The Outcasts of the Nation

American soldiers. Especially those who had participated in the Vietnam War, were met with nationwide scorn from the American public. Even though it had been a "conscription."

"You were simply following the orders of your country. And you silently carried out your duties. Even though it was a war you did not want."

One thousand veterans listened to Yoon-gi’s words, their hearts weeping. It was true. They hadn't gone to war because they truly wanted to. It is a fact that many people are unaware of, but the United States enforced a draft from 1948 to 1973. Like the young men of South Korea, countless young Americans were forcibly sent to the battlefield by their country's command. And when they returned home after the Vietnam War, they were met with the cynicism and insults of a public ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that was entirely different from the one that had greeted the veterans of World War II.

"However, American society did not accept you. It did not want to listen to the horrific things you endured in Vietnam. No, it didn't even want to know. Even though you, too, were only doing what your country told you to do."

Before long, some of the men began to shed tears.

"I have heard about what happened in Vietnam through books, newspapers, and the radio. But I feel that this is not enough. If you could tell me what you experienced in Vietnam right here, right now, I would be truly grateful. Among the heroes here, is there anyone who would like to share their memories of Vietnam?"

The thousand people flinched, but none could bring themselves to raise a hand. It was likely due to the contempt they had faced in American society simply for being "Vietnam veterans," and the horrific PTSD that surfaced at the mere thought of speaking about it.

"I know it is difficult. But if you want your heroic, sorrowful stories to be known by future generations, now is the opportunity. I will set the history of heroes straight."

Finally, a white man who appeared to be in his mid-to-late thirties raised his hand with great difficulty.

"There, one hero has found the courage. I would be grateful if you could all welcome him with applause."

At Yoon-gi’s words, a thousand people clapped, and the auditorium echoed solemnly. Clap, clap, clap, clap! It was still awkward, stiff applause. Because of that, the man in his mid-to-late thirties walked up to the podium with a trembling body.

"What is your name?"

"Eric... please, just call me Eric."

Eric, who was bald and had a long scar on his cheek, could not easily fix his eyes on one place.

"Everyone, Eric here wishes to share his story from Vietnam with you. They say that joy shared is doubled, and sorrow shared is halved. Please, everyone, focus on Eric’s story."

Yoon-gi handed the microphone to Eric, who hesitated before finally opening his mouth.

"I was drafted in '72..."

Considering the Vietnam War ended in 1975, Eric was someone who had been drafted in the latter stages of the war. Even considering that the U.S. draft ended in 1973, Eric was also a man who was "terribly unlucky." If he had been born just a few years later, he wouldn't have had to witness the horrors of war.

"I married early. One morning, my wife told me with a smiling face that she had happy news. Do you know what that was?"

No one answered Eric. There were certainly those who had thought of the answer, but the auditorium lacked the heat for people to be proactive yet, so it couldn't be helped. However, Eric did not feel disappointed and continued his story. A memory that was painful even to recall. But as he thought about sharing that memory with people who had similar experiences, he found his courage growing little by little.

"My wife told me she was pregnant. Two months, she said. At that time, I was so happy that I made love with my wife on the sofa."

Smiles appeared on the faces of a few people. After all, happy memories are a joy just to hear about.

"It was then that a letter arrived for me."

Suddenly, a sigh erupted in the auditorium.

"Yes, it is exactly what you are thinking. It was a draft notice. Before long, I had to leave my pregnant wife and go to boot camp."

Sighs of all kinds, such as "Haa" and "Whew," erupted in the auditorium once again.

"I still trained well at boot camp. And I even ended up going to Vietnam. And not long after, I heard the news of my wife's miscarriage."

The sighing in the auditorium grew louder.

"But my superiors wouldn't give me leave. I had no choice but to write letters to my wife saying I would return soon. But after the miscarriage, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my wife... didn't... send me any letters..."

Eric, who had been trembling his two fists on the podium, kept his head bowed before lifting it again.

"The only reason I could endure in that difficult situation was because my comrades were decent people. During the Vietnam War, other companies and platoons had severe corruption, but our platoon had an exceptionally good atmosphere. Because of that, I was comforted by my platoon members and managed to hold on somehow."

Conscription inevitably leads to corruption. Would anyone believe that the military barracks corruption of the U.S. military at the time of the draft easily surpassed that of 1980s Korea? In Korea, there is a lack of reasons to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠discriminate based on race, but in the U.S., it exists. That alone should be enough to imagine what it was like. The moment a white senior and a black junior, or a black senior and a white junior, were packed into one platoon, it was simply a living hell. In that sense, Eric could be considered lucky.

"But that happiness with my platoon members didn't last long..."

Everyone held their breath and focused on Eric's words.

"Our platoon subdued a village. And we decided to rest there that day. While we were doing that, a woman carrying a baby appeared outside the village."

Eric paused for a moment before continuing.

"They were kind people..."

Eric trembled.

"They were kind people..."

Tears flowed from Eric's eyes.

"Everyone ran to help that woman. But a few seconds later... red rain fell from the sky..."

As if everyone had imagined what had happened just from Eric's words, they trembled.

"I still have dreams these days. Dreams of red rain falling from the sky... I can't even hear the screams of my platoon members. It's just... just... red rain falling. Over and over... over and over. And when the red rain falls so heavily that I can't even breathe, I wake up from my sleep covered in sweat. Now, in my bed without my wife..."

With those words, Eric bowed his head and wept. Since Eric didn't say what happened to his wife, no one knew. She might have died at the time of the miscarriage, or they might have divorced after Eric returned. But because they were people for whom such an ending was not unfamiliar, everyone sniffled and shed tears like Eric.

"Thank you so much. You were a hero who sacrificed your happiness for your country..."

Yoon-gi also looked at Eric with moist eyes and gave him a gentle hug. Once Eric was stabilized, Yoon-gi sent him down and looked at the people with reddened eyes.

"Is there anyone else who would like to speak?"

Then, dozens of people raised their hands. People who had suddenly become proactive. In fact, this was the very reason why these people could be used as PMC agents. It wasn't for nothing that he gathered people with similar experiences related to psychological trauma in one place in the U.S. When people with the same pain ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gather, an atmosphere of consideration and understanding for one another is formed. Moreover, since these were not people who had been discharged for being unfit during service, their level of PTSD was low, and in many cases, the PTSD had manifested because they had lost their value in society. Therefore, it could be seen that there was no problem with these people working as PMC agents.

"You there, the person wearing the brown knit hat, please."

At Yoon-gi’s words, a black man in his early forties with a sturdy build went up to the podium.

"Please, your name."

"My name is Carter."

"I see. Carter, would you share your memories with everyone?"

At Yoon-gi’s words, Carter nodded and took the microphone. And Carter's story began.

"I cannot tell you the details of my unit, but I belonged to a special forces unit."

At Carter's words, everyone looked at him with slightly admiring expressions.

"My comrades and I did a lot of things in the Vietnam War. We set bombs to blow up enemy bases, rescued hostages, and even drove armored vehicles to wipe out enemy companies with only a small number of people."

Carter didn't even have an expression of pride. Carter, who was just silently reciting the things he had done. Somehow, that appearance approached with a painful, faint longing.

"After the war ended, I was discharged. Because I couldn't endure the things I had done constantly coming to mind."

Everyone nodded as if they empathized.

"If it had only been that, I would have endured it. But..."

Carter's eyes began to redden.

"A reporter spread my personal information to the local community. I don't know how they found out, but what I had done in Vietnam was revealed. After that, my family was harassed countless times by our neighbors..."

Tears dripped from Carter's eyes.

"My child was bullied at school, and when my wife was alone at home, stones and eggs flew at our windows. Sometimes, there was even a fire of unknown origin..."

Many people let out sighs.

"I was even fired from my job. I still remember my boss's words. The words of my boss who treated me coldly, saying, 'Are you going to kill us too with the hands that killed Vietnamese people?' still remain."

Suddenly, swearing rang out in the auditorium. Swearing that someone had burst out. Then, everyone started swearing and denouncing the unfair treatment Carter had received.

It was truly an explosion like a volcano. However, when Carter started speaking again, everyone took a listening stance while still fuming.

"When I was in the military, I was a specialist. I knew how to set bombs, I knew how to drive armored vehicles, and I knew how to rescue hostages. The rescued hostages all shed tears and thanked me."

It was Carter's words that might have softened the people a little, but a reversal began.

"But even though I was the one who rescued the hostages... I couldn't save my family... My wife took her own life, and my son was beaten by a group at school and died while suffering in the hospital. I gave my youth for my country, but my country did not avenge my family. My wife took her own life, so there was no perpetrator, and my son's perpetrators were too young, so no proper punishment was handed down..."

No sooner had these words ended than the auditorium became a fiercely active volcano. People shouted in anger, and the shouting was mixed with swearing at the world. Among them, some were crying mournfully in loud voices, and others were hugging such colleagues.

Twenty minutes passed like that. Finally, after Yoon-gi comforted Carter and sent him down, he took the microphone again.

"Everyone."

At the low but disciplined words, people looked at Yoon-gi with bloodshot eyes.

"I will never abandon you."

Yoon-gi wrote a number on the blackboard prepared in the auditorium.