열풍이 불다불다

A hot wind blows.

Military Hospital No. 38, Changpung, January 28th, 1952

The first thing Sanghwa Park Hwan became aware of was the low, mournful call of a loon in the pine forest outside. Only gradually was this replied to - a short pause, a fluttering of wings. The chittering of other birds around the lake.

His eyes only slowly gained the ability to describe things as he became aware of the weight of his body. He shifted in his bed - it was a pleasant, winter morning. His cot was warm and there was no reason to get up. He shifted around, turning onto his side - where he vaguely became aware of a woman walking towards him, wearing a white apron. Was it his blessed mother?

“Hero, you are awake,” she said in a soft voice, her hand running along Park’s shoulder. Hero?

He sat up quite suddenly. The nurse stood, her hands trying to soothe but being batted away.

“What… is the meaning of this?” he managed, his throat burning with dehydration.

“Hero… you are in hospital, in Hwanghae.”

“My rank is Sanghwa,” he corrected her. He looked around. “My crew, where is my crew? And my regiment?”

Park looked around the small room. The walls and floor were wood, and mid-morning sunshine filtered through a window to illuminate the white of the nurse’s apron and the bedding. Freshly poached pears sat in a small dish on the side table, along with a rather large and ornate medal that Park didn’t recognize.

The commotion in the room caused two other nurses to filter in, whose faces lit up with excitement. One ran to tell the rest of the hospital. Park only felt more baffled as the nurse gave him a glass of water, which he only slowly accepted. Was this a trick? Had he been captured by the RoK?

Presently a face Park finally recognized peered into the room - Colonel General Tu Lying-Su, the man who had put Park in charge of the 119th Heavy Armoured Regiment all those years ago.

Park shot out of bed, attempting to stand to attention - but falling heavily to the floor. Even the General bent to help him get back into bed.

“My apologies, Colonel-General!” Park said in the loudest voice he could muster, saluting from his sickbed. “I had feared you were dead, sir!”

“And I, you. But our Hero of the Republic survives.”

“Sir?”

“You have been awarded the highest medal for gallantry, Park Hwan.” The Colonel General motioned to the large medal sitting on the side table. “And many more besides. Your gallantry in the combat at Taejeon is legendary throughout the country.”

“Sir…”

“Your tank was hit by an American shell. You were knocked into a coma, and brought here to help you recover. We had thought you were never going to awaken.”

Park Hwan looked at his hands. Only now did he notice two of his fingers had been carried away in the blast.

“My crew?” he asked after a while.

The Colonel General shook his head. Park let the sadness fill him for a moment before looking at the Colonel General with determination.

“I stand ready to serve the People’s Republic, Colonel General!”

To be continued…