I own nothing from Hearts of Iron nor the Kaiserriech Mod.
Private Bedros Sahakian
Journal Entry 20
June 26, 1932, Sunday
After attending the chaplain's service and performing my regular duties at base I finally managed to write down my second letter to my family back in Los Angeles. With all that's been happening I lost track until now but still it's not an excuse. Still haven't received any messages from my sister, Nayat. I stand by my choice to join the corps but sure wish we could talk and make amends. We're family after all.
In fact I wouldn't even be alive now if it wasn't for her. Nayat raised me when we were refugees before coming to America. Still remember when we finally reached California. Uncle Samvel, Aunt Elen and all our cousins, Melik, Talin, Arsine and Davit came out to welcome us on the Los Angeles docks. I was nine years old and barely could speak a few words in English at the time and was so nervous.
It felt so surreal meeting my kin at last and they were so patient and kind with me. As long as I live I'll always be grateful for what they did.
Some-point this week I'm going to get some photos of the guys and me here in Shanghai when we have time. Then send it home with the letter. Show the family that I'm doing fine. Of course in the letter I avoided mentioning that standoff on the 15th and what I did at the party at the Cathay Hotel. Aside from that I gladly wrote to them about some of our squad's antics and the people I met here so far.
Also Mr. Guo and Shang discovered today about me being Armenian. The boy didn't know who my people were but Guo was aware of them but not much. So I decided to explain who my people are to Shang, starting with our founder Hayk, who slew the tyrant Bel with an arrow shot. It felt great to tell that legend to folks who are actually interested in it. Shang did like that last part of the tale.
Guo then revealed to me that there is a community of fellow Armenian exiles living here in Shanghai. That was great to hear and so naturally I asked where I could find them. He gave me directions that I wrote for later and encouraged me to seek them out. "A man should not forget his roots, nor those of his blood." He remarked with a hint of regret in his tone.
This week I'll make the time to do so. The folks back home will be thrilled about this revelation.
Journal Entry 21
June 27, 1932, Monday
This afternoon we got some liberty. Our whole squad went out together this time. We caught up with Babkin the Siberian and some of his comrades. After some back and forth with Babkin acting as a translator we headed for the Hongkew gun range for a rematch between him and Robert. They were neck and neck until they both scored bullseye at the final round, surprising all of us.
There were some guys grumbling because bets had been made and now ruined.
Afterwards we headed for this bar that Michail found called the Dragon's Well. It's owned by an old Aussie named Jacob Harper but insists we just call him Harp. He has a crudely made prosthetic limb where his right leg had been. He lost it while serving with the ANZAC's mounted corps on the Middle Eastern front in the last war.
Despite that Harp certainly doesn't lack for jokes or stories about his time growing up in the Bush as he calls it. The UB that he and his Chinese girlfriend serve is great alcohol and the food is not bad either. It was fried chicken, egg rolls and rice balls to be more specific. Believe it or not we had a great time with these Ruskies. We drank and laughed at each other's antics.
I could understand some of what the Ruskies were saying but kept to myself. They just talk about home, themselves and us. Major Suvillian had ordered me since Friday not to reveal to anyone else that I knew Russian or Japanese without his authorization. The less people know about that the better for future intelligence gathering. That's how he puts it and after some thought I understand.
Michail, our very own Hercules, got into an arm wrestling contest with their big guy, Konstantin. Their struggle went on and on until Michail won three out of five. Next Allen tried to outdrink another of them only to pass out and fall off his chair much to our amusement. He can't hold his liquor. We let him sleep it off for a little bit.
Then Babkin's sergeant got an accordion out and played a tune that they call Kalinka while his troops sang it and some even squat danced to the rhythm.
We and most folks at the bar who were now watching clapped in response to their performance. Once Modercai was allowed by Harp to use the piano we played the Marine's Hymn for all in the joint to hear. We're not not choir material but we're proud to be with Cops and sing it loud.
Funny thing is it inspired a couple of merchant sailors from the Sicilian Kingdom to join with their rendition of Santa Lucia. We had to buy their next round of drinks for that. It was that good. Next a Filipino dock worker played his guitar a song that made you think you were walking in a village during a festival or something. Then an Irish reporter who followed, singing the Parting Glass that several of us in the bar who knew it join in.
Finally Harp's wife concluded the whole thing with the song called Mo Li Hua or Jasmine Flower in English as she explains. The lady had our attention with how passionate yet gentle her voice was. It actually brought some folks to tears even though they couldn't understand the words. Maybe it was the drinking earlier but it kinda made me a bit homesick yet hopeful.
After that we paid our tap then went our way. All of us in the squad decided that Dragon's Well will be the bar we go to drink whenever possible.