“The guy we caught. He was the leader of the FNL (National Liberation Forces, Burundi).”
“Huh? The FNL leader?”
“What’s the FNL?”
“Didn’t we learn about them during training?”
“I know. They’re rebels.”
“There are dozens of rebel groups here.”
“So I just remember them as rebels, period. How am I supposed to memorize all of them?”
“A rebel group active in Burundi and eastern Congo. They used to be one of the largest rebel forces in Congo, but now they’ve shrunk to around a hundred members.”
“Really? Then it’s no big deal, right?”
“But he’s still a rebel leader. Their main area of operations was originally Burundi, the neighboring country. If we interrogate him on why he came all the way here, surely we’ll get something out of it?”
“Is that so? Then isn’t he an amazing person?”
“He’s not amazing. He’s a fucking bastard.”
“Hahaha. You’re right. He’s a fucking bastard.”
The day after the operation.
Our team was off duty.
Normally, after an operation, they give you the next day for maintenance.
One day of operations. One day of maintenance. Like that.
Our team had gone out on an operation yesterday, so today was a maintenance day.
We cleaned the firearms we’d used yesterday and organized our gear.
While organizing our equipment,
it felt like we were back at the ROK Peacekeeping Unit in Incheon.
That was what it was like at the ROK Peacekeeping Unit.
On days when we did maintenance instead of training.
While doing maintenance, we just kept talking.
Operation stories, training stories, unit stories.
When those stories ran out,
it was friend stories, soccer stories, baseball stories, current events stories, idol stories, YouTube Shorts stories, internet meme stories.
The topics really never ran out.
Mostly stories they didn’t even know well themselves.
They’d spew out things they’d seen and heard somewhere while doing maintenance.
I mostly just listened.
I didn’t have much to say, nor did I know much.
Even so, that time was enjoyable.
Other than being hotter than the ROK Peacekeeping Unit in Incheon,
and our lodging changing to containers, nothing much was different.
These people were always by my side.
Eleven dependable hyungs.
There were hyungs who said they’d catch the bastards who shot the youngest and chew them up, saying he got hurt.
I couldn’t say it out loud,
but honestly, I think I was a little moved back then.
“So what happens now?”
“Who knows? The UN and the Congolese government will handle that, won’t they?”
“No, not those bastards. Us.”
“What about us?”
“Don’t we get some kind of reward?”
“No way.”
“We caught the rebel leader, and they won’t give us a reward?”
“If they gave you a reward leave, would you go?”
“Reward leave?”
“You asked for a reward. I’m asking if you’d go out if they gave you leave as a reward.”
“Leave in Congo? In this crazy country where people shoot guns everywhere? Are you crazy? I don’t want to die early.”
“Euhuhuhu.”
“Don’t laugh.”
“Forget leave, I’d like to get some bonus points at least.”
“That’s right. Bonus points really help when you’re getting promoted.”
“They won’t give us money, right?”
“They probably won’t.”
Chatting about what had happened yesterday, maintenance was soon over.
We were about to go get lunch when the team leader returned from the meeting.
“Can we gather for a moment before lunch?”
“Yes, sir!!”
Twelve men gathered in the narrow container lodging.
With twelve grown men inside, it looked packed even just sitting there.
He seemed to find it uncomfortable.
“I’ll just tell you the conclusion briefly. I just heard this from the commander on my way back. First, the personnel who went on yesterday’s operation will receive a reward. Promotion bonus points have been approved, and Inbae.”
“Sergeant. Gong Inbae.”
“You and I are getting medals. We’re receiving the Order of Military Merit, Hwarang.”
“Wow~~~~”
“Congratulations.”
“Congratulations, sir.”
“Inbae, this bastard’s military life is set.”
“I guess Inbae’s buying lunch today?”
“Where am I supposed to buy it? Are we going outside the base to eat? In Congo where bullets are flying?”
“…This bastard really can’t say anything right.”
The team members’ congratulations continued.
“As you heard, the guy we caught yesterday is the FNL leader. The investigation is still ongoing, but it seems he entered Congo to form an alliance with other rebels. If they had allied, there would have been greater damage, so the UN was pleased we stopped them in advance. And that tunnel Inbae discovered seems to have been the main base of a trafficking organization. Thanks to that, we were able to stand tall in front of Congo and the UN forces.”
“Oooooh~~~~~~”
“Everyone worked hard yesterday, so rest up today. And Inbae, you didn’t go to the infirmary, did you?”
“I’m fine. It’s all healed now.”
“Shut your mouth and go to the medical unit for treatment. That’s an order.”
“Understood.”
.
.
.
Infirmary.
“So it’s you.”
“Sergeant Gong Inbae. Are you talking about me?”
“The one who got shot. I saw the bandage on your ear, so I figured it was you.”
“I wasn’t shot.”
“They said you took a ghost hit. Come here, let me take a look.”
Today was the first time I learned there was a woman in this unit.
Yun Jihae
Nurse officer of the Guardian Unit.
Captain.
Same rank as our team leader.
As I stood there awkwardly, she approached me instead.
“Sit down. You’re too tall, I can’t see.”
“Understood.”
I sat in the medical chair,
and she peeled off the bandage Staff Sergeant Gwon Jong-o had put on my ear.
“Ah~ it was treated better than I thought. It was a deep wound, but it healed cleanly and was treated well, so it won’t leave a scar.”
“Thank you.”
“I think dressing it will be enough. I’ll dress it for you.”
She picked up a gleaming square tray and sat right next to me, then began treating my ear.
She was so close.
I could feel her breathing, her scent vividly.
Excitement? Nervousness? Attraction? It wasn’t any of those feelings.
It was just a bit uncomfortable.
Maybe because I’d never had an experience like this?
I didn’t know how to act.
“Done. Be careful not to get it wet, and come back tomorrow. It needs dressing.”
“I’m going out on an operation tomorrow, so it might be difficult. Can I come the day after tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow’s operation is one we’re going out on together. So just perform your mission. I’ll change your dressing in between.”
“Yes. Understood. I’ll be going then. Unity.”
.
.
.
It was a mobile hospital operation.
A mobile hospital operation is a civil support service where they visit Congolese people who cannot receive medical benefits
and provide direct medical treatment.
There’s probably no madman who’d attack a doctor who came to treat Congolese people,
…but maybe there could be.
So we have to guard the surroundings and keep watch.
Our team’s mission was perimeter security.
Two of the six guarded the building interior, and four guarded the exterior.
Of course, the exterior is actually the work,
and the interior is basically rest under the guise of security.
So we rotate in two-man teams.
One team patrols the building exterior.
One team controls the entrance.
One team manages and rests inside.
Two hours on the perimeter, one hour resting inside.
The mobile hospital was popular.
An enormous number of people gathered.
To the point of wondering if there were really this many sick people.
But unfortunately, only a handful could be treated there.
Many came due to environmental issues like typhoid, cholera, and tuberculosis.
Illnesses you wouldn’t necessarily get if you ate well and lived in a clean environment,
illnesses you could reduce with preventive vaccines,
but for these people, it wasn’t easy.
Even if they recovered, they never knew when they’d catch it again.
Many also came after traffic accidents, gunshot wounds, or knife wounds, having been unable to receive treatment.
Unfortunately, by the time they arrived at the hospital, many were already beyond help.
They needed surgery, but the mobile hospital couldn’t perform operations.
There were no surgical facilities.
They could only do simple excisions to clean out rotting flesh,
or give painkillers and send them on their way.
The mobile hospital is a one-time treatment, a traveling hospital.
It can’t observe or track patients over a long period.
When we go to the hospital, after treatment
they say come back in three days, in a week. The reason they tell you to come back
is to observe and track the illness’s progression.
They monitor the progress and prescribe accordingly.
But here, after treatment, no one knows when the next treatment will be.
Whether it’ll be a month later, a year later,
or if this is the last time.
Captain Yun Jihae also found it heartbreaking,
but there were limits to what could be done.
And above all, the medical unit is for the deployed soldiers,
not a medical service for Congolese residents.
The roles must not be reversed.
“You go in first. I’ll have a smoke and come.”
“Yes, understood.”
While Staff Sergeant Gwon Jong-o, who was paired with me, smoked, I went inside first.
Ha~ refreshing.
The power of air conditioning, indeed.
“Gong Inbae?”
“Sergeant Gong Inbae.”
“Come here. I have a moment, so I’ll dress it.”
“Yes, understood.”
I came in from perimeter duty and was about to sit down
when Captain Yun Jihae said she’d do the dressing.
She could have done it when I was on duty.
Everything about Congo is bad.
The weather is bad too.
It’s hot.
And when night falls, it’s cold.
I came in to escape the heat, only to get a dressing.
Just as Captain Yun Jihae was about to dress my ear, suddenly there was commotion outside.
“Emergency!!!”
Staff Sergeant Gwon Jong-o, who’d said he was going to smoke, came in carrying a young man on his back.
Twenty years old? No, he didn’t even look that old.
A tall, emaciated man was carried in by Staff Sergeant Gwon Jong-o.
“Lay him here.”
At Captain Yun Jihae’s words, Staff Sergeant Gwon Jong-o carefully laid the young man on the treatment bed.
The young man lying on the bed was in a miserable state.
His body was covered with gunshot wounds, cuts, and signs of violence.
There wasn’t a part of his body without injury.
Bones were broken, skin was peeled away.
It wasn’t an accident.
They were signs of torture.
His breathing was already unstable.
“The person who brought him said it seems he was attacked by rebels.”
Staff Sergeant Gwon Jong-o explained the situation.
Seeing the young man’s state, Captain Yun Jihae seemed to be in shock, unable to say or do anything.
She merely stared at the young man with a trembling body.
“Captain. Captain.”
I called out to her.
But still no reaction.
I grabbed Captain Yun Jihae’s shoulder and shook her.
“Captain. What should we do first? Huh?”
Only then did she seem to come to her senses.
“Uh… first we need to check the wounds. We need to wipe away the blood, I’ll handle this. Please step out for a moment.”
“Yes.”
I couldn’t rest.
I was supposed to rest for an hour. I was kicked out.
The AC only blows over there.
It was a shame, but I was willing to yield on that much.
Because I’m a special forces soldier.
More than anything, perhaps because I was so shocked, my heart was pounding.
Staff Sergeant Gwon Jong-o also looked shocked.
The young man’s appearance was beyond shocking—it was devastating.
His body was torn to shreds.
Rebels recruit children and youths to expand their forces,
and if they resist, they threaten them,
and if that doesn’t work, they torture and kill them, then dump them anywhere.
Gwon Jong-o and I decided to just return to security duty.
What rest?
That was all we could do.
In my heart, I wanted to catch those rebel bastards right now
and kill them,
but we couldn’t.
It would violate UN peacekeeping regulations.
We’re not police.
We have no investigative authority.
If we’d witnessed the scene, we could have stopped it,
but we can’t go around catching criminals.
We’re peacekeepers, not the FBI.
To relieve the helplessness of not being able to do anything here,
useless chatter is the best.
Trudging around the perimeter while making useless small talk seemed better than awkwardly trying to rest.
We deliberately didn’t talk about that young man.
Because our hearts would grow too heavy.
Instead, we talked about the most useless things in the world.
Things we’d seen on YouTube.
That carrots used to be purple.
That pigs can’t see the sky due to their anatomy.
That koala fingerprints are similar to humans’.
That ketchup was once sold as medicine at pharmacies.
We poured out stories completely unnecessary for our lives.
Only then did the helplessness seem to subside a little.
.
.
.
“Gong Inbae, come here. Let’s do that dressing we couldn’t finish earlier.”
“Yes. Understood.”
Captain Yun Jihae had already returned to her usual self.
The ones who couldn’t return to their usual selves were Gwon Jong-o and me.
The cool air conditioning wasn’t very welcome.
The dressing was finished quickly.
After all, it was just one ear.
If it had taken long, that would have been strange.
“It’s all done now. You can take the gauze off tomorrow. You won’t need any further treatment.”
“Thank you.”
“I appreciated what you did earlier.”
“What do you mean?”
“Shaking me and snapping me out of it earlier. If you hadn’t, my mental state... though I’m still not in my right mind as it is.”
“.....”
“Anyway, thank you.... That young man... he’s in a better place now, right?”
Captain Yun Ji-hae spoke calmly, but tears had begun welling in her eyes.
I wasn’t one to press her on it.
Not one to ask about anything.
I simply took the handkerchief from my back pocket and held it out.
.
.
The young man’s body had been handed over to his family.
It had been a foregone conclusion from the moment he arrived.
As I said, there was no operating room here.
Injuries of that severity would have required a university hospital in Seoul to survive.
There was no diagnostic equipment here, no surgical tools, no blood packs, no nurses to assist in surgery.
Only the patient and the doctor.
Easing his pain was all Captain Yun Ji-hae could do.
The family wailed as they received the body.
His younger brother, who looked to be over ten, wore a different expression.
One of firm resolve.
He must be dreaming of revenge.
He was likely vowing revenge on the rebels who had killed his brother.
As a means to that end,
he would probably join another rebel group and cruelly massacre the rebels who had killed his brother.
Then the families of the dead would likewise join rebel groups, committing yet another massacre.
The vicious cycle continued, with no clear way to know where to set it right.
.
.
On the way back to base.
After experiencing today’s events, Congo looked different.
The first day of the operation.
When we discovered the arms trafficking organization and the rebels, it had felt unreal.
Honestly, rebels and arms trafficking are just words.
It’s the kind of story you only see in movies.
Do you have any arms dealers or rebels around you? You don’t.
It had felt completely unreal.
On top of that, I had only done reconnaissance,
and during the arrest operation, I was in an armored vehicle, so it felt even less real.
Just yesterday they were talking about handing out medals.
And then, in just one day—
the unfamiliar country of Congo.
Unfamiliar climate and environment.
Plus rebels and arms trafficking.
With even the reward of medals bursting all at once, I think I had been floating.
But then,
the moment I saw that young man today,
I returned to reality.
Can I carry out my mission properly in Congo as a UN soldier?
Am I really of any help?
What should I do to be of help?
Those thoughts filled my head.
Even so, my gaze remained fixed outside.
Watching in case anything happened.
I’m just doing what I can.
Scanning the surroundings,
patrolling,
reducing risk factors.
That is my job right now.