Grinning Army Maker (1)
Do you happen to know about an incident that occurred in 1921?
I didn't know a single thing. It's not like I'm some kind of freak memorizing world history timelines.
This is all because I didn't get a status window. Would it kill them to at least give me something like nanomachines or a future AI?
Charlie Chaplin released a new film called The Kid and it became a massive hit. The only Chaplin movies I knew were Modern Times and The Great Dictator, but when I went to see it with the family, it was actually pretty fun.
The fact that I could go watch a 1920s film and still enjoy it made me understand why he's revered as a great entertainer even by later generations. It's just a shame I couldn't invest in it.
I didn't have enough future knowledge to recklessly jump into Hollywood, and it's not like I had cash overflowing either. If anything, it felt more important to steadily accumulate gold in preparation for the Great Depression.
As for entering Hollywood, I was starting to think it might actually be better to move in slowly—maybe even after the Great Depression, when everyone's funds had completely dried up.
Meanwhile, after the twisted bastard child born of Woodrow Wilson—the Treaty of Versailles—was laid bare, Europe started getting soaked in blood again instead of peace.
German war reparations fixed at 132 billion marks!
Britain and the United States wanted to keep Germany alive and breathing so it could remain a long-term trading partner, but France wasn't having any of that.
France's goal was clear:
To crush Germany so thoroughly that it would never again dare speak of war or European hegemony.
From my perspective, that was a terrible idea, but the French pushed through with their vengeance anyway. Considering how many people had died in the trenches, it would've been stranger if they weren't burning for revenge.
Then came countless swarms of piranhas, each trying to tear off even a scrap of Germany's flesh—and I managed to grab a few bites myself in the chaos. Patents are precious, you know.
Since I was a soldier, it wasn't exactly easy for me to go all the way to Europe and enjoy a nice "meal" in a country where I didn't even speak the language. So in the end, it was decided that our dear Chairman Ford would secure the interests he wanted in Germany, and pay me my share from that.
And the money I earned like that? It went straight into the acquisition battle for the Dodge Company and new car development.
Unlike Chairman Ford, who was obsessed with maximizing cost efficiency through single-model mass production, his son Edsel Ford and I shared the same goal: diversification. I was sick of the Model T—how long were we supposed to keep digging the same well forever?
Edsel Ford was also more interested in expanding into other ventures rather than acting as a puppet CEO under his father. Now he was even reaching for Dodge, known for trucks and commercial vehicles, and Lincoln, famous for luxury cars.
Could we release the Mustang earlier than in the original timeline? It would probably end up being something completely different that just borrowed the name due to technological limitations… but I had no intention of handing the market over to GM so easily.
Automobiles are the ultimate industry when it comes to guaranteeing massive employment. If we wanted to create more jobs for our family across California—especially around San Francisco—we needed to produce not just passenger cars, but trucks and anything else we could. And once we gathered enough capital, we should move into shipbuilding too—the golden goose of job creation.
The Irish War of Independence reached its peak, with British soldiers dying constantly—and Irish people being massacred by the British in numbers dozens or hundreds of times greater.
The countries newly established after World War I—Poland, Czechoslovakia, Hungary—were all enthusiastically beating each other up over border disputes. You'd think the Great War hadn't even ended.
Communists and anarchists spread across the world, and while the United States was stabilizing, they were doing their best day and night to spread red revolution—assassinating the Spanish prime minister and so on.
It truly was an incredible era. A time when people casually grabbed pistols or bombs and went out to kill others whenever they felt like it!
It sounds ridiculous coming from someone from the 21st century, but honestly, the duels that Patton and his friends loved so much seem more gentlemanly. At least in a duel, if you get shot, you don't feel cheated.
The Soviet Union—the supreme leader of those reds—invaded Georgia, which we're more familiar with as "Gruzia."
It seemed like the Red Scare might flare up again, but the reaction was surprisingly muted. Americans, as usual, didn't even know where Georgia was, and some even went, "Oh, that place? Wasn't it originally Russian territory?"—busy hypnotizing themselves into thinking it was no big deal.
And I got promoted to the rank of Major.
I hadn't even spent a full year at Leavenworth, and they promoted me with military precision.
I'm not happy about it. No matter how I look at it, it feels like they can't really use me as a field-grade officer yet, so they're just hastily slapping the rank on me!
Since I reported to the War Department, I figured I should at least show my face to Marshall. Pershing was just a bonus—Marshall mattered much more to me. Please, think kindly of me.
"Did you know? You were originally scheduled to join the Siberian Expeditionary Force."
"What? Why me? I was busy getting thrown around in the Meuse-Argonne at the time."
"After that. After Germany surrendered. There were frequent conflicts with the Japanese troops stationed in Siberia, and quite a few people suggested sending Yujin Kim."
That sent chills down my spine.
So while I was in the middle of trying to cut off Wilson's head—pulling out the Hell-Slaying Blade from Syngman Rhee's throat—I almost got shipped off to Siberia?
As expected, the darkness of the United States runs deep.
Wilson didn't bring up "you go to Japan" for no reason. The plan must've been to send me to Siberia, have me get acquainted with the Japanese, and then, instead of returning, promote me further and assign me to Tokyo.
There was no refusing or dodging that. If it happened, it was game over. A perfect trap.
The one who cut that off midway, as expected, was none other than the god—Pershing.
"I understand the intention of providing broader experience to a promising young officer. It is also quite unfortunate to return Brigadier General Kim to a junior rank.
However, if another general were suddenly assigned under command, how awkward would that be for General Graves, who is already in Siberia? Moreover, sending Brigadier General Kim to a place where circumstances are already difficult might send the wrong signal to those who envy him."
I apologize for calling you an old man getting uglier with age. I will bow my head and devote myself loyally.
From Pershing's perspective, it must've looked absurd to suddenly throw a general from the American Expeditionary Forces to the other side of the planet. Still, that's one thing—and the fact that I benefited from it is another.
But seeing my expression stiffen, Marshall seemed to have a completely different thought.
"Indeed, if you had been deployed back then, your rank would probably be higher than it is now. You might feel some regret."
No, damn it, is rank really the issue?
It's Siberia. Siberia.
I'm not some lunatic obsessed with promotions, nor am I a pervert who'd be shivering in a Siberian blizzard going, "Hehe, promotion, promotion." And I'd have to deal with the Japs there too? Worst case, military attaché in Tokyo? Yeah, no thanks. I'd rather quit this game—report me if you don't like it.
Just hearing that my fate had almost been flipped upside down without me even knowing made me feel dizzy. This is exactly why people need to diligently play politics.
I should send General Pershing a gift next Easter or something. Isn't it a Korean specialty to build goodwill and favor through exchanging tuna cans?
Marshall didn't know about the behind-the-scenes power struggle that had taken place, so he was regretting that I had missed a good opportunity—but if I'd gone there, I'd have been completely screwed.
"If I had gone, I would've ended up in a much more difficult position."
"Sure, it might've been difficult for a while. But a general is still a general. Do you not realize how significant it is to keep your star during a time of military downsizing like this?"
"I might've had to take off the uniform even sooner. Rank is something I can climb step by step anyway."
"You're too laid-back for your own good."
Me, laid-back? If Syngman Rhee heard that, he'd laugh himself into appendicitis.
"I hear you've been working on tanks and Pacific matters at Leavenworth these days."
"Well, work is work, isn't it?"
"I think it'd be better if you focused on one side. They're not exactly a natural combination, are they?"
Well, that's true.
Where would you even wage tank warfare in the Pacific? Unless I got deployed to China and fought grand steel battles across the continent, there wasn't much reason for a "tank expert" to be in the Pacific.
That's why I'd been hurriedly trying to prove I'd be useful in the Pacific as well.
"Personally, I'd prefer you to invest more time and effort into the armored side."
But that seemed to be exactly what Marshall was dissatisfied with.
"As long as you serve in the Army, you understand that Asia is ultimately secondary, don't you?"
"Well… that's true, but wouldn't it be better to be good at everything? Haha."
"Don't laugh. Get serious."
Yes, sir.
"If you're so eager to play around on some tiny Pacific island or in a jungle, then just transfer to the Marines! That'd be refreshing. Getting rid of one useless fool would really clear my mind."
"Why are you suddenly so irritated?"
"You think I don't have reason to be irritated?! There's work piled up everywhere, and while that's the case, some fool keeps poking around here and there—so all sorts of people are coming to Pershing and even to me because they want you!"
Ah, I messed up.
I don't know which idiot lit the fuse on Marshall's dynamite, but it was already burning fiercely.
"You said there would be another great war in Europe."
"Don't make it sound so grand—calling it a prediction. It was just a slip of the tongue."
"Ordinary people don't say things like that at all. Just be quiet and listen."
Yes, sir.
"The Great War—just as you said, even after World War I ended, the sound of gunfire in Europe hasn't stopped.
The only reason the Germans didn't decide on war after seeing the reparations is because their country is in chaos. If a strong leader emerges and stabilizes Germany, he will tear up the Treaty of Versailles and seek revenge sooner or later."
Did you see the future or something?
Hearing Marshall speak, I couldn't help but picture a mustached dictator shouting about Lebensraum with a swastika behind him.
If someone said that a one-ball corporal from Bohemia would start World War II, that would be a prophecy without question.
But Marshall was presenting a conclusion based on precise reasoning and rational logic.
That someone like a knight on a white horse would rise from that wrecked Germany, backed by the will of the entire nation, and raise the banner of revenge.
"You're right. War in Europe is inevitable."
"..."
"And yet, the one who understands that better than anyone is saying what? Asia? Pacific? Are you insane? If you say something like that, you have to take responsibility! Whether it's democracy or the interests of the United States—if war breaks out again in Europe, who would be the most suitable person to send there?"
"...George Marshall?"
"Stop talking nonsense. You need to go to Europe. Remember—those who see further also bear greater responsibility."
No matter how I looked at it, Marshall's face clearly said, "If you bring up Japan one more time and argue with me, I'll turn you into a dragoon." I was about to lose all my limbs and become one.
Did I push it too far?
All I wanted was to build connections and have a comfortable military life, but my big mouth had snowballed into something unstoppable.
"Once you finish your year at Leavenworth, you'll receive your next assignment."
"Have you heard anything about it?"
"Well… like I said, there are so many places that want you. Maybe you'll end up split into three—Yu, Jin, and Kim—and sent everywhere."
Marshall said it jokingly with a smirk, but that made it even scarier.
He patted my shoulder as if to reassure me.
"I'll do my best to make sure that doesn't happen."
"As expected! I trust you—thank you!"
"I'll stitch things together nicely and send you to Europe."
…I miss my mom.
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