The Mage of Leavenworth (1)
The sun rises in the east, the earth still turns, and a new day begins in Leavenworth.
And a new day beginning means I have to see Brigadier General Drum's face first thing.
"Your popularity is absolutely explosive."
"I've always been popular."
Back in the day, whenever I went to a party, women would… run away in a hurry. Yellow monkey blah blah sob sob. Thank you for taking me in, Lady Dorothy, I'm forever loyal.
"I see. How is the analysis of combat records coming along?"
"We're currently compiling testimonies from participants. We plan to separate it into a casebook publication and officially introduce it starting next year."
"Good, good. Speed is the priority above all else, so proceed quickly."
I may have given things a little push, but Drum is soaring like an albatross that had only been waiting for momentum.
This man…
He's seriously planning to go head-to-head with MacArthur.
Stop! Hey, beyond that lies hell!
I did egg him on, sure, but seeing him charge forward so heroically is honestly a bit troubling. It seems like he thinks that if he gangs up with the tradition-clinging, denture-clacking old guard, they can take down MacArthur…
And I was starting to feel uneasy.
What if Drum actually wins?
At first, I thought it was just the kind of drinking-table joke Chaffee would casually toss around, but as the saying goes, even a dying fish is still a fish—Drum's ability to set the board was no joke.
If MacArthur wins, that's just business as usual.
He'll probably strike every possible over-the-top pose, spout something like, "Did you see that, junior? The incompetent always gather like a flock of crows," beat everyone down, and radiate an aura of "Now hurry and praise the victorious MacArthur!"
But what if MacArthur actually gets crushed?
He already had a paranoid episode last time—what if it's not delusion this time, and he actually gets overwhelmed in a power struggle?
The Douglas I know, who's been chewing on humiliation day after day, would evolve into something even worse and come back later for bloody revenge. I don't care whether Drum gets forced to resign or not, but imagining MacArthur with bloodshot eyes launching a purge and vengeance… that's terrifying. Seriously terrifying.
"Oh, and one more thing."
"Yes, sir."
"Please convey my congratulations to Mrs. Kim. I, too, pray she delivers a healthy child."
"Thank you. Please make sure I don't get transferred until the baby is born."
"Don't worry."
And so, the "Making Henry a Younger Sibling Project" had begun.
That was one more reason I absolutely couldn't be pushed out of Leavenworth.
Medicine hadn't yet reached the level of the 21st century.
People could be gone in an instant.
There was now one more fragile life I had to protect.
At a time when I was walking a political tightrope, where a single mistake could send me off to Panama or the Philippines…
A pregnant woman couldn't travel far, so if I got transferred, I'd have to go alone.
And that would mean Dorothy would give birth again without me.
But I couldn't say anything.
If I suggested waiting a little longer before having a child, Dorothy—sharp as she is—would immediately catch on. And knowing her, she'd just smack my back and say, "Why are you worrying about something so pointless?"
We're the kind of couple that absolutely hates burdening each other. In a way, we're perfectly matched.
The fact that I wasn't there when Henry was born already left me with nothing to say, even if I had a hundred mouths.
If I missed this one too? Honestly, I'd be grateful if she just pointed a shotgun at me. If your wife starts thinking, "Sigh… I knew this would happen when I married a soldier," then you're already a hopeless husband and father.
And honestly, I'm just a tiny bit bitter—who knew the baby would come this quickly?
But it really did happen.
In the end, if I just hold my ground, everything will work out. This time, at least, I'll see my child's face before any transfer happens.
Unlike my previous life, the number of people I have to protect keeps increasing.
My shoulders felt heavier, but not in a bad way—it only fueled my determination.
But determination is for outside matters.
Even beasts don't growl once they're back home.
"Go wash up and change first."
"Nooo~ Yujin already took his socks off~ Yujin is free now~"
"Dad, your feet stink."
"My son, this is the smell of labor—ow! Ow!"
"Look at you, behaving so well in front of the kid."
Dorothy's gaze toward me was starting to resemble the way she looked at Henry. Must be my imagination… right?
"Dad, it says there's a baby in here."
"Yeah, yeah. If Henry listens well and behaves, your sibling will be born soon."
"Then does Dad have to behave too? What if the baby smells your stinky feet and doesn't want to come?"
"..."
Dorothy doubled over, laughing uncontrollably.
At this rate, the authority of the head of the household is collapsing. This father once commanded tens of thousands of soldiers and held a blade to the necks of the Kaiser and Ludendorff—what has become of me!
Clearly, I need a tank.
If Henry sees his father skillfully handling that cool, powerful steel beast, he'll surely realize what a great man his dad is and develop a deep sense of respect.
I guarantee it—there's no boy in the world who dislikes tanks. It's the same reason kids rarely dislike big, awesome things like weapons, trains, or dinosaurs.
After I finished washing up, Dorothy spoke as if she had been waiting.
"Oh, right. My older brother is coming over this weekend."
"Really? It'll be my first time meeting him."
Charles Curtis Jr.
Since he's my brother-in-law, it's about time I heard the story.
After Henry fell asleep, Dorothy slowly began telling me about the Curtis family's past.
To sum it up, it was the kind of story you'd find in almost any family.
A father who wanted his son to inherit his work.
A son who didn't want that.
Listening to it made me realize again—family matters rarely go as planned.
Even someone like him—a well-established politician who seemed like he had a master key to everything—had family problems.
Of course, I'm a bit different.
I have no intention of passing down this damned soldier's life as a family profession.
At the very least, I believe I've never done anything shameful as a soldier.
I've never brutally suppressed colonial populations as part of an imperial army, nor have I served a criminal regime like Nazi Germany or the Japanese military. Both World War I and World War II—arguably the peak of a military career—were wars I can proudly say I fought for freedom. There's nothing there to be ashamed of.
But what if Henry becomes a soldier?
At worst, he might end up in something like the Vietnam War.
What if Henry throws a tantrum and insists on enlisting? Should I stop him or not?
And what if I stop him, but he runs away from home and stubbornly gets into West Point anyway?
Wow… just thinking about it already makes my head spin. This is driving me crazy.
***
"Nice to meet you. I'm Charles Curtis Jr."
"I'm Yujin Kim. Since you're my elder brother, please speak comfortably."
"Then I will. I was worried whether anyone brave enough could take that wild filly off our hands, but this is a relief. If there's ever trouble at home, let me know. I can't help much, but I can at least teach you how to get hit less."
"Oppa!!"
"Whoa. Did she swallow a train whistle? See? She's no joke."
"Haha. She's my precious wife. Hahaha."
Soon after, our adorable Henry greeted his uncle for the first time, and we shared a meal while chatting about all sorts of trivial things.
Naturally, the main topic of conversation was Dorothy.
Only after we were completely full did the two of us finally sit alone in the study.
"Did Dorothy tell you a lot about me?"
"Not really. I only heard that you left home because you didn't see eye to eye with Congressman Curtis."
"I didn't run away from home. Since it happened when she was young, she probably doesn't know the details. I love the plains of Kansas, but my curiosity and longing for the world beyond the sea were far stronger than that love."
So he had that restless wanderer's spirit.
"My father wanted me to inherit his constituency, but… well. To be honest, my views don't align with the Republicans."
"Even though Congressman Curtis is known to be quite progressive?"
"Progressive, my ass. The Republican Party is already starting to rot. Republican progressives? Like Theodore Roosevelt? Those people are just imperialists."
"Then… are you actually, like, a sociali—"
"I am absolutely not a red. Absolutely not. If I were, do you think I'd be insane enough to meet my brother-in-law? I don't have a hobby of knowingly ruining my own future."
Well, that's a relief.
In this era, the Republicans are clearly the more progressive side, while the Democrats tend to stink of reactionary nonsense shouting about white power. So if he doesn't like Republicans… then what is he?
"As soon as I came of age, I jumped straight into the shipping business. Like Dorothy said, I didn't exactly leave home—I was just constantly traveling for work, so I rarely made it back. It's not like a seafarer can just pop over to Kansas, right? At least D.C. is near the sea, so I did get to see my father from time to time."
"That's a relief. I was a bit worried, to be honest."
"Yeah. I benefited from my father in various ways, and now I've built myself up enough to carry some weight of my own."
For a while, we exchanged stories of our own exploits.
Naturally, I talked about the battlefield, while Curtis Jr. spoke about his business ventures, and before long, the conversation naturally drifted into Asia-Pacific trade.
"As expected."
He set down his nearly empty teacup with a faint smile.
"To be honest, when I heard you were an army war hero… a ground-pounder—ah, excuse me—I pictured someone like Sherman or Grant."
That's basically just a prequel to Patton. Please stop lumping a refined and intellectual person like me together with those kinds of men.
"But I kept hearing bits and pieces about you here and there, and when I realized that person was my brother-in-law, I simply couldn't ignore my curiosity."
"My name comes up outside the army too?"
"I deal mainly in trade, so I have plenty of connections in the navy and the State Department. Those people wouldn't normally bring up a mere army officer, yet every now and then, your name would come up."
That report again, huh.
Well, it makes sense. That thing was my masterpiece, crafted specifically to stand out.
I doubt I'll ever make such a ridiculous report again in my life, but still—it feels pretty good knowing my stock has risen.
"Just asking in case… you wouldn't consider working for the State Department, would you?"
"Of course not. Who do you think I am, going to the State Department?"
"You have no idea how much chaos you caused over there. If the Secretary of War had sent a challenge to a duel, it would've been less of a stir. I'm surprised no one's tried to recruit you yet."
"Well… it's a bit embarrassing to say this myself, but someone who's already received a generous number of medals doesn't exactly fit into the State Department, does he?"
"That's true."
He nodded.
"Then… do you have any interest in the Democratic Party?"
"None at all."
"No, no, I'm not suggesting you go into politics. Hmm. Even as a soldier, if you want to rise, you need some kind of channel to communicate with the political world, don't you? Even if the Democrats are practically guaranteed to remain the opposition, wouldn't it be wise to establish at least one connection?"
Well, I'd gladly take that.
After the Great Depression, the Republican administration will collapse.
Then Franklin Roosevelt will hold the White House for over a decade, followed by Truman—an extended era of Democratic rule.
Right now, Congressman Curtis's backing feels very reassuring, but I don't believe it'll last forever. Even if it's not something I dared hope for, having a line of communication with the Democrats would be nothing but beneficial.
"I know someone I get along with very well. He's not like those southern fools scrambling to own black slaves, and he's a man with a remarkably broad perspective and excellent judgment.
The problem is, he took a bit of a hit because of this Wilson resignation issue, but I don't think he's the kind of person who would collapse over something like that. At the very least, he'll hold his ground as part of a minority faction within the Democratic Party."
"If you speak so highly of him, then of course I'd like to form a good connection. May I ask who he is?"
"Ah, I haven't even mentioned his name yet. Franklin. He's running as the Democratic vice-presidential candidate this time. This election is a lost cause anyway—are you alright?"
…Damn.
Oh, damn.
Looks like fate hasn't abandoned me after all!
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