Chapter 32. Opening (3)
July 1916.
Washington, D.C.
Newton D. Baker, the youngest cabinet member and Secretary of War, had no choice but to report to President Woodrow Wilson.
Despite his position, Secretary Baker was a complete novice when it came to military affairs—he knew less than a speck about them. But what could be done? The era demanded war.
Seated beside Secretary Baker was Attorney General Thomas Gregory, and next to him sat a row of military personnel.
"Alright, that's enough on that matter. Let's move to the next item."
As if shaking off the heavy atmosphere, Wilson briskly flipped the paper in his hand.
"Understood. With the cooperation of the California state government, the Bureau of Investigation conducted a search and seizure on a small publishing house."
"Were there any legal issues?"
"The publisher was found to have been secretly distributing seditious leftist books underground. It was a fortunate coincidence that we uncovered it, but there should be no legal problems."
Wilson nodded and gestured for him to continue, so the Attorney General pressed on with his report.
"Our investigation into those connected to the publication of the book in question, The War That Will End All Wars, revealed that the author was a Korean-American named Eugene Kim, residing in San Francisco. We immediately launched an inquiry. Eugene Kim stated that he had merely received the manuscript and passed it on, claiming his older brother was the true author."
"This 'older brother'?"
"I'll take it from here."
Colonel Daniel H. Biddle, superintendent of West Point who had been urgently summoned to Washington, spoke up.
His aide from the back handed out new documents to the President and everyone in the room, allowing all to review the personal record of an Asian man.
PERSONAL RECORD: Eugene Kim
Enrolled at West Point in June 1911; currently serving as a Second Lieutenant.
First Asian-American cadet in West Point history; received significant attention.
Recently promoted to Second Lieutenant for killing a key lieutenant of Pancho Villa during the Mexican Expedition.
Academic performance: Average, not in the top ranks.
Associations: Linked to Syngman Rhee; married to daughter of Senator Charles Curtis (Republican).
Pen name "Dwight Van Bradley" derived from close West Point friends.
"Eugene Kim. Enrolled at West Point in June 1911 and is currently serving as a second lieutenant. He's the first Asian-American cadet in West Point history and drew considerable attention for it."
"Already a second lieutenant?"
"Lieutenant Kim participated in the Mexican Expedition until recently and was promoted for killing one of Pancho Villa's top lieutenants."
"His grades... average. Not particularly in the top tier?"
Wilson tilted his head, then his eyes lit up as he spotted something unusual in the record.
"Connected to Syngman Rhee, eh? That explains it. And married to Senator Curtis's daughter. Full of promise. Though I don't love that he's tied to the Republicans."
"The pen name he used, 'Dwight Van Bradley,' was pieced together from the names of his close friends from cadet days. There's no doubt he's the real author."
Colonel Biddle paused to catch his breath, then cautiously broached the topic he dreaded mentioning.
"And the report he wrote during his time as a cadet is the one submitted here: Predictions on the Nature of Future Warfare and Proposals for Preparation Accordingly."
The room fell silent.
Wilson quietly skimmed the copy of the report before him, and despite having read it multiple times already, everyone in the room began poring over it again, heads throbbing.
"I know nothing about war or military matters. I get a sense that it's something utterly horrific, but I can't grasp exactly what this report means militarily. Could someone explain?"
Army Chief of Staff Hugh L. Scott, stroking his white mustache, spoke up.
"To put it bluntly, the future war this report envisions is a massive... slaughterhouse, where millions of troops die pointlessly in trenches, yet reinforcements pour in endlessly just to avoid being pushed back."
"Does that even make sense? At that scale, wouldn't political and diplomatic compromises come into play?"
"It's happening right now across the Atlantic, Mr. President."
The President's words caught in his throat.
"Madness. They've all lost their minds. If Europe's situation is that dire, the United States has a moral duty to mediate. Let's summon the ambassadors again and tell them to end this insane war."
"That may be difficult."
The Secretary of State shook his head with a grim expression.
"Your point is obvious to all the European leaders. But after spilling oceans of blood, if it ends in just a ceasefire or status quo, communist revolutions will erupt immediately. No one wants peace at this stage."
"Insane. What a mad era. How can white men, holders of Christian ethics and scientific civilization, commit such lunacy?"
Sighing, he turned back to the report.
"So, the significance of this report is that it prophesies this grim future?"
"No, Mr. President. This report proposes various measures and concepts to break out of that 'slaughterhouse' state. And many of those concepts are lessons the Europeans have learned only after spilling rivers of blood."
"You're saying the hard-won wisdom from the blood of millions of Europeans is fully captured in a report scribbled by a single West Point student?"
"Perhaps it saw even further ahead, even earlier."
"Hah."
The only sound in the room was the rustling of papers once more.
"Some companies have taken interest in this report. Ford moved fastest, contacting Lieutenant Kim and starting development on the 'armed tractor' mentioned."
"Ford is currently sponsoring Lieutenant Kim in various ways. Details are in the report submitted."
"Until the Mexican Expedition, Lieutenant Kim was fully dedicated to developing that armed tractor. The weapon, a joint effort between him and Ford, is being tested in Europe. I've heard the Europeans' evaluations are quite positive."
Having listened through the reports, Wilson asked curiously.
"But... does this really need to come all the way to me? Couldn't the War Department or the Army analyze it internally?"
"There was a proposal to send this report to the Europeans immediately, so we brought it to you."
"We can't do that."
Wilson answered instantly.
"We're a neutral nation. No matter that it's just one cadet's work, we can't aid one side first. We won't interfere in Europe's war and will always pray for their peace."
"Understood, Mr. President."
"Let me emphasize again: there will be no war. My re-election slogan will be anti-war and neutrality. If you want war, go join those damn Republicans. I won't stop you. But if you want to stay in my cabinet, review all matters with maximum neutrality."
The atmosphere turned icy.
The military men fidgeted, but no foolhardy soul dared broach war preparations before the displeased President, stars or no.
"Next item."
The meeting continued.
After the meeting, the generals and Secretary Baker immediately convened a smaller session to implement the President's directives.
"That damned report."
The Secretary suddenly remarked.
"Why was something like that buried for so long and only dug up now?"
"The previous superintendent, Major General Townsley, undervalued it."
"Is he insane?"
Seeing the Secretary's scowl, Chief of Staff Scott quickly defended him.
"But he was the one who brought the report's existence to light. Any superintendent back then would have thought the same. I served as West Point superintendent myself, and even I wouldn't have taken that... horrific prophecy as gospel."
The Secretary had no choice but to accept it. Just as no one in Troy heeded Cassandra, it was inevitable. If anything, mentioning it now was a blessing.
"So, what do we do with that young man? He's sharp—should we send him to Europe?"
"Sending an Asian would just get him ignored and dismissed. No need. We should keep him tied to the War Department as much as possible."
He stated firmly.
"We have plenty of bold field officers. But a junior officer with this level of foresight, plus standout results in ongoing training missions? Rare. General Bell also praised his future highly and stressed we mustn't waste him meaninglessly in the field."
"I see. Any need to send his report to the Navy—"
"No."
"Figured as much. Why would those Navy snobs listen to the Army, let alone some Asian lieutenant's scribbles?"
Seeing Scott's serious reaction to his casual question, he reconsidered.
"In any case, the President's stance is no intervention. Let's redouble efforts to expand the reserves and prepare for contingencies."
"New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, Oklahoma... You candidates from across the nation graduate from maggot status today!"
My booming voice brought broad smiles to the candidates' faces.
"Well done! In this short month, you've learned a lot. Now go home and don't forget what you've learned until the nation calls you!"
"Lieutenant Kim, thank you for all your hard work!"
"If you know I suffered, good! Now scram! Get the hell home and never show your faces in front of me again!!"
Finally, farewell to these damn candidates.
These 30 days had been pure agony. Lucky it was a civilian-military joint program. Every time I drafted the curriculum, I'd get shot down with "No budget" or "Too expensive," stacking up my patience meter one rejection at a time.
The guys who'd endured my 30 days of fiery scolding and tough love gazed at me with sparkling eyes. Was this the famous Stockholm syndrome, or did Americans have masochism in their genes?
With rear-echelon duties mostly wrapped up, all that remained was my transfer request.
After busting my ass to rack up merits like this, no way they'd keep me from the front. I'd been diligently rattling my medals to General Bell in our occasional meetings—good results were coming.
A few more training missions, and it'd be 1917. America's entry into the war wasn't far off.
At the passage of the National Defense Act, almost no one envisioned early U.S. intervention.
The act's "10,000 officers, 200,000 troops" was nowhere near enough to join Europe's million-man bloodbaths.
No matter how the war hawks howled, most Americans still backed anti-war neutrality. German-Americans fought desperately, and churches mostly saw war as sin.
But America would join.
A future only I could be certain of.
In just a year, the world would change dramatically, and the giant—unaware of its own colossal size—would finally awaken.
And the seeds I'd sown would elevate me to the ranks of prophets. The Republicans would love that.
Europe was calling me.
A future without combat for me? As if.