Dire Decisions 2

As the group approached a short hill, Shin saw a small figure in the distance approaching rapidly. He wiped away the sweat that hung on his brow and narrowed his eyes. He gave the signal to stop. Dismounting, Shin reached for his scabbard and tightened his— 

“Stop!” The figure yelled out. “I am Commander Yi.” Shin loosened his grip for a moment before tightening his grip again, tighter than before. This was the commander he was to meet at Choryeong Pass. Why was he here?

“Halt! What is your business here?” Shin shouted. 

“The Japanese have ambushed our forces. Choryeong has fallen. But hope is not lost! Let me join your counteroffensive!” Shin took a step forward. His blade seemed to pulse under the sun as he swiftly unsheathed it. The fine edge now faced Yi.

“You left your troops to die to the Japanese and fled alone, cowardly?!” Shin roared. “You should have faced defeat honorably and fought to the end with your troops! I should kill you here and now!”

Governor Kim rushed to Shin’s side. 

“Please, spare the man. He is a famed general. We need all the help we can get to defeat the enemy forces.” Shin reluctantly unsheathed his sword and got back on his horse. 

“Follow if you will. We will face the enemy at Tangeumdae.” Yi walked silently behind.

Choryeong Pass could now be seen. The yellow dirt swirled up in flame-like waves as the metallic shine of Japanese helmets, swords, and something resembling hand cannons. Shin’s forces got in formation, the cavalry placing itself wide to cover as much area of the arena-like Tangeumdae as possible. The uniform marching of the enemy could now be heard. Shin stood stoutly and observed. The forces were mostly infantry. He had a chance. If his cavalry—  

Suddenly, lightning seemed to rage among the men as crackling bursts rang in Shin’s ears, accompanied by men falling around him and despair-filled horses whinnying. The thunderous judgment didn’t stop. From nearly double the distance that hand cannons could fire, the Japanese fired volley after volley from smoking arquebuses. Shin was stunned for a moment, but quickly regained his composure and ordered his cavalry to charge. Governor Kim and General Yi were nowhere to be seen on the hazy battlefield. Shin and the cavalry that had survived the initial attack charged ahead. Every couple of meters, a man was shot down. The few men Shin had left managed to reach the frontline and cut into the defense, but the blood-soaked vegetation of the arena jutted out disruptively, heavily slowing down the offense. Defeat was imminent. Shin ordered a retreat. Men in his periphery were shot down. A bullet nicked his shoulder. The humid blanket of the land was infused with a bloody mist, and all Shin could see was red.

Shin stopped in front of the sparkling water of the Namhan River. The screams of despair and cries for mercy could barely be heard here. Shin took a step into the water. His dark, twinkling armor braced him against the current. A red thread of blood entered the stream from his shoulder. Shin used the last of his strength to dive forward. The roaring current grew louder as he sank deeper, and the cries of his army were completely drowned out. His armor continued to brace him as he slowly and stoutly descended. But under the river, the dark armor shined no longer. 

Dire Decisions

Vice Minister of War Shin Rip headed the cavalry down the rugged, hilly path, clad in dark, heavy armor that twinkled with each plodding clop of his horse. The Japanese had already broken through Busan, but the critical Choryeong Pass had not yet fallen. His ragtag group of disheveled soldiers and countrymen was the last hope for the Joseon capital. Sweat clung to every brow as the monsoon season had blanketed the land in humidity. The men’s eyes lifted as they climbed over a particular hill, as what greeted them was not another hill but the great Chungju Lake. The group’s spirits lifted as they could now rest, but their joy was dampened by the realization that Choryeong was the next stop. 

As Shin entered the city, a man came out of the barracks to meet them. 

“Sir. I am Governor Kim Su. I have gathered a good number of troops to aid you in your fight at Choryeong. It has been a rough couple of days. The troops will be glad to see you.” The man spoke rigidly and nervously. 

“Thank you. Your help is appreciated.” With that, Shin entered the barracks. Kim trailed after him, glancing at the cavalry behind Shin before entering the barracks as well. The interior was shockingly barren. 

“Surely there are more troops you have gathered?” Shin asked Kim. Kim stared blankly ahead for a moment before replying.

“A majority of my forces fled the city because they were not confident that you would arrive in time.” Shin felt his temper slowly creeping up, but let out his steam with an emphatic sigh. He gestured to Kim and led him to the command room. 

Shin discussed his plans with Kim. Although the Japanese heavily outnumbered them, Choryeong Pass provided the high ground and a narrow battlefield. If they could hold against the first wave, then they could gather more support and drive the enemy back. But the question was whether these advantages outweighed their numerical disadvantage. Shin’s forces were mostly cavalry, and therefore, the mountainous terrain of the pass would be disadvantageous. Banking on his cavalry’s skills, Shin believed that the pass was not the optimal battlefield.

“Let us face the enemy at Tangeumdae,” Shin said to Kim, “the open fields would facilitate my cavalry.” 

“But Tangeumdae is surrounded by mountains on one side and by the Namhan River on the other,” Kim protested, “retreat would be impossible.”

Shin replied grimly: “Precisely. You and I both know that humans can only accomplish impossible tasks in desperate situations.”

A couple of days later, the Korean force marched out of Chungju.

Motherly Love

I wanted to repay them.

It had been several years. I found a suitable job and got married. 

I remembered my great-grandmother and my own mother who had enabled this life for me.

However, my great-grandmother passed too soon.

I felt great sorrow in my inability to make it back sooner.

For her well-being as well as my own, I tried my best to help my mother while she still clung to the world. 

My mother and father lived back in our countryside home.

Walking up the hill, the sky seemed to take on the azure hue that I had eaten homemade jerky and picked ripe chestnuts under. 

The soil shifted from a rich mahogany to a familiar dusty yellow. The fir trees seemed to have stood unchanged, dark red with green highlights.

However, I could immediately tell that my parents had changed.

The years had certainly not been kind to them.

I found my mother struggling to walk to the bathroom. 

My father tried to help but he was weak as well, and my mother adamantly refused him nonetheless. 

He retreated and sat frowning. 

I forced my assistance, walking her to the bathrooms and even gave her a proper bath.

Her eyes were defiant the entire time. 

My father looked on in embarrassment and forced a bitter smile. 

A sharp pain in my heart overwhelmed me as I realized my parents’ chapters were coming to a close. 

In retrospect, I should have been there to support them earlier.

In retrospect, I wish I had found a senior home for her in the city.

She would have been much more comfortable. 

In retrospect, I wished I had done a lot more for her.

She had always put our family before herself.

She had so many talents— sewing, singing, dancing— but she never had the chance to fully display them.

She was also very smart, but her father forced her to quit her studies. 

Her teacher visited to tell her father that he himself would pay her expenses if she kept coming to school, but the father refused.

He asked “what good does educating a girl do?”

He would often beat her if she went out to play. 

She did everything in her power to ensure I had a better life. 

She pulled me from the brink of death twice and never expected anything in return.

The day she passed, the tears flowed endlessly.