surprising that the mutants had infiltrated on a planned basis, but the EMP attack was beyond imagination. I heard that the death toll of civilians alone was more than 80,000 people. Several garrisons had been erased from the map, and some of the successful defense sites suffered considerable damage.

Camp Roberts was the only site that remained standing unharmed.

The bad news was being covered with good news.

I was determined when I decided to become a recruitment advert for the U.S. military, but I found that the role gradually became burdensome as it got bigger.

I didn’t think people even saw me as the same person anymore. A hero was only a tool that was eventually shaped according to their needs.

Because of this, my answer was bound to be calm.

“I couldn’t have done it without the help of others. Thank you for your words, but I don’t think I’m the only one who deserves to be honored.”

“Of course, the investigation team sent from the command didn’t just look at the crime. A few more people besides you have been selected for a special promotion. Captain Capston is the representative. You’ll also be awarded a medal. So you don’t have to feel too much pressure.”

After asking more questions, I found that most of Charlie’s company was eligible for the promotion.

Captain Capston was in line for a two-rank promotion. He was being promoted to the top as a major and to the position of lieutenant colonel. It was explained that this was because he was in charge of the vacant battalion commander position.

The regiment commander remained friendly to me until the meeting was over.

#Journal, p. 92, Washington, D.C.

I’m writing this after coming back from Washington.

The accommodation was at the White House. Not that it could really be called accommodation since I only stayed for a while, but there’s no other term that fits.

All the time I was there, I was thoroughly monitored. Everyone seemed concerned about me escaping. They called it security, but I thought it was a little too much to have a platoon attached only to me.

Such worries were no exaggeration. All refugees dreamed of living in the civilized world, east of the blockade. From their point of view, of course I would attempt to escape. And if I escaped, they wouldn’t be confident of catching me, which would have a huge social impact.

Not that I wanted to escape in the first place, but in any case, I was a war hero. I had no intention of escaping; I had people to take responsibility for.

However, the scenery outside the window was beautiful. Outside the fence, a snowy white garden, a fountain rising beyond, and the grace of the Washington Monument in the distance. It would have been even better without people flocking to see me.

I didn’t have to worry about mutant attacks. The peace of mind I felt there was really special. It made me desperate to take a walk.

Just in case, I asked if I could.

Of course, it was rejected. The air became heavier, and I regretted that I had said it for nothing. I told them that they could put handcuffs on me if they were worried, which utterly shocked them.

It was only a joke to ease the atmosphere.

The award ceremony was simple enough not to need any rehearsal. It only took about twenty minutes. After walking out in front of the applauding crowd with the president, my role was just to stand still.

The rest belonged to the chief of staff, the chief of chaplains, and the president.

“Let’s pray.”

Everyone bowed down at a word from the head of the group.

Although I did not believe in Christianity or Catholicism, I, too, held my hands in front of my chest and closed my eyes.

“The Almighty and eternal Lord who has granted us the inheritance of this wonderful land and true faith, I ask you to join me in honor of this man who answered the call of duty in order to protect everything you have given him.

“Under your providence, Lieutenant Gyeo-ul saved countless lives with courage, honor, and dedication.

“By your grace, we believe that this man will continue to maintain the same virtue. Honor this hero in your name, who has newly embroidered the tapestry of our great nation. And I pray again that we Americans will continue each day with the same courage and sacrifice as this man and continue our history forever.

“Thank you for all the meetings and events you have allowed today so that this man can stand before us as the grace of the Lord. I also thank all the soldiers of the Army, Navy, Air Force, Marine Corps, Coast Guard, and Rangers who are fighting back in times of hardship and adversity…

“…Lastly, please regard Lieutenant Gyeo-ul as your joy, the people he seeks to protect, the nation he is willing to devote himself to. President Calvin Coolidge said, ‘A nation which forgets its defenders will be itself forgotten.’ As members of his country, we will give all the honor we can to this man who has protected public security, and we will never forget it. I swear this before you and your holy name. Amen.”

The United States was not a religious country, but it was like one in terms of tradition. As for me, it was hard to sympathize with the unique sentiment.

After that, it was time for the president to perform my part of the ceremony.

It was rather longer than the prayer. The president tried to sum up all the contributions I had accumulated so far, rather than just talking about the current incident.

The reason was probably the myriad of cameras set up before him.

I found myself speculating. As I had become more famous than I’d imagined, I had to think that my previous conferments were turning out to be a problem.

Objectively speaking, I should already have received the Medal of Honor after Paso Robles. It would not have been one of Pierce’s bosses who had doubts there.

Anyway, people from all classes at the ceremony responded with a warm round of applause at the end of every sentence the president said. In my opinion, their enthusiasm wasn’t just performative.

In front of a frame with thirteen white stars on a blue background, the president finally gave me a medal. This was the highest honor an American could receive, a star with a green laurel wreath. In the center was embossed the goddess of wisdom and war, Athena, and my name was engraved on the back.

「THE CONGRESSIONAL MEDAL OF HONOR FOR GYEO-UL HAN」

It was very rare for this to be awarded to a living recipient. It was actually known as a “dead soldier’s medal” because it was usually bestowed long after the recipient was dead.

After the ceremony, I had dinner with the president. When I asked for better treatment of refugees, he responded that he would positively review the situation. It was hard to tell whether it was just political words or a genuine sentiment.

This was how the visit to Washington, which was only for half a day, ended.

When I got on the return flight, the half-day’s memories felt unreal. It felt like I’d had a sad, colorful, and loud dream.

And so, I came back to reality. My reality, and the people I sympathized with.

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