The Atrocities of War

I had never really known my father. When I was about three, he went off to the war in Korea; he never came back. He went MIA, and after about a year they claimed that he was dead. My mother didn’t want to admit that he was dead. She just had this feeling that one day he would come back to us.

It was a very gloomy day in Portland, Oregon. I had just returned to my apartment after a long day at work when the phone rang. My mother’s name, ‘JOHNSON, SUSAN,’ was on the call display. This was not unusual. She usually called about two or three times a day wondering about my day or asking if I can do an errand for her. This call, however, was different. She said she had gotten a large envelope from the American Army and that I should come open it. I agreed to be there after I cleaned up a bit, and hung up the phone.

The long forty-five minute traffic jam gave me a chance to ponder the thought of what was in that envelope. Could it be something to do with my father? Maybe it was one of those advertisements for the army. I did not have a good feeling about this.

When I finally reached my mother’s house, it was nearly dark. Before I could even knock on the door she opened it, and with a look of fear in her eyes, gave me the envelope with my name Brett Johnson on the label.

My mother could not stop staring at me until we sat down at the kitchen table. I decided that I would open the letter without any hesitation. What I read next would certainly change my life forever. The letter said that I must report to the army due to another war in Korea. As soon as my mother heard this she broke down in tears. She had already lost her husband to a war, and now this. I got up and comforted her. Then, she took me to her bedroom closet. She showed me a chest with all of my father’s awards and accomplishments. After showing me a few things she pulled out a necklace with a cross on it. It had belonged to my father when he was young and he had given it to her before he’d left for the war. She told me to wear it at all times, to remember how important life is, and also to remember her. After giving her a long hug and telling her I would always remember who I was representing, I gave her a goodbye kiss and left.

During the drive back home, thoughts kept racing in my mind. Most of these thoughts were full of fear. ‘What if I get ambushed and killed? What if I get captured and tortured? Will I go to heaven, or to hell? What if something bad happens to mother when I’m gone? What if the same thing that happened to my father happens to me?’ Pictures of death kept flashing in my mind causing an excruciating pain in my head.

When I finally reached home, I went straight to my bedroom, laid down on my bed and cried myself to sleep, the cross clenched firmly in my hand.

The next day I packed my bags and headed out to the airport. I flew to Virginia, where the military base was stationed. When I arrived, I picked up my bags and took a taxi to the military base. When I got there, I reported in and got my bunk in one of the houses. I was greeted by a few people in the same house. There was Jim Roberts, a metalworker from Missouri; Pete Templeton, an electrician from Montana; and Travis Greenfield, a computer technician from New Jersey. It was a very interesting bunch of people. Nonetheless, I had made a few friends in the army.

Boot camp was the worst experience I had ever gone through. We ran two miles every morning and two miles every night. In between those two runs, we would do very strenuous training. I learned the essentials of warfare and was now ready for battle.

When the list with the 5 different squads was posted, we all rushed to the bulletin board. I happened to be in the same squad as all of the three friends I had made on my first day. I was excited, but at the same time dreading going to Korea. I did not want to see the brutal mess that war is.

During the flight overseas, I got to know my comrades a little more. Jim had a wife and a baby on the way. Pete was not yet married but was engaged and was supposed to be married in a few months if it were not for this war. Travis had been married for six years and had two kids. I was the only one without a love life. Maybe this was better, because having someone expecting and praying that you’ll come home safe would make me fear and hate war a lot more.

We arrived in P’yonggang, South Korea at our military base there. There were reports that the Korean army could attack P’yonggang at any time. We had barely gotten inside our camp when all of a sudden there was an explosion about half a mile to the west of us. We were all called to arms immediately.

Our squad moved up the west flank towards the predicted site of the explosion – about a quarter of a mile or so – and hid inside a trench and waited for the signal to move forward. As soon as there was gunfire in the east, we were to move. When that time came, we moved stealthily through the forest until we spotted a whole platoon of Korean soldiers followed by a couple of tanks. Then, out of the blue, Pete got hit in the shoulder with a bullet. It was then and there that I dove to the ground witnessing the atrociousness of war.

We were under fire heavily from all sides. We had been flanked from the northwest and were caught off guard. Luckily, we were able to crawl into a deep, nature-made trench. We kept on being bombarded but held our ground. Then, a Korean threw a grenade into the trench that we were all in. Using our quick instincts, we all jumped out and ran back to the trench in which we had been before; losing a few guys to the thousands of bullets that flew from the Koreans' guns.

We made a plan to escape to the west and try to flank around this group. One by one, we managed to sneak away to the west and into a long grass field. After traveling for about an hour, we could barely hear the gunfire from the south east anymore and had reached an empty, muddy field. Just as we thought we were safe, Travis got shot in the forehead, spraying blood and bits of brain matter everywhere. The bullet came from a Korean sniper in the forest to the far east. There was nowhere we could run. We decided to run straight at the forest using the dodging maneuvers we learnt at boot camp. A couple more guys got hit and were left behind. We finally reached the woods with about five guys in our squad left. As we started to enter the woods – expecting to be pounded with bullets – we found a gigantic tree with a hole in the trunk which was big enough for all five of us to fit. We sorted out a plan in which two of us went far right, two of us went far left, and the last guy stayed down the middle towards the sniper. I was chosen to be by myself. This was a fear-bringing but honoring decision.

We commenced our plan and it worked perfectly. As soon as the two guys went to the left, the sniper took a shot at them and missed, revealing his spot at the same time. I rushed straight towards him. Just as I was about to shoot, I heard gunfire to the right of me. Then, I saw Korean troops advancing towards me. The two guys to the right – one of them being Jim – had been taken out with ease. I was now in a rush to take out the sniper and find a good enough hiding spot that if they searched this area, they would not find me. I ran full speed at the sniper, firing as I ran. One of my bullets hit his thigh and he keeled over in agony. I knew I had him. I ran up to him and kicked onto his back, revealing something so shocking, I almost vomited.

The sniper was my father.

We both stared at each other in shock for a few moments but after realizing that the Koreans were hot on our trail, I picked him up and started running to my fellow squad members. With the burden of my father on my shoulders, and no hands to hold a gun in, I was defenseless and at the mercy of the Korean army’s aim. Misjudging the preciseness of their shooting abilities, I ran in a straight line, instead of shifting back in forth to be a harder target. Then I felt it. It was like a bee the size of a plane had just stung my back. Instantly I fell, dropping my father. The Koreans surrounded us and said something in Korean. Then, one of the men went up to my father, who was lying on his stomach, and kicked him onto his back. My father was now staring down the barrel of a gun. I closed my eyes, expecting the man to shoot. He did, and the father I had only met once before, was now dead.
I started to cry, and then everything went black and my body was lifeless.

THE END