Another Battle for the Wolf – Some Things Never Change
Didn't someone once say that the more things change the more they stay the same? And so it is with these young recruits, who have yet to taste a battle. I shake my head in disgust. Didn't any of them listen to their father's tales about what things were like at the end of the Bakumatsu? Didn't any of them hear of the Battles at Toba Fushimi and Aizu that were fought during the Boshin War? If they had, certainly they would have more respect for the task at hand, and not flaunt their cavalier attitudes so openly.
I hear their chatter, their words of bravado, the boasting of what brave deeds they will do. I have heard it all before. It reminds me of another time, another place and another group of young men who were yet to be tested and refined by the grim realities of war. It was many years ago, but the memories are etched into my mind as if it were only yesterday. I don't remember having such a flippant attitude, myself, but many of my comrades did, but not for long. They changed their tune quickly thanks to the first skirmishes we fought.
I know exactly what is going to happen to this bunch at the drawing of first blood. Some of them will faint, some will empty the contents of their gut, and others will die. Some will actually find the courage and will to fulfill their duty and fight until victory is achieved by one side or the other. Most of these young men have never killed. They have no idea what it feels like, looks like, or smells like to be drenched in your own blood, or that of your enemy. They have no idea the respect for life that develops after surviving a particularly intense battle. Of course these days, the battles are not as bloody as they were in my younger days. A bullet kills efficiently, leaving only a small hole in the flesh; it is nothing like the wound left by the slash of a katana; it is nothing like watching a head roll.
War is never glorious. It is messy, bloody, and dirty, but very often necessary. People die, both warriors and civilians alike. How many of these young morons will board the ship to return to Tokyo with us when this business is finished? I'd be willing to wager that those that do will no longer swagger and boast. Having to kill seems to instill a greater respect for life. It almost seems like a contradiction, but I have found it to be true.
I've often been referred to as a cold blooded killer. Nothing could be further from the truth. I only kill to eliminate evil from our society. I have to admit that I do enjoy the hunt almost as much as removing the source of the evil itself. I have killed without regret, but only to protect innocent people and apply justice to those who deserve it.
The docks here at the Port of Saganoseki are a beehive of activity, crowded with all manner of wagons and teams, and men milling about. We made landfall here in northern Kyushuu a few days ago and the task of unloading supplies is in full swing. This place definitely has the feel of an army on the move. Side arms, rifles, and rucksacks containing the men's personal supplies were issued to each combatant before they left the ship. Some of us still wear katana, a weapon that many warriors these days feel has reached obsolescence. I'm not one who shares that opinion. Mine has kept me alive many a day, and I will continue to depend on it to save my life, if the need arises.
It takes a great deal of supplies to support an army on the move. Saigō has an advantage over us. His home is here in Satsuma. He doesn't have to haul his supplies from a great distance. Since this is the land of his clan, the local people will gladly supply him with what he needs. In addition, a man who is fighting for the life of his homeland is a much more dedicated soldier than one who fights only because he receives a paycheck for his efforts.
Saigo Takamori will be defeated. He must be for the sake of our nation. It was only nine short years ago that another conflict ripped our country apart, tearing at its very soul. Our collective way of life has changed since then, and in my opinion those changes have not always been for the better. Too many old ways and traditions were carelessly discarded or thrown aside so that Meiji could embrace all that was foreign.
However, rather than turning my back on my country, something which I could never do, I joined my former enemy, seeking employment in a branch of the new government, so I could work from within, keeping my eye on things, making sure there is no fertile ground from which corruption can spring. I'm now in a good position to deal with potentially threatening issues before they become a problem, nipping them off before they can sprout and grow.
There have been times of conflict in Japan, such as the one that lies before us now, where battles are fought to rid our land of a pestilence that is eating at its core, threatening our very existence and life as we know it. I will continue to kill, even after this war is over, but only when necessary, and only to rid my world of evil, for there is all manner of evil lurking in the streets these days.
I flip through the documents in my hands. They are the shipping manifests for the cargo we carried with us. It seems that regardless of where I am, I cannot spare myself of my own personal scourge, paperwork. Sighing, I spot one of my men. Calling him over, I shove the sheaf of papers into his hands, giving him instructions to find everything on the list and make sure it was taken from the ship's hold and loaded onto one of the wagons. The sooner this is done, the sooner we can begin our march. Before I get some lunch, I tell him to find a few more men to help him with the task. Otherwise, we'll be here for another half day.
Although I'm hungry, I doubt if I will enjoy the food I find, because no one can make soba like Tokio.