The Fall of a Giant (6)
"You haven't crossed the line yet."
"Y-Yes, sir."
Coolidge spoke in an utterly indifferent tone, far too calmly.
But to me, it felt as if an awl of dry ice was pressed against my Adam's apple, sending chills crawling all over my skin.
"It is a natural right guaranteed by the Constitution for citizens to participate in politics."
"Yes, sir."
"However, a man in uniform can become an oppressor at any time."
"I, too, fully acknowledge the principle of civilian control—"
"Catching two rabbits at once is always tempting. You have the capability to do it. That is why I am concerned."
"Understood."
When a soldier keeps trying to meddle in politics, it stops being amusing.
That was how it sounded to me.
Coolidge left me behind, waving lazily as he went on his way, but I stood there drenched in sweat as if I had been standing under the blazing midsummer sun.
***
That very night, I went straight to see my father-in-law.
"Coolidge really said that?"
"Yes."
"Care for a drink?"
He took out two glasses, filled them generously with whiskey, and handed one to me.
Our glasses clinked, and for a moment, we silently savored the aroma of the whiskey lingering in our mouths.
Though I still couldn't tell whether the liquor was going down my throat or up my nose.
"Coolidge reminds me of a Stoic philosopher from ancient Rome. He's absolutely thorough when it comes to the ideals and norms of the United States. Both for himself and for others."
"You can tell that just from looking at his face."
"Indeed. In times like these, he's a very rare kind of man."
My father-in-law moved his lips for a moment, then spoke with a seriousness I had never seen before.
"I've already bothered you enough, so I'll ask one last time. Any intention of going into politics?"
"No."
"Would you consider taking a seat in Congress and supporting me?"
"My ambition remains with the military."
"Why? I've already made my intentions clear. So let me ask frankly. You're good at politics—very good, in fact. So why insist on being a soldier, which doesn't even pay well?"
How much should I tell him?
That I've seen the future? If I said that, all the gravity of this moment would vanish instantly.
"After seeing the Treaty of Versailles, I became convinced that another great war will break out before I retire."
"In that case, all the more reason to become a politician, isn't it? A soldier may save a million lives, but a politician can influence the United States—and even the global situation."
"Just as you are challenging the presidency to become a beacon of hope for people of color, I want to become a war hero and reach a position no one else has."
He couldn't continue.
Because in truth, we wanted the same thing—only our business cards were different.
"I used to ask you if you had any interest in taking a constituency."
"You did."
"It's only natural for businessmen to win over politicians. If anything, that's almost a virtue. Journalists must constantly stay engaged in politics and communicate with the public.
But soldiers… as you know, they're different. From Rome to Napoleon, or even the countries of South America—there are countless examples, aren't there? Those who held greater power than any politician were, without exception, soldiers."
"But this is the United States. There's someone like Wood, for example. And haven't military generals traditionally been friends of the Republican Party?"
Out of all countries, worrying about soldiers going rogue in the United States?
Leonard Wood.
Right before the U.S. entered World War I, he was a fervent Republican general who irritated Woodrow Wilson by running private training camps. Later, he became a leading Republican figure and even ran for president—though he ultimately lost to Harding.
"Of course, generals engaging in business and politics is nothing new. But son-in-law, the many things you've done behind the curtain… they're not exactly the sort of things you can openly reveal, are they?"
Curtis downed the rest of his drink in one go and refilled his glass.
"I'm not saying you've done anything wrong."
"I know. I understand that you're not scolding me."
"You did what needed to be done. Many people benefited from you. But the higher you rise in the military, the more your enemies will try to dig up what happened behind the scenes. How long do you think you can endure that?"
Edgar Hoover had already begun to vaguely catch on to what I was doing.
Perhaps my expression had stiffened too much, because my father-in-law let out a small chuckle.
"Think of it the other way around."
"The other way?"
"If that strict embodiment of rules—Coolidge—truly thought you were doing something dangerous, do you think he would have just let it slide? Just look at how he handles the antics of a mere colonel."
Now that I thought about it, he had a point.
So "you haven't crossed the line" meant something like, I'll let you live—for now.
If someone that rigid punished a man who hadn't crossed the line, that itself would violate his own principles… My brain was starting to short-circuit. Better stop.
"He probably didn't like someone like Wood either. To him, what matters most is the rules of the United States—right and wrong are a separate issue."
Having spent more years in Washington than anyone else, he nodded as he said this.
"So don't be too scared. Ha ha."
"I mean, when the President points at you and says something like that, who wouldn't be scared stiff?"
"All politicians fear the military. They always want to keep it under control. And that's no exaggeration. Because the sword is the key that can open every possibility.
Most politicians, as you said, know that it's nearly impossible for soldiers to go rogue in this United States, so they don't worry too much—but I suppose you'd call him an extreme principled man. Ha ha."
Suddenly, I was reminded of a letter sent by Tojo.
That passage—boasting that the military would set the country right in place of corrupt and incompetent politicians—abruptly stirred through my mind.
***
The next day, I was summoned by MacArthur and headed to Ubok.
Right, I needed to meet this man too.
With Marshall gone, who else was I supposed to grab and vent to? Chairman Ford wasn't quite the right person, and this ego-filled gentleman here was at least somewhat adept at handling the media—so we could probably have a proper conversation.
"I'll be attending Mitchell's court-martial as well."
"That's unfortunate."
"It's a damn disgrace. Ha, those stubborn fools are trying to cut down a great talent."
We spent some time chatting idly about the Philippines and other recent happenings, and I casually brought up my brief encounter with Coolidge.
"Ha. A man who lucked his way into the presidency should at least watch his mouth."
"H-Haha… even so, isn't that a bit harsh toward the Commander-in-Chief?"
"You heard something like that and still feel like laughing? If it were me, I would've challenged him to a duel on the spot. To serve the United States for decades, only to be repaid with words like that."
Well… when I line up everything I've done, I can't exactly argue back even if I get scolded a bit.
"I felt rather conflicted about handling Mitchell's case, but after hearing your story, I'm certain now."
"Certain of what?"
"Politicians make a living begging for votes. But this modern 20th-century world often demands highly specialized knowledge. Tell me, among politicians, who is as well-versed in the military and aviation as Billy?"
"There are quite a few politicians with military backgrounds, aren't there?"
"Not washed-up relics who took off their uniforms and got jobs in D.C. If that counts as a 'soldier,' you might as well seat a nutcracker and call it one. There's no one in Congress with a deep understanding of modern technology and doctrine."
MacArthur swirled his glass as he muttered.
"It is absolutely right for a civilian government to control the military, and as a soldier of a democratic nation, I take pride in that.
But is it right for amateurs to disregard the opinions of experts? At this rate, in the next war, how many lives must be buried just to serve as experience for politicians? And when those politicians, finally 'experienced,' lose an election—what then? Do we just reset and start over from the beginning?"
I have no idea.
Only AlphaGo could answer that question. Unless Skynet comes along to rule humanity, it's probably a dilemma we'll be stuck with forever.
"Haha. Then why don't you run for president? Candidate number one—Douglas MacArthur, to the White House!"
"Me, in politics? Honestly, I can't even imagine what I'd do outside of being a soldier. Since the day I came of age, I've never seen any other path."
That was exactly the kind of answer you'd expect from a man whose father, Arthur MacArthur, was both a hero of the Civil War and his personal idol.
"Well, complicated politics aside… it just means it'd be nice if capable soldiers became capable politicians, doesn't it?"
"Being merely capable isn't enough. They'd have to be extraordinarily capable."
"True enough. So what's going to happen with Colonel Mitchell's trial?"
"It's essentially a lynching. Think of it as an execution ceremony meant to soothe the wounded pride of the military."
What a brutally sharp way to put it.
If even MacArthur—who was quite sensitive to public opinion within the military—saw it that way, then Coolidge's influence here must really be nonexistent. If I hadn't been there myself, I would've just seen it as a clash between two prideful geniuses.
For now, I'll lie low.
Thinking about it, I got a bit too used to the thrill early on. Cutting Wilson down to size had been… honestly, a little fun.
If manipulating public opinion as a soldier is a problem, then the solution is simple—don't touch it.
There's nothing to meddle with for a while anyway. If even watching Mitchell burn so fiercely makes me think about shaping public opinion, then I'm no different from a gambling addict.
I don't know how many more years Coolidge will remain in power, but taking a cooldown and focusing on business and military life for a while wouldn't be a bad idea.
If the military rides public opinion and twists the nation into something grotesque—that's imperial Japan.
If amateurs reshape the military however they please, the price will be paid in immense bloodshed and death.
Both matter. In the end, isn't everything in this world about finding the right balance and compromise?
"So, are you going to run or not?"
"No! I'll stay in uniform until I'm old and senile!"
What is with everyone, seriously?
"Hah. You belong in the military. Compared to groveling in D.C. for votes, nitpicking over trivialities, and scheming to slash budgets, there's far more value in defeating the enemies of the United States and returning even one more soldier safely to their family."
"I think the congressmen would find that very offensive."
I mean… I am the son-in-law of one of those congressmen…
Already drunk on both alcohol and his own words, MacArthur barely listened to my small protest and continued his speech unwaveringly.
"They deserve the criticism. In Congress, propaganda and fabrication run rampant, and individual wisdom and conscience are utterly powerless. Can you really call that justice?"
"You're starting to sound like an elitist."
"What nonsense! I take great pride in democracy. I simply believe that those who can see further should bear greater responsibility."
Those who can see further bear greater responsibility, huh.
Yeah… let's just leave it at that. At least that much sounds reasonable—like some knockoff version of Spider-Man's creed.
Please, just don't do anything unnecessary. And don't go out of control, either. Right? Let's not run over helpless protesters with tanks. I just decided to keep my head down—I don't want to end up as the Tank Man.
Can I really step away from politics while leaving a walking nuclear bomb like this alone?
Once again, regret and doubt began bubbling up like hot spring water in a public bath.
READ MORE CHAPTERS HERE : https://beastnovels.com/