00069 --- The Little Prince in the Ossuary----=
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#Intermission, Fighting Spirit and Combat Fatigue (2)
In 「After the Apocalypse」, combat fatigue is a device for expressing psychological trauma. Therefore, it can manifest routinely, especially if people's daily lives are akin to constant battles.
Thus, managing combat fatigue is a crucial element in the operation of a community. For more efficient operation, leaders need to suppress or at times instigate combat fatigue among their constituents.
Yes, you read it right. Intentionally inducing combat fatigue is one of the critical know-hows in community management and human resource management.
Shall we take an example? People's trauma can easily lead to political inclinations. They never want to experience that trauma again. If it seems even slightly possible that the pain they endured might recur, they show instinctive aversion. It's a survival instinct. Therefore, there is little room for rational judgment here.
In reality, the political conservatism of war veterans is the best example. Because they have undergone horrific experiences, they consider personal survival and the maintenance of their community as supreme values.
This can also be a means of creating fervent supporters.
Of course, this is optional. If you're truly an exceptional leader, you can garner support without intentionally using such means. This is also the right path to take.
On the other hand, combat fatigue can also become a moment of growth. Indeed, that's how it is. Nietzsche once said in "Twilight of the Idols",
"What does not kill me makes me stronger."
Surely, you've heard stories of people growing stronger after overcoming psychological wounds at least once.
In 「After the Apocalypse」, this is manifested as an expansion of potential abilities, separate from growth through accumulated experience. It's entirely distinct from strengthening through skill acquisition.
Naturally, it's not easy. A person must be left with only the extent of psychological trauma they can withstand, and everyone's limits are different. The key is how well you can "perceive" that limit. Without your 'insight', it would be impossible.
In some cases, it may even be impossible altogether. The operation mechanism and efficiency of 'insight', a core of leadership, vary completely depending on your qualities and inclinations.
#Journal, page 91, Camp Roberts
Three days had passed since returning to the camp.
During that time, the stationed forces increased, and the camp commander was replaced. As Camp Roberts' level rose, so too did the rank required of the commander. Now the commander was concurrently the regiment commander of 「Seventh California」.
The existing commander, the battalion commander of the 3rd Battalion, had been disciplined. Attempts to shift blame entirely to the operations officer had failed. The incident was so significant that the Blockade Command sent a full-scale investigation team. Many testified about the battalion commander's dereliction. On Christmas Eve, he had drunkenly passed out—unacceptable behavior during an emergency state.
The issue was the new commander. Though Fort Hunter Ligett had successfully thwarted a night raid, it wasn't on par with Camp Roberts, and there were many casualties. Even the regiment commander of 「Seventh California」 was among the fatalities. He had been stationed at Hunter Ligett with the 2nd Battalion.
It was a stroke of bad luck. Out to encourage soldiers on guard on Christmas Eve, he had ventured out for a night patrol, only to be killed as the attack commenced. Too much sincerity can be a problem.
As a result, the camp commander's post had been vacant for the past few days. The period it took for the new regiment commander to assume the position was three days. During this time, Lieutenant Colonel Pharel Ramos of the 1st Battalion served as the acting commander.
Then today, the regiment commander arrived.
There was no inauguration ceremony. Most forces were engaged in fortifying the defenses, and the regiment commander himself did not wish to waste time on unnecessary events.
However, I received a personal summons.
"Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant. As of today, I've assumed responsibility for Camp Roberts. I'm Gerald M. Laughlin, commander of the 160th Regiment... Oh, now Colonel Laughlin. I apologize. I'm not yet accustomed to my new rank."
The dark-skinned regiment commander easily covered his slip.
The mistake was due to the promotion by position. It's a system where, regardless of one's original rank, the rank necessary for duty is temporarily assigned.
Typically, a U. S. Army regiment is commanded by a lieutenant colonel. But since he was also handling camp command, overseeing other support units apart from the regiment and coordinating refugee support forces, he was made a colonel.
The recently demoted battalion commander of the 3rd Battalion was the same. He became a lieutenant colonel due to his role as camp commander, but his original rank was a major. His salary would have likely been paid according to his major rank.
But there was another error on his part. At ease, I pointed it out.
"Excuse me, Sir, but my rank is second lieutenant."
He quietly laughed.
"No, you too need to adapt to a new rank. Come closer."
As I approached, he removed my rank insignia and replaced it with a new one.
"Are you surprised?"
I honestly affirmed. This prompted Colonel Laughlin to pat my shoulder.
"There's no need to be surprised. Your promotion was anticipated. We just expedited it. Despite that, it's true it overturns the standard promotion timelines...but considering your achievements, this is just a token gesture. Real rewards await you."
His words led me to a suspicion. Another decoration was likely forthcoming. I've been with the U. S. military for less than half a year, and this would already be the fourth time.
Initially, I received the Distinguished Service Medal and the Medal of Honor, followed by the Silver Star, and a Commendation Medal upon returning from Atascadero.
From the colonel's expression, the 'real reward' seemed to be of a significant caliber.
Could it be the Medal of Valor?
Pierce's story resonated with me. Despite initial achievements warranting a Medal of Valor, he believed lower-tier medals were awarded to foster mutual checks among refugees.
"You'll be visiting Washington. I hear Congress has unanimously agreed on your merits. You'll depart on a flight tonight and return by tomorrow afternoon."
The regiment thus confirmed my suspicion. A medal requiring Congress's approval and necessitating a trip to Washington could hardly be anything else. He extended his hand to me.
"It's an honor to meet a true hero, regardless of rank."
His handshake carried an earnest strength. It was from his genuinely serious gaze that I felt my elevated status truly sink in.
This incident was the catalyst.
The planned infiltration by mutants was shocking, and an EMP attack was an event beyond imagination. I heard that over 80,000 civilians were dead. Several garrisons vanished from maps, and even those that successfully defended faced considerable damage.
Camp Roberts was the only intact place.
One bad news often covers another.
I was prepared to become the Army's recruiting poster-boy, but as things escalate, the burden begins to weigh heavily on me.
It feels like people no longer see me as the same person. A hero is ultimately just a tool created based on necessity.
Thus, my response was calm.
"Without the help of others, I wouldn't have managed. While I'm grateful for the words, I believe it's a shared honor."
"Indeed. The investigation team sent by the command didn't just look into the faults. Several others beyond you were selected for special promotion. Captain Capston is a prime example, and medals will be awarded. So there's no need to feel too burdened."
Upon further inquiry, it became clear that most of Charlie Company were candidates for promotion or distinguished service recognition.
Captain Capston received a two-rank promotion; normal for a lieutenant colonel and a positional promotion for a major. Thus, he took over as the battalion commander whose post became vacant.
Throughout the interview, the regiment commander remained amicable.
#Journal, page 92, washington D. C.
I'm writing this journal after returning from Washington.
The accommodation was at the White House. Though it's hard to call it accommodation given the brief stay, there's no apt alternative.
The entire time there, I was under strict surveillance. Everyone seemed overly concerned about the possibility of my escape. They called it security, but having a platoon visibly assigned seemed excessive.
Though it's not an unreasonable concern. Refugees dream of life in a civilized world east of the blockade. From their standpoint, there was no guarantee I wouldn't do the same. If I escaped, recapture would be implausible, and it would cause significant societal repercussions.
Whether or not by choice, I was a war hero, after all.
Not once did I consider escaping. I have people to be accountable for.
Yet, the view from the window was truly beautiful. Outside the fence, a snow-white garden continually nourished by a fountain, beyond which stood the elegant silhouette of the Washington Monument. If not for the crowd gathered to see me, it would have been even nicer.
The absence of worry about a mutant assault brought a truly exceptional peace of mind.
The longing to take a stroll was immense.
On a whim, I requested as much.
Naturally, it was denied. The atmosphere tightened. I regretted voicing it.
So I said, if they're really concerned, they could put me in cuffs, which made everyone quite flustered.
It was a jest meant to lighten the mood.
The awarding ceremony was so straightforward it required no rehearsals. The process took about twenty minutes. After entering with the president amidst applause, my sole task was to stand there silently.
The rest was handled by the officers in charge, the Chief of Chaplains, and the president.
"Let us pray."
At the Chief of Chaplains' words, everyone bowed their heads. Though not a believer, I joined in by clasping my hands in front of me and closing my eyes.
"Almighty and eternal Lord, who permits us to have this magnificent land and a legacy of sincere faith. We ask You to be present in this assembly honoring the person who answered the call of duty to protect everything given by You."
"Under Your providence, Lieutenant Han Gyeo-ul saved countless lives from death with courage, honor, and dedication."
"By Your grace, we trust this person will continue to uphold the same virtues. May You honor this hero who has refreshed the tapestry of this great nation in Your name. Also, as we pray again, may we Americans carry forth the courage and sacrifice of this individual daily, enabling the immortality of America's history."
"Thank you for weaving through providence all encounters and events, so this person stands before us by Your blessing today. We also extend gratitude, unified with Army, navy, air Force, marine Corps, and Coast Guard Rangers, who are battling through times of hardship and adversity..."
"... Lastly, may Lieutenant Han Gyeo-ul, the people he seeks to protect, and the nation he serves be Your delight. President Calvin Coolidge once said, 'A nation that forgets its defenders will itself be forgotten.' We pledge before You and Your holy name that we will bestow all honor to this individual safeguarding our shared security and strive never to forget him. Amen."
The U. S. is not a religious state, but in tradition, it's close. It was challenging for me to resonate with its distinctive sentiment.
Following this, the president recounted my achievements.
That took even longer than the prayer. The president attempted to summarize not only the current incident but all the achievements I've amassed.
The reason likely lay amidst the numerous cameras present during the ceremony.
A thought occurred to me. By rising to unexpected fame, perhaps my previous awards came into question?
Objectively speaking, I should have already received the Medal of Honor after Paso Robles. Pierce wasn't the only one suspicious about this.
Regardless, dignitaries gathered in the hall responded to the president's every word with fervent applause. In my perception, their enthusiasm didn't seem entirely fake.
In front of a frame with a blue backdrop and thirteen white stars, the president finally pinned the medal on me. The highest honor achievable as an American. A star adorned with a green laurel wreath. The center was embossed with Athena, the Goddess of wisdom and war, and my name was engraved on the back.
「THE CONGRESS TO GYEO-UL HAN」
Receiving this alive is exceptionally rare. As it tends to be awarded posthumously, some even call it an ornament for the deceased soldiers.
After the ceremony, I attended a dinner with the president. When I requested improved treatment for the refugees, he replied it would be positively reviewed. It was difficult to discern whether it was mere political rhetoric or genuine consideration.
Thus ended a half-day visit to Washington.
As I boarded the return flight, the memories of that half-day felt utterly devoid of reality. It felt like having dreamt an extravagant, bustling dream.
So I returned to reality. My reality, and to those with whom I empathize.
---------------------------= Epilogue ---------------------------=
1. The publication contract is not yet finalized. I'll inform you once it's sealed.
2.
Q. 清流莲님: Wondering if you would ever set up a donation account? I'd at least cover your chicken expenses. Your work fills my day with innocence again. Tekeli-li! Will the ghouls eventually form a battalion and establish their political structure like the vampire battalion from Hellsing?
A. I will consider a donation account once I've become more proficient. I feel I'm lacking right now. :)
As for Hellsing...wouldn't that be too fantastical? I aim for solid realism in my narratives.
Q. 마스터칼솔롬님: Do I need ten legs or ten properties? Ah, the plight of the impoverished!
A. Agreed. If the latter were true, I wouldn't need to write at all. Haha.
Q. 휘네아님: When I first saw this on the Noble series, I was unsure because of the title. But seeing it next to Silv's latest chapter...hah! Spreading it to other sites was a thrill. Should I feel blessed to have discovered this at just 90 updates, or despair?
A. I've always thought the title was good, but I'm disappointed to hear otherwise. If we proceed with publishing, there's a high chance of a title change.
Q. twking5008님: The story mentioned gaining more experience through relationship development than mutant hunting. Can you elaborate on the criteria for experience gain? For example, reporting "mutants using weapons" to higher commands first, impacting the entire U. S. forces.
A. The overseer AI is the evaluator, factoring every interaction between Gyeo-ul and the virtual world, making it difficult to pinpoint conditions.
Q. 도화원님: Does every virtual world have a special touch for Gyeo-ul? It was a chilling chapter. Gyeo-ul's demeanor showcases his attitude toward virtual reality. Could this relate to his high synchronization? Doesn't such synchronization from numerous deaths hint at mental collapse?
A. It's somewhat related. Engaging with virtual characters shows a form of empathy after all.
Q. Ca모님: Are mutants hive-minded? Will higher intelligence allow them societal interactions? You only sleep two hours...isn't mental exhaustion a concern? Take care while writing!
A. Thank you for your consistent reading. Exhaustion hits, indeed. Haha. I have reserve military training soon...
Q. 유렁솨귤님: Human dignity is a purely human role...a strong narrative. I hope you publish it so I can see its conclusion. I'll definitely buy it when released, especially given the hints of the publisher. I'm planning on extending just for your story on Noble. Love you, author. You know I do, right? Pardon me? I'm sure you do. You're an impressive being with ten legs!
A. Having many legs isn't always an advantage. They quarrel among themselves constantly. Next chapter is mine! Scuffle!
Q. 팡링잉X우츠호님: Will it be an E-book or a printed book? Please no E-books—they're hard for me. This writing's quality comes from having ten legs and...ten arms, perhaps?
A. It's undecided yet. Despite many legs, alas, there are no arms...