93rd Division, Ignition (1)
One of the leaders of the Black community in the United States, William Edward Burghardt Du Bois, had been waiting for today's meeting.
"Good to meet you."
"I've heard much about your reputation, Congressman."
"Haha. It is your reputation that resounds across the world."
Congressman Curtis exchanged a light handshake before taking his seat.
"Time is money. Let's settle the urgent matters first."
"Very well. I heard your son-in-law has been put in command of a Black combat division this time."
"That's right. Mind if I have a smoke?"
"Go ahead."
Curtis took a deep draw from his cigar and let out a long sigh.
"Blacks, Indians, Asians… It's truly a melting pot of races."
"Until now, both Washington and the military have all insisted that Blacks cannot be used as combat troops. First, I would like to express my gratitude for you taking on that burden."
"I didn't take it on. That damned son-in-law of mine did it on his own."
He was already aware of how things were unfolding, having received word through urgent channels.
All or nothing.
Everything or nothing at all.
He knew of his son-in-law's ambition to rise to fame through military merit, but to think he would so readily gamble on something like this…
For a moment, Curtis even wondered if Pershing was trying to push Yujin into a corner, but he quickly refocused on the man before him.
"From the perspective of Black Americans, I believe this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."
"I agree. It cannot be missed."
"Let's concentrate all our capabilities on the 93rd Division for now. Having no chance to shed blood at all and seizing an opportunity are entirely different matters."
The situation was already moving rapidly.
The first thing that had to be handled, of course, was the massive purchase request Yujin had sent.
[There's no way they won't tamper with supplies. The U.S. forces here lack equipment anyway and have to rely on Britain and France. I would appreciate it if you could send what you can first, even if it means using your own funds back home.]
Starting with thirty thousand Greek guns and their ammunition, the sheer scale of the request made it clear to everyone that Yujin was serious.
At a meeting between Yujin Kim's father and Henry Ford, the three of them fully agreed that, by any means necessary, they had to expand the standing of the 93rd Division first.
A Black division was only the beginning.
A half-formed division that hadn't even been properly assigned an artillery regiment. Through backchannel contacts in Washington, they had already begun discussing the absorption or integrated operation of the 92nd Division, another Black unit.
At the very least, a Black corps had to be formed. If nothing else, mixed Black-and-white operations had to be achieved in this war.
'Will being tied to Black troops cause problems later? …No. I'm not in a position to worry about that anymore. Damn it. If he makes my daughter cry, I'll kill him.'
Riding the tiger.
Only the results would prove everything.
***
Saint-Nazaire.
Nearly all American troops deployed to Europe set foot in France through this port.
This time was no different.
As the officers dispatched for the formation of new units finally disembarked from the transport ship, the unfamiliar streets of France welcomed them.
"Woooah…"
"This is France?"
"The atmosphere's really different."
The older men remained silent, their minds filled with thoughts of the battlefield ahead, but the young second lieutenants and lieutenants chattered endlessly in excitement.
Most of the truly outstanding talents had already been scooped up by Pershing and assigned to the American Expeditionary Forces, or were still in training back home to cultivate new officers.
As a result, most of these men were spirited college graduates who, until recently, had never even imagined becoming soldiers.
To defend freedom and justice against the hand of evil autocracy!
A yearning for the battlefield and firm conviction burned quietly in their hearts.
"Officers of the United States Army! As soon as you disembark, move quickly!"
"Fall in! Fall iiin!!"
Following guidance, they moved to the barracks prepared for their stay.
"You will rest here for a few days before moving to your assigned posts! From now on, we will inform you of the rules you must follow while staying here in Saint-Nazaire!"
Several soldiers began handing out sheets of guidance to the officers. The paper was densely packed with rules to follow, simple French phrases, and key tips on how to handle trouble—essential information that would prove invaluable.
"Prostitution! Absolutely no prostitution! When you go on leave, I know many of you will be itching to head to the red-light district, but General Pershing has made it clear—anyone caught going there, or anyone hospitalized and diagnosed with a venereal disease, will be stripped of their uniform and thrown into the Atlantic! Absolutely do not go! Military police are patrolling!"
"Damn it, we can't go?"
"We held it in all that time on the ship, and we still can't go here?"
"Cut it out, you godless bastards. Will you die if you don't go?"
After the brief crash course ended, the man who had been shouting up front moved on to the next part.
"Uh… next, we will have someone else come in to share a few words with you."
"What is it?"
As everyone wondered, a new figure entered, and silence immediately fell.
A brilliantly shining colonel's insignia.
Clearly a high-ranking officer—but his face looked remarkably young. Didn't he look about the same age as them?
And his skin—a faint yellow hue.
Putting all of that together, there was only one possible conclusion.
"Major Kim?"
"The Hero of Cambrai?"
"But those are colonel's insignia. Did he get promoted again while we were crossing the ocean? Skipped lieutenant colonel?"
"Attention."
As he spoke, even those whispering among themselves turned forward, straightening their backs at once.
"My name is Yujin Kim. I graduated from West Point in 1915, was commissioned, participated in the Punitive Expedition against Pancho Villa and was promoted to first lieutenant… and now, I find myself bearing the very heavy rank of colonel."
"..."
"You have likely come here after completing the training system I established. While training many college students and passionate young men, I once again realized how proud I am that our United States is filled with such fervent patriots. I sincerely welcome all of you who have come all the way to distant Europe for the sake of freedom and justice!"
Clap clap clap clap!
As he began to applaud, everyone responded, and soon a thunderous round of applause filled the room.
"Freedom! And justice! There are countless nations in this world, but these are words that truly exist only in the United States! What other civilized nation would have fully accepted me and entrusted me with such a heavy position and responsibility?
The British wanted to use me as a clown. The French would have probably dumped me somewhere in Vietnam. The Germans? There's no way the Germans would have let me live! Only the United States recognized my abilities and placed me here! Oh, United States, land of the American Dream!!"
"Wooooooah!!!"
The deep desires burning in their hearts—
Battlefields, victory, achievements, honor, and advancement!
As someone their own age who had seized all of these in one stroke roared like a lion, it was like pouring oil onto the flames in the young men's hearts.
"And now! I stand here to offer you an incredible opportunity!"
All eyes focused on him once more.
"Gentlemen. Two officers were each assigned a group of soldiers to train. One officer received strong, able-bodied men, while the other was given weak, frightened ones. Both officers trained diligently and raised their units into formidable soldiers of the United States Army.
Then tell me—who accomplished the greater feat and earned greater recognition?"
"The latter, sir!!"
"Correct. Without question, the latter accomplished the more difficult and demanding task. And here, today, I wish to offer you the most difficult and demanding challenge of all."
Yujin Kim stepped down from the podium and strode right up to them, shouting passionately.
"Right now, on this land of France, there are Black soldiers who bravely crossed the Atlantic to raise the Stars and Stripes! They had every reason to say, 'This is a white man's war—it has nothing to do with us.' But enlightened under the name of God and the United States, they chose to sacrifice themselves for freedom and justice!!"
"Black soldiers?"
"…Coloreds?"
"You there!"
Yujin pointed directly at a second lieutenant standing stiffly before him.
"Yes, sir—"
"No need for rank and name. What did you do before enlisting?"
"I wanted to become a teacher!"
"A teacher! Excellent. Why did you choose to take up a rifle instead of a chalk?"
"To protect my family, my country, and freedom!"
"Exactly. Those who have lived in the most wretched and suffering conditions in this nation have risen bravely, driven by nothing but the will to save strangers! As one who wished to become a teacher, do you have the confidence to turn the ignorant and untrained into true soldiers of the United States?!"
"I do!!"
"Good! Will you join me in forging the strongest soldiers in the finest unit?!"
"If you give me the chance, I will succeed!"
"Not 'will succeed'—say 'I will do it!' properly!"
"I will do it!"
"Excellent. You have seized the greatest opportunity. Only you can stand with Yujin Kim in the worst moments, the harshest battlefields, and claim the greatest glory!"
As Yujin swept his arm, waiting soldiers began distributing new sheets of paper.
"93rd Division… application form?"
"A place where only those capable of turning men deemed inferior, weak, and unfit for soldiering into the finest warriors may apply! A place where, before the gates of God, you can proudly declare, 'I have saved one lost sheep rather than ninety-nine!'
Those without confidence, those who are timid, those who prefer safety over challenge—do not hesitate. Return the application I have given you! But!!"
The second lieutenant who had wanted to become a teacher filled in his name without the slightest hesitation and handed it to Yujin.
Yujin immediately took the paper in his left hand and extended his right.
"Welcome to the 93rd Division, a place where only the best of the best may stand. Now let me ask—who are you, and where are you from?"
"Second Lieutenant John R. Hodge! From Illinois!"
"Good. Forget being a mere second lieutenant. As of today, you're a first lieutenant."
The two men clasped hands firmly and shook.
Hodge's face was filled with joy and emotion.
***
"Urrrgh!!"
"Is your stomach upset, sir?"
"No way. Whew. I didn't even eat anything, but I feel full! Hahaha!!"
Answering the driver casually, I fanned the thick stack of papers in my hand.
Just look at this pile of applications.
All it took was a little nudge to their pride, and so many of them eagerly signed their names, desperate to prove themselves.
This land doesn't have those "Have you heard the word?" types, or the "Let's do a personality test" people, or shady guys handing out StarCraft and Diablo CDs in front of elementary schools to lure kids into academies. And yet they're all falling for such basic persuasion—it's almost embarrassing.
General Pershing said that as long as they volunteered without coercion, I could take as many as I wanted. Well then, of course I'll "persuade" them without laying a finger on them.
Their original units are probably foaming at the mouth over losing a bunch of officers overnight—but what can they do? If they don't like it, they should try persuading them like I did. I have no intention of giving them back.
Man, doing such a good deed this enthusiastically has made my throat sore. It's been a while since I talked this much—it's exhausting.
A "yellow monkey" with no connections—people must have wondered how I was planning to gather officers. How many must have laughed behind my back when I sent letters to my West Point friends?
But connections? I don't need that crap. I guarantee you—it's far easier to pick up officers in Saint-Nazaire than it is to dig potatoes out of a field. Potato farming is way harder than this.
If I grind it out a few more times, my officer corps will be complete.
Personal weapons and tanks are already crossing the ocean.
I'm clinging even more desperately to my friends for support.
As for supplies, after pulling a pistol and throwing a few fits, at least we're no longer being discriminated against.
Now…
It's time to turn these suckers into soldiers.
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