World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

Koji felt a sharp pain in his chest, but dared not move. He could smell the tobacco and alcohol in Aoki's breath—clearly, the captain had also attended the Germans' celebration last night.

"The Navy?" Aoki scoffed, his voice full of contempt. "Those idiots sitting on clean warships, drinking coffee, enjoying the sea breeze—what do they know about war? Do they know what it's like to spend a night crouching in trenches at minus ten degrees Celsius? Do they know what it feels like to have bullets whizzing past their ears during a charge? Do they know the temperature of blood splattering on their hands when a bayonet pierces someone's body?"

His voice grew louder and louder, echoing through the barn.

"The Empire doesn't need more warships! What the Empire needs are soldiers like you—no, not like you now!" Aoki suddenly erupted in fury, kicking Koji in the shoulder. "Spineless! Spineless envious of Navy idiots!"

Koji screamed and collapsed onto his side in the haystack. Yesterday's injuries hadn't healed, and today he was wounded again. The excruciating pain made his vision blur and his stomach churn.

Still not satisfied, Aoki raised his heavy military boot and kicked Koji hard in the side. "You eight idiots! I'll make you envy the Navy! I'll make you want to be a Navy idiot!"

"Captain, please calm down!" Yamada mustered his courage and stepped forward. "Koji was just saying it casually; he didn't mean it that way..."

"Shut up!" Aoki slapped Yamada hard across the face, the force causing the burly private to stagger back several steps. "You want to get hit too?"

Yamada covered his face and retreated to the wall, not daring to say another word.

Aoki continued to punch and kick Koji. His boots pounded into his ribs, back, and thighs, each blow producing a dull thud. Koji huddled in the haystack, gritting his teeth to stifle his sobs. Pain burned like fire throughout his body, but the humiliation was even more unbearable—being beaten like a dog in front of so many people.

Why? He was simply stating the truth. Wouldn't it be a good thing if the Empire truly had a powerful navy? Aren't the army and navy both serving the Empire?

"Listen up!" Aoki, exhausted and panting, pointed at Koji on the ground and said to everyone, "In this regiment, under my command, anyone who dares to say they envy the Navy, anyone who dares to mention warships and cannons, I'll show them what the army does!"

He bent down, grabbed Koji's hair, and forced him to raise his head.

"Remember, kid. Your life belongs to the Army, your glory is earned in the trenches. No matter how tough those Navy tanks are, they can't win this war. The final victory will be decided here—" He released his grip, patting Koji's straw-covered face, "...the lives of millions of Army soldiers like you. Understand?"

Koji's lips trembled, and tears finally streamed down his face, mixing with the dust on his face to form dirty tear stains.

"I understand..." he said hoarsely.

"Speak louder!"

"Understood, Captain!"

Aoki straightened up with satisfaction and straightened his uniform. "We have a mission tonight. Your squad will go. Koji, you'll lead the team. If you don't bring back any valuable intelligence..." He didn't finish his sentence, but his meaning was clear.

After saying that, he turned and left the barn. The sound of his boots faded into the distance, finally disappearing outside the door.

The barn was deathly silent. After a long while, Yamada and the others dared to come over and help Koji up.

"Are you alright?" Yamada asked softly, blood still seeping from the corner of his mouth.

Koji shook his head, each movement aggravating his injuries. He was helped to lie down on a makeshift bed on the floor, where someone brought water and a cloth to wipe the blood from his face.

"You too," Nakamura sighed, "saying those kinds of things in front of Captain Aoki... Everyone knows he's from the Choshu Domain and hates the Navy the most."

"I...I just..." Koji wanted to explain, but didn't know what to say.

"Stop talking, get some rest." Yamada patted him. "We have patrolling tonight."

Koji closed his eyes. The physical pain persisted, but the more painful pain was the confusion and resentment in his heart. What he learned at the Kumagai training camp was "loyalty to the Empire," and "all soldiers are brothers." But what was the reality? The army was fighting the navy, the Choshu Domain looked down on the Satsuma Domain, and officers were arbitrarily beating soldiers…

Is this the empire he fought for?

German singing drifted from outside the barn. It was the neighboring German barracks celebrating; the singing was loud and cheerful, full of genuine joy. There was laughter, the clinking of glass bottles, and the accompaniment of an accordion.

Here, there is only silence, pain, and confusion.

Koji opened his eyes and gazed at the high log roof of the barn. The light from the kerosene lamp cast flickering shadows between the beams, like ghosts dancing.

He remembered what his younger brother Kenta had said before he left home: "Brother, bring me foreign candy when you come back."

Is it possible to go back?

Will I ever see Kenta again?

He didn't know. All he knew was that he was leading a patrol that night, heading into that no-man's-land known as the "death zone." And Captain Aoki's request likely meant that another comrade might not return.

Tears streamed down his face again, but this time he didn't wipe them away. He turned to the side and buried his face in the straw.

The straw smelled musty, earthy, and a little bloody—perhaps his own blood.

This is war.

This is the path he chose.

As night fell completely, Kim Soon-sik's squad assembled at their attack position.

This was the most forward section of the British defensive line, less than two hundred meters from the German front. Twenty men, including Captain Park, Kim Soon-sik, Lee Sung-chan, and seventeen other soldiers from Cho County, checked their equipment: Type 38 rifles, bayonets, two Mills grenades, canteens, and ration bags—usually containing half a compressed biscuit and a small piece of cheese.

They didn't have helmets. They wore British soft caps because the equipment issued to the "Eastern Auxiliary Force" was always second-rate.

Captain Park gave his final instructions, his voice low: "Remember, our objective is to confirm activity within the abandoned trench. If it's an observation post, do not launch a full-scale assault. Mark its location and retreat. If you encounter resistance, retreat immediately. Do not linger. Survival is more important than glory, understand?"

"Understood." came the sparse reply.

"Also," Captain Park glanced behind the trench—Lieutenant Watanabe was observing from there—"move quietly and quickly. We're in the open, the enemy is in the shadows."

They set off at 9 p.m. sharp.

Lee Sung-chan was the first to climb out of the trench. He moved as nimbly as a cat, observing the edge of the trench for a few seconds before flipping over and quickly rolling into the nearest shell crater. Next was Kim Soon-sik, and then the others. The twenty men split into three groups, advancing under cover of the shell craters and the corpses.

The moonlight was obscured by clouds, reducing visibility to less than twenty meters. But this provided them with cover—German snipers also had difficulty aiming in such light.

Kim Soon-sik followed closely behind Lee Sung-chan. The two had already cooperated on numerous nighttime infiltrations and had developed a tacit understanding. Lee Sung-chan was responsible for listening—his ears were extremely sharp, able to distinguish the subtle differences between the sound of wind, the scurrying of mice, and the sound of human breathing. Kim Soon-sik was responsible for seeing—his night vision was excellent, allowing him to discern the outline of barbed wire and the protrusions of the ground in dim light.