| A Soldier's Life in Times of War (Part I)

Choi's little assault had been too close for comfort, Soo-Ah resolved. It was sheer luck and a quick reaction that she was not discovered. And with Duri gone her main link to the group of soldiers she'd seen more often was broken. The fact that they viewed her as culpable for his death did not help either. Soon the days where she kept to herself and her newfound duties began to resemble one another. She only remained faithful to the patients of the field hospital, which she frequented more often, taking an interest in all the miracles the doctors were performing.

After fighting the queasiness, the first couple of shifts, she was happy to note that blood and gaping wounds no longer made her feel squeamish. And through her perseverance, she had learned a thing or two about treating the wounded by watching the regimental doctors and surgeons. The medics allowed her to return each time and began to share some of their knowledge with a boy who was polite, smart and eager to learn. Soo-Ah took to their teachings like a swan taking to water for the first time.

One thing kept vexing her: the soldiers around kept gossiping about how she was favored, and the gossip reached her ears. Her conscience did her no favors either. It was true her grandfather had kept her away from battles although a simple soldier, her age would have already seen plenty.

Surges of messed-up feelings gradually turned her irascibility and she always found herself in a foul mood.

Her defying attitude might pose a problem, especially for someone who was meant to serve the general and she knew it. There was nothing she could do to prevent waking up irritated and grumpy. It just happened. She was in no mood for talking much and was grunting at most of the things her grandfather told her. Or she rolled her eyes whenever Min-Jun made her do the same thing twice because he was not happy with her work. A tinge of bitterness still lingered around him, especially when she remembered Duri.

"I can see your blood began to boil hot under that young hind of yours, child" Min-Jun commented when Soo-Ah jerked his maps around.

She only huffed, deciding to hold her tongue at his grandfather's disapproving look at her work. Then she proceeded to clean out the plates and the cups from the working dinner General Min-Jun had with his commanders. The clutter of the dishes and the cutlery slammed one on top of the other must have been heard even outside the tent.

"Perhaps you should have a spar session, to loosen up your nerves," Min-Jun suggested in a fatherly tone.

Soo-Ah snapped at him, "And who am I gonna' spar with? That hay dummy is not much of a partner," and she let the plates fall on the special tray used for washing then stomped to her tent room.

"You have been acting like this for some time," Min-Jun said after her. "You are young and I could understand your attitude but there is more, isn't there?" He stood in the entryway and watched her in a reconciling manner.

Soo-Ah found something to tidy among her things also. "It's just that – It's nothing." She let her shoulders fall as defeated and continued to fiddle with the freshly washed linens, delaying placing them in their designated spot.

"Nothing doesn't slam my maps and my dishes. And nothing sure does not huff at me every time I request something." He came to take the linens out of her hand. "I understand being my aid—"

"Take me with you. In the next battle, take me with you!"

Min-Jun sighed and placed the linens and his old derriere on her cot.

Soo-Ah continued, "I can't stand their looks, their comments that I am a clay soldier, only here for the numbers. It's not fair to have them always judge me." She kept to herself her grudge for being deemed less by those she called demons with human faces. It occurred to her she never divulged to her grandfather the despise she had for the men around her.

Min-Jun grabbed her hand and looked up into her eyes. "But you are not meant to be a soldier, my child. You are only pretending."

"Oh, so now I am not a soldier. I don't know what I am anymore." Soo-Ah felt her eyes water.

"This is all my fault. When I decided to take you with me —" he paused in a coughing fit. Soo-Ah jumped to offer him some water. He took the cup and searched for something in her eye.

She looked at him with a tinge of grudge. It was his fault. It was everybody's fault she was having a hard time.

"I knew it might be difficult, but I never thought all of this would continue for as long as it did." He looked troubled and guilty. "How can I put your life in danger by taking you with me to fight? Hm? Tell me. Keeping you away is all the good I can do for you to be safe."

"You are not keeping me safe when you are making me the talk of the entire camp. It was not an issue before, but now I am of age to fight. Besides, I want to know. I need to see for my own eyes what we are doing here and what it means to fight."

"Once you know something, you can't unknow it. If I agree to take you to battle, you will be only a spectator and will not engage anyone. You can not go against my orders. Are we clear?"

Soo-Ah's eyes sparkled. She could see her grandfather was not at peace with this decision so she made sure to promise him anything he wanted to hear. In the following days, her temper was suddenly tamed and her sword was sharpened for what was to come.

*

Tension on the battlefields arose with every day that passed. An imminent battle was on the way. The enemy had laid low for too long and was coming out of their hiding with reinforcements. But this was why General Min-Jun had placed his field camp here, waiting. A day was set to march out and greet the foes with sharpened spears and blades.

It was later at night than early in the morning, when soldiers in Min-Jun's camp were preparing to head out. Soo-Ah strapped her armor, then looked at herself in the handheld mirror, proud. She could count on her fingers the times she had tried out this metal shell. The breastplates were a little tight, a sign she was in need of new ones. The helmet fit on her head like a piece of a jigsaw puzzle. Taking her gloves and her sword she came to help her grandfather step into his armor as she usually did.

Time was ticking. She watched Min-Jun and his commanders hovering over the map under the dim dangling lanterns as they were going on the last run-through of the strategy they had in place. The general was calm and collected as he had always been. Despite his old age, his hands moved steadily over the landmarks marked on the maps.

"The three divisions from the second legion will wait here, here and here. We'll make a fork in case they push through the front-line divisions. If we do not squash their momentum today you all know what will happen."

The youngest of his commanders rubbed his beard. "Gyeongju town," and he placed his thumb on the map.

"If we allow them to take and hold Gyeongju town they will have control of the river," another commander, leaning over, traced with his eyes the river and the symbols leading further south.

"They take control of the river, they'll have control of the crossing and a straight path to take the cities further south," Min-Jun showed the trail the armies would take. "If we lose today, we might have just lost the war."

"Let us not speak ahead of ourselves, General Kim. We might be the only ones here, keeping the north border but we still have the legions deployed in the west," the youngest commander spoke out of decorum.

"So with the enemies in front of them, you would place enemies behind as well?" Min-Jun asked. "The Tang troops shall not pass through here."

His commanders straightened their pose and offered a brief military salute. Then they waited for a sign from the scouts, saying no more words. The fresh air of the night was brought in through the opened canvas. An unnatural silence ruled the camp for now.

Horseshoes resounded in the night, then someone climbed down from his saddle. The dispatch rider brought the news: they must head out.

Soo-Ah righted herself from where she was slouched and looked her grandfather straight in the eyes. He stopped before her and pulled at her armour plates to make sure they were secure enough.

"Armour stays always on. I got it." Soo-Ah said and smiled at him as he patted her cheek.

Then she followed Min-Jun to his horse like she used to except this time she also mounted hers. As she followed the general to take his place in front of his legions she passed by a forest of spears. Some of the faces she knew and cared for must have been in there, somewhere, obscured. She sent them her blessing. For the rest all she had was scorn. They should watch her now. Did she look like a soldier?

Before heading out, four horsemen came to flank her left and right. A commander, a lieutenant and two mounted cavaliers, one of whom was a friendship turned bitter with Duri's passing: Kyu. All were to be her retinue, in the unlucky case, may the gods forbid, she would need it.

They marched along the pine trees as the sun emerged on their right. In its ascent, it shined briefly until it got lost behind the coverlet of clouds. The magpie thrills accompanied the sounds of their boots, stepping over the pine needles and the dead foliage on the ground. The air was crisp and new, carrying flavors of the trees' sap. It smelled of life and hope that they would pass through here again, all safe and sound.

But just like a foul smell can quickly envelop another, so could reality drown down their hopes.

"Are you scared, soldier?" Min-Jun's second commander, with his dark, thick eyebrows with stray white whiskers springing from them, asked her as they marched to face the enemy.

"No," Soo-Ah answered, faster than she could think.

"You better be. It's going to keep you alive," the old commander replied and offered a cautionary nod. Then he kicked his horse to move faster so he could have a word with the General.

The constant image of the tamed hills in front of them became blurred. It did not take long for the silhouettes of people to emerge through the early morning haze. Villagers and townspeople, about 100 in number, were heading their way, carrying bundles on their backs and pulling along an animal or a child. But the heaviest burden they carried was in their eyes, hopelessness and resignation. As they passed the lines of soldiers going to war, some silently acknowledged each other, others kept their eyes on the ground. At the end of the convoy a little boy, no older than three, was crying with his fingers in his mouth. An old man, further in the line, shouted his name and came to pick him up, displaying the only positive emotion: relief he did not lose his grandson.

Soo-Ah kept staring at them until the second commander came near her. "The battleground lies near the domain of Lord Gyeongju. That traitor defected to those scums. I should put my hands on him and snap his neck, leaving his domain and serfs when they would not follow him in his treachery. Now people have to flee from their homes because of victory will not be in the cards for us today, those dogs will come to pillage and rape and put people in chains."

"Why would they attack a simple town? There are only women and old folk. They have nothing of value nor pose a threat," Soo-Ah inquired, praying to the gods it was not true.

"To maim the body and the spirit of innocents, together with mindless destruction are weapons of war, young lad. It's not for the threat, it is to make a statement. A loud, violent, heart-wrenching statement," the commander replied, seemingly unbothered.

"What about us? Does our army plunder and rape?"

From the protection of his embellished helmet, the commander looked at her and stretched his thin, chapped lips into a grin and huffed, adding no more words. He kicked his horse to reach the general further down the line, leaving Soo-Ah disgusted to call herself a soldier.

She did not ask more, but she would ask her grandfather. Her grandfather would never allow his army to commit such horrors, even to those who did not share his allegiance. Though she did hear some of the soldiers boasting around the camp of having gotten their hands on some precious items or fair maidens. She always thought them to be inventions.