The Song of the Forgotten

"Hey, you! Soldier! What do you think you're doing? Get back in formation, now!"

A female officer, who had been strolling around with a takeout coffee she had somehow bought in the middle of this chaos, snaps at Sergeant Park Hyun-woo.

Fucking bitch. She doesn't even call me by my name, just 'soldier'...?

"Ah, yes, ma'am. My apologies. I'll head back as soon as I finish this cigarette." Sergeant Park Hyun-woo was thoroughly annoyed, but he forced himself to brush it off half-heartedly.

"Are you disobeying a direct order right now? Get your ass over here this instant!" But the female officer snaps back, her face twisting into that familiar, haughty facial expression.

"...Understood, ma'am." Sergeant Park Hyun-woo and Corporal Kim Chung-ho reluctantly toss their cigarette butts into a corner and walk over to her.

"I said double-time it!" She tries to shout with authority, putting force into her voice, but as expected of a female officer who had done nothing but bounce between cushy rear-line posts, her voice lacks any real power—sounding like a mosquito buzzing weakly.

Sergeant Park Hyun-woo and Corporal Kim Chung-ho trudge toward her, sneering inwardly and feeling a deep sense of disgust.

"..."

"Aren't you going to salute?" she snaps again.

"My apologies, ma'am. Loyalty." Sergeant Park Hyun-woo salutes. Yet, the female officer's expression remains thoroughly displeased.

"Hey, soldier."

"Yes, Corporal Kim Chung-ho."

"Why aren't you saluting?"

"..."

Chung-ho sneered inwardly. This bitch is a soldier and she doesn't even know the basic rule that you only salute the highest-ranking officer present? She was, without a doubt, an absolute idiot.

"..." Sergeant Park Hyun-woo had heard of countless absurdities committed by female officers throughout his service, but he was genuinely impressed by how they managed to write a new horror story every single time. Is there actually no limit to how stupid these bitches can be...?

But what could they do? Rank was absolute. Corporal Kim Chung-ho forced his face into a neutral mask and saluted. "Loyalty!" But the female officer's face didn't soften.

Only then did Sergeant Park Hyun-woo and Corporal Kim Chung-ho realize what she was up to. Ah, she's pissed off about having to work on the weekend, so she wants to pick a fight with someone to assert her dominance! And of all people, she chose powerless conscripts. Truly, she was a pathetic excuse for an officer.

The two of them stood silently, careful not to provoke her further. Yet, she kept rolling her eyes around, searching for any little thing to nitpick. I want to gouge those eyes right out of her skull... Watching her eyes dart around like a snake, Corporal Kim Chung-ho felt a profound wave of revulsion.

"Hey." Having finally found ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her pretext, the female officer speaks up. "Sergeant Park Hyun-woo." "Corporal Kim Chung-ho." "Why did you throw your cigarette butts on the ground?"

The two of them looked back.

"..."

Of course, they both knew that littering cigarette butts wasn't right. But the spot where they had been smoking was already a complete disaster zone. Since the protesters had already swept through, the area was piled high with all kinds of trash, including countless other cigarette butts. Now she cares? they both thought.

Even the female officers were smoking in small groups nearby, and naturally, they were tossing their butts onto the ground as well. Do these bitches take a mandatory class on double standards at the Non-Commissioned Officer Academy? The two of them shook their heads inwardly at her sheer hypocrisy. But what could they do? Rank was absolute.

"Wipe that look off your faces."

"My apologies, ma'am."

"Hey, soldiers. Who told you that you could show your attitude like that?"

"We have no complaints, ma'am."

"No? Your faces are practically screaming that you're pissed off. Who told you to litter?"

"My apologies, ma'am."

Fucking bitch, what do you want us to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠do?

"I've had enough. Run over there and pick up those cigarette butts."

"Understood, ma'am." The two of them dragged their feet. They didn't want their leave revoked, but it was more than just that.

"I said run! Do you want to do this in full combat gear?"

"No, ma'am!"

They had heard the story of a private who had lost his life after being forced to run in full combat gear—with extra books stuffed into his pack—just because he had displeased a female officer.

Of course, Sergeant Park Hyun-woo and Corporal Kim Chung-ho had been in the military long enough to know how to slack off if given such an absurd order, but they still wanted to avoid the hassle. After being run ragged a few times under her orders, they were finally allowed to return to the formation. By the time they got back, the female officer who had chewed them out was nowhere to be seen.

"Where did that bitch go?"

"Who fucking knows. Probably slacking off somewhere..."

Just as they suspected, the female officers had left only the male conscripts on overnight duty while they took turns resting. In fact, because they were away from their usual duties, the female officers' faces looked well-rested and glowing.

In contrast, the male soldiers were slowly wearing down from the consecutive overnight shifts. Yet, even after resting, the female officers constantly wore **haughty facial expressions**, taking out their frustrations on the soldiers and riding them relentlessly. The soldiers' patience was reaching its absolute limit. And the same was true for the protesters standing right before them.

"Repeal the pension cuts!"

"Reverse the reduction of veteran welfare!"

"Abolish feminist supremacy policies!"

The protesters screamed with raw, bitter rage. Some of them were missing arms. Some were missing legs. Some were missing eyes. Some had no fingers, others no toes. Even those who were physically whole were likely suffering from severe PTSD. Or perhaps both.

"Honestly, I wish I was standing over there with them," Chung-ho muttered.

"Me too."

Sergeant Park Hyun-woo and Corporal Kim Chung-ho felt a deep sense of solidarity as they watched them. Those people were not their enemies. The protesters standing before them were their seniors. Their comrades. They were just like them. They had served at different times, but they had occupied the same space. And they were a minority. No one would listen to their voices.

And behind them stood the female officers and the old pigs. They all had their arms and legs intact. None of them had ever experienced PTSD. They were the majority. And because it was what they wanted, comrades were forced to fight comrades.

"It's fucking hilarious..." Sergeant Park Hyun-woo let out a dry chuckle, finding something absurdly funny about it all. He couldn't quite pinpoint what was so amusing, but it was hilarious nonetheless. Then, someone in the middle of the crowd began to sing a military anthem.

Before they knew it, Sergeant Park Hyun-woo and Corporal Kim Chung-ho were singing along, their voices joining the mournful, funeral-like melody.

The female officers began to stir in unease. They did not sing along. The old pigs and the women watching the protest did not sing along either. Because they did not know this song.

"Comrade! Do you see it!"

No matter how he looked at it, the protesters were not the enemy. They were just like them. Then who was the enemy? Who was different from them? The protesters in front? No. North Korea? Gone. Russia? China? Japan? They were all left on life support after the war.

"Comrade, do you see it!"

Then who on earth was their enemy? The wounded old pine tree had lost its words. He could see no enemy in his sight.

"Those eyes filled with deep resentment!"

Only eyes filled with deep, bitter resentment met his gaze.

The protesters' rage slowly reached a boiling point. The crowd began to march forward, closing in on Sergeant Park Hyun-woo and Corporal Kim Chung-ho. The gap between them shrank. The two gripped their cheap, rotting riot ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠batons. When the riot control forces were deployed, they hadn't been issued a single proper firearm. Though the higher-ups never said it out loud, the reason was obvious: they were afraid the soldiers would turn their guns on them.

An army without guns... Corporal Kim Chung-ho let out a hollow laugh, dumbfounded by the absurdity. Yet, deep down, they felt a sense of relief. After all, shooting and killing their own 'comrades' would be a horrific nightmare. Those bastards deserved to die, but at least they wouldn't have to be the ones to pull the trigger.

The protesters drew closer. Twenty meters. Fifteen meters.

"Are you ready?"

"Whew..."

"Move, move, move!"

The sound of soldiers calmly catching their breath clashed with the shrill, haughty screams of the female officers driving them forward, turning the scene into utter chaos. Ten meters. The protesters closed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the distance, their roaring voices echoing in their ears.

"Get ready!"

"Keep your heads straight!"

The riot control forces shouted back, steeling their resolve. They all shared the same desperate thought. Anyone... please, anyone. Just listen to our voices.

And someone did.

Thud—!

A massive wing-body trailer truck screeches to a halt, cutting right between the protesters and the riot control forces. Following the trailer, one-ton trucks, vans, and various other cargo vehicles arrive in rapid succession.

"...?"

A sudden silence falls over the crowd.

"...??"

"...?"

Sergeant Park Hyun-woo and Corporal Kim Chung-ho stare in utter bewilderment. They hadn't heard anything about this. What in the world was going to happen?

Then, "...?"

The cargo doors of the massive wing-body truck slowly begin to rise. Standing inside is—

"Command Sergeant Major?"

It was Command Sergeant Major Kim Young-soo, who had been promoted to the rank at a relatively young age.

"Aigoo— you boys have been through hell! You've worked your fucking asses off! Yes, you have!"

Command Sergeant Major Kim Young-soo's face was flushed red, looking as though he had downed a few drinks before arriving.

"Aigoo, officers of the Capital Defense Command! These boys are our troops, so we'll be taking charge of them now!" Kim Young-soo shouts toward the female officers in his thick, drawling Gyeongsang dialect.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Whose authorization do you have to do this?"

The female officers immediately protest. Then, a female captain steps forward with a **haughty facial expression**, demanding answers.

"Sergeant Major! What is the meaning of this? Return to your unit immediately! Under whose authority are you acting?!"

Kim Young-soo scratches his head. "Well now, it seems you're having a bit of trouble grasping the situation. These boys belong to our unit. They're not under the Capital Defense Command's jurisdiction. And..."

He walks right up to the female captain. Then—

Thud!

"Who the fuck said you could talk down to me, you crazy bitch?" He kicks her squarely in the chest.

"Kyaaa!" The female captain lets out a pathetic shriek as she collapses onto the asphalt.

"Alright, boys! The guns are here! Grab your weapons!" Kim Young-soo waves his hands like a street vendor, pointing toward the trailers and cargo trucks.

Inside the cargo beds—

"Wait, aren't these North Korean weapons?"

"An AK?"

"Is this... that Type-something rifle? I don't remember the exact name, but isn't that it?"

"There are RPGs in here too, and what was it... an Igla?"

The riot control soldiers crowd around the trucks, murmuring in shock.

"Command Sergeant Major, what on earth is all this?"

"What does it look like, you idiot? A soldier needs a weapon to fight. Besides, you boys know how to use North Korean gear." Kim Young-soo chuckles boisterously.

He wasn't wrong. Under the guidelines for utilizing hostile equipment in northern territories and reinforcing squad-level firepower, the South Korean military had acquired and used stockpiles of weapons left behind by the former North Korean regime. Furthermore, hot-blooded soldiers had often kept North Korean weapons as personal 'trophies' after the war, using them covertly.

"So... what exactly are we supposed to do with these weapons, sir?" Corporal Kim Chung-ho asks.

"Man, you boys are slow." Kim Young-soo raises a finger. "Over there..."

"Ah..."

"That place..." He points directly at the Government Complex.

The command that followed was simple.

"By order of the Commander of the Northern Military Government!" Kim Young-soo bellows, resting his hands on his hips as his voice thunders across the plaza.

Seoul's Spring had returned.