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#Seventh California, Camp Roberts (4)
Escaping the mutants proved to be no big deal. They weren’t able to catch up with the vehicles’ speeds. The real problem was the quickly-spreading fire.
The closest station was Camp Roberts. However, they had to change their direction to avoid the fire, meaning a twenty-kilometer journey northwest of the battlefield. Throughout the journey, other combat units, rescued units, and civilians continuously joined the rescue mission.
‘Maybe I’ll see someone I know.’
If the containment command had deployed all available resources, Santa Margarita’s Rangers would have been no exception. Gyeo-ul recalled Lieutenant John Frey, the Ranger platoon commander who had presented him with a Zippo lighter.
However, it was difficult right now. The mission unit was larger than the size of a regiment based on combat forces alone, and the number of civilians had also reached ten thousand. It would be unproductive to walk around the group just to find a face he knew. It wasn’t that desperate.
The mission unit established a temporary base on the ridge overlooking the lake and the city. Helicopters flew in one by one, laid down the materials for the camp, and left.
When they finished preparing for the camp, the sun was already falling. The soldiers were given a break, but it was hard for the officers to relax. Given the unsettled atmosphere, the battalion commander wanted officers to encourage and comfort soldiers during their breaks. This was one of the reasons why an officer’s salary was higher than a soldier’s.
Gyeo-ul was no exception. The Bravo Company soldiers who encountered the boy officer no longer saw him as a boy. Each person expressed his or her dissatisfaction and anxiety to him.
“I don’t know why I’m waiting here. We don’t know when we’re going to attack again, so why don’t we just go ahead and take a break?”
Such a remark wasn’t without merit. The remaining distance to the camp was shorter than the distance they had traveled during the day. However, it was impossible.
Gyeo-ul formed an embarrassed smile. “You have to think about the Camp Obispo people. How hard would it be? What about civilians? We’re barely holding out on stimulants.”
Those who had come through the extreme conditions, regardless of whether they were soldiers or civilians, slumped down here and there as the tension eased. They were exhausted in both body and mind, so the stimulants didn’t help much. There was no other answer than to rest.
“Let’s say that’s true. What are we going to do over there?” The soldier pointed to the southeast sky. The lower part was reddish, like the western sky when the sun set. Despite the long distance, the smell of burning reached all the way to them.
If he hadn’t known better, Gyeo-ul would have been worried. Considering the speed of the fire spreading, it could have grown into a fire that would burn the entire country.
“It’s okay. I’ve been informed that it’s likely to rain before midnight. It’ll be pouring all day tomorrow.”
“Really?”
“Why would I lie? It’s rather strange that you didn’t know yet. Oh, it must be because the delivery system is confusing because of the situation. Spread it to the others.”
“Okay.”
Gyeo-ul must have relieved his anxiety, but the soldier still looked sullen. Having encountered a few more similar people, Gyeo-ul thought it was understandable. He, too, wanted to get to the camp somehow, Camp San Luis Obispo, but Camp Roberts’ Bravo squadron had been through a hard day… No, a second day. Stress caused recoil. It was natural to have the desire to relax in a familiar bed.
Sobbing sounds could now be heard from the civilian campsite. As it was larger than Camp Roberts, Gyeo-ul had heard that the losses were big when it collapsed.
“Private. Do you have a minute?”
The strange soldier reacted exaggeratedly to Gyeo-ul’s question. He seemed to be suffering from slight shell shock. The way he kept rubbing his fingers together was very unsettled. Nevertheless, he was armed. The commanders of Camp Obispo also seemed to have little room.
That, or they couldn’t help it because they had too much.
The soldier began to stutter. “What’s, what’s wrong?”
“No, it’s nothing. I just wanted to talk to someone.”
Considering the situation, it should have been the soldiers wanting to have a conversation with them. For a person like this soldier, though, it would be more effective not to make him feel under scrutiny.
Of course, if the condition were normal, his behavior would have been enough to be noticed. However, soldiers were not normal.
As the soldier approached with a clumsy step, Gyeo-ul guided him by patting on his back.
“Is this seat all right?”
They had stopped at a bonfire, which soldiers from the same battalion were sitting around. They recognized the soldier and welcomed him with various words and actions. Among them were unfamiliar people with accents. It was almost like an army of multiracial nations.
Gyeo-ul had brought them to a seat for two people. He sat down the soldier he had brought first and carefully took his gun. Those who had already settled down had stood their weapons against each other. It looked like an Indian tent frame. Gyeo-ul added his and the shocked soldier’s guns to it.
Despite suffering under fire and smoke all day long, the bonfire’s heat in the cold night was pleasant. Firewood was scattered at Gyeo-ul’s feet, and he picked up a piece and threw it in. He asked the soldiers, “Where did you get the firewood?”
“There’s a cabin nearby. It must have been a hunter’s lodge, but they used a fireplace. Since there’s no owner now anyway, I borrowed it.”
What this soldier had said so casually was actually illegal. As the U.S. government was eager to create an optimistic atmosphere, there was a widespread perception that neglected assets could be recovered someday.
‘I don’t know what’s going to happen today.’
Gyeo-ul wasn’t sure how many sacrifices there’d been during the day. It wasn’t like they were going to ask people who were frustrated. However, the U.S., which had been stable for a while, might just have suffered a disaster for the first time in a long time. The mood would change a lot if that were the case.
The soldier that Gyeo-ul brought was squatting, still rubbing his fingers.
“Hey, Penwood. Drink this.”
A colleague handed over a glass. The sweat was now dripping off him.
After accepting the glass, Penwood, clearly still anxious, asked, “Now, what should we talk about?”
Gyeo-ul smiled calmly. “Do you feel uncomfortable with me?”
“No, it’s not like that.”
“Ignore the rank; just think of it as making a friend. By the way, what do friends talk about in America? I’m not sure because I’m from Korea.”
It wasn’t exactly a joke, but everyone began to laugh out loud. They would have responded the same to anything; they just needed a chance to laugh. Penwood also smiled, albeit with a stiff expression.
A female sergeant named D’Angelo smiled back.
“We don’t like to be friends with officers, but you’re the exception. You saved my life earlier.”
“Hmm?”
When Gyeo-ul heard that, he peered closer at their faces. They had been at the scene, including two soldiers who had suppressed Gilliard during his panic attack. Gyeo-ul eventually nodded.
“Oh, we met. I’m glad you didn’t get hurt.”
“At that time, I was surprised by your judgment. I’m not good at shooting, and my God, I’ve never seen such a rapid weapon replacement. I’ve only seen such a fast hand at a Las Vegas casino. You’re a natural-born gambler.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not interested in card games.”
“I don’t make friends with people who don’t touch cards.”
“Oh my.”
The soldiers burst into soft laughter again. While waiting for it to fade, Gyeo-ul asked the female soldier, “Is Corporal Gilliard safe?”
“He’s on his way back. They said there’s a hundred percent chance he’ll be discharged from the army because of his hands. Since the bones on the back of his hand were shattered and two fingers fell off, it would be hard for him to work as a soldier again.”
Gunfire supplied to the U.S. military in recent years had been of a particular kind. Block power was the opposite of penetration, and when it hit, it gave maximum impact instead of penetration. It was a natural measure when dealing with mutants that were stronger than humans.
Gyeo-ul’s pistol shot was no different. Gilliard might not be able to use his hands at all because they’d been hit with five shots. Even if the treatment went well, the aftereffects would remain for the rest of his life.
Gyeo-ul said, in a slightly subdued voice, “I’m sorry. Tell him I’m sorry when you see him.”
“What? What are you talking about?” D’Angelo frowned as if she had heard something nonsensical. “He should be grateful. You kept him from getting into trouble. You pulled him back. It looks like he’s going to be discharged from the army. Damn it, I’m jealous! It’s a pension opportunity.”
Gyeo-ul knew that, originally, U.S. military pensions were only available after at least fifteen years of service, but wound pensions were of different types. However, he didn’t know the details. No matter how many times you asked, you couldn’t get all the information.
“Does he definitely get a pension?”
“His service period is over thirty months, and he was on the front line… I’m sure he’ll get a Purple Heart, and if he can’t use one hand at all, it’ll be fifty percent disability. Even if he can use it a little bit, it’ll be around thirty or forty percent. For the time being… And there will be problems. Then it’s sure. Hey, how much is forty percent?”
D’Angelo’s evasiveness was her trying to be considerate of the unstable Penwood. Those who had been asked answered in an offhand manner.
“Oh, I don’t know. Five hundred? Six hundred? It isn’t that bad. If he gets a Purple Heart, he’ll get an extra reward. If he has a family, he’ll get more. I don’t know exactly.”
“Does he have any family?”
“I don’t know.”
Gyeo-ul tilted his head.
“It’s about six hundred dollars at least, but will that be enough to get by?”
By intellectual correction, the amount converted to the exchange rate of the early twenty-first century could be calculated. About 700,000 won. “Insight” worked here, too. Through the Control AI’s advice, Gyeo-ul found that the amount was far below the minimum cost of living at that time.
However, the soldier flatly denied the allegations.
“Hey, you also earn money from your job.”
“Is it easy to get a job?”
“That’s, it’s… the government will probably help.”
Gyeo-ul felt a little surprised by the optimistic remarks. The soldier’s use of the term “government” seemed to be much different from the concepts that Gyeo-ul had experienced in his lifetime. All in all, it felt very strange.
In fact, the benefits provided by the Federal Veterans Affairs (VA) were not just pension payments. The soldiers’ statements confirmed that they received continuous management and courtesy. They were even guaranteed a loan.
However, many U.S. soldiers became homeless after being discharged. Gyeo-ul sighed inwardly after receiving intelligence correction information.
‘Which means this is a problem that you can’t stop completely.’
It was important to give soldiers faith, somehow. They had to believe that, even if things were to go wrong, the country would reward them. This might have been one reason the United States had remained a bastion of civilization until the end of every episode that Gyeo-ul had experienced. It was an intangible system that supported the combat capabilities of the U.S. military.
‘How many countries are there that are doing fine now…?’
No place came to mind right away except Russia. And that country was a wide and rough land which had now become a natural barrier, which helped quarantine.
Gyeo-ul’s idea did not last all that long.
Once the discharge story came out, the conversation heated up. No matter which country you went to, discharge was a hot topic for soldiers on the battlefield. Did it feel like retirement for a career soldier?
Penwood, who still couldn’t control his hands, acted just the same.
After a few minutes of conversation, he suddenly began to sob.
“Hooo, hoo, hoo.”
He wiped his tears with trembling hands. The laughter of the other soldiers died down. Some people cried with him, while the others tried to cheer them up by patting their shoulders. Gyeo-ul went with the latter.
“Cry. I heard that holding back your tears can make you sick.”
Penwood had his head stuck in Gyeo-ul’s chest, and he cried for a long time.
“Really, thank you for your effort.”
One word that D’Angelo gave Gyeo-ul was quite deep.
After Private Penwood calmed down, Gyeo-ul left the campfire. The superior unit had found Gyeo-ul by radio, and he was required to attend his first meeting with the first battalion captain of Seventh California.
The Latin battalion commander was waiting alone for Gyeo-ul without any other staff. He had on a solid expression, but somehow it looked like it might slip. It was a trace of the harsh time they had endured since dawn. What he felt as a commander would be different from a soldier.
Gyeo-ul saluted. “Lieutenant Han Gyeo-ul. I heard you paged me.”
“Lieutenant Colonel Parell Ramos. Nice to meet you. Sit down there.”
The battalion commander, sitting across from the boy officer, started formally by praising Gyeo-ul first.
“You fought well during the day.”
“Did you see it yourself?”
“Somehow.”
There was silence for a while. The lieutenant colonel, who was staring at Gyeo-ul, jutted out his chin.
“How is it going outside?”
“It’s not good, but it seems to be stabilizing all the same.”
“You’re different from the other officers…”
What was he trying to say? Did he mean that, because of his performance, Gyeo-ul made the soldiers feel safer than other officers? No, this was a different tone. There was a meaning that Gyeo-ul couldn’t catch. After all, he had yet to guess why the battalion commander had called him in the first place. The battalion commander noticed this.
“Are you wondering why I called you?”
“Honestly, yes.”
“It’s nothing. I wanted to meet you. Thanks to you, I’m over the crisis, so I think I should say thank you.”
As he said this, an indescribable look of fatigue and remorse was revealed in the commander’s eyes. It was momentary, but Gyeo-ul didn’t miss it. It looked very heavy.
The battalion commander then said something else. “We’ll be stationed in the same camp in the future.”
“Are you saying that my affiliation will be changed?”
“No, it’s our side that will be changing stations.”
“Is that so?”
“Well, even though San Luis Obispo’s camp is close to the city, the regiment was deployed because it was on the way to the south. On the other hand, it’s also on the way to the sea. If we secure the Gulf of Moro, we’ll have a simple base in the Pacific. But now that it’s done, they’re going to try to strengthen Camp Roberts.”
It was a logical statement, but there was no reason to tell Gyeo-ul. They had never met before, and he belonged to a different group.
Ah. Gyeo-ul realized something. ‘Different from other officers…’
Did that mean Gyeo-ul could offer something that the battalion commander couldn’t afford to do with the other officers, such as sitting down for an aimless conversation?
Sometimes, having a person beside you could offer comfort. However, the commander could not be seen as a weak person. Therefore, he had to keep a hard and formal atmosphere around him. It would be pretty hard to release his tension with no one to speak to.
Without saying anything, Gyeo-ul kept still and comforted the battalion commander just by being there beside him.
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