Private Bedros Sahakian

Journal Entry 43

August 4, 1932 Thursday

Work, guard, eat, then more work and finally sleep before starting the whole thing all over again the next day.

The fighting is officially over but it's chaotic all over Shanghai.

You know for a time when first arriving here I treated this assignment like it's exotic adventure right out of the comic books. Got a reality check on July Eighth.

People are dead, more than I can count. Homes and property were reduced to rubble.

Those of us who lived through it, were all marked by the slaughter that consumed these streets.

This city is scarred beyond any words I could write here or think for that matter.

There is a guy in our company named James Alder. He was pretty popular with the ladies during and after training, with his handsome features and quite a smooth talker.

Some in the outfit came to call him Hollywood for those good looks and I think he did kinda enjoy that nickname.

He lived through this mess but was disfigured, losing his nose, chunks of his left ear and half of his jaw is gone now. To top it all off he is also blinded in the left eye.

Poor guy doesn't even know yet with his face mostly wrapped up for now. Who knows how long he'll be in the medical ward.

Then James will be shipped out to Pearl Harbor whenever they're able to. I don't really consider him a friend and we had a pretty bad fight one time before we came to China but that doesn't mean I enjoy his suffering.

Not at all.

What happened to him frightens me in fact. It's not only the disfigurement itself but what it will do to the man's mind when he finds out.

Many soldiers in the Weltkrieg suffered that. Hopefully the treatments have gotten better.

It's hard to make sense of the recent carnage we suffered and wrought on others in return.

There are times I get lost in these horrid memories and images of all we went through. They besiege my mind, even just a minute ago.

My right hand shakes uncontrollably on occasion whenever I'm resting. Doing stuff helps keep my mind off a lot but you can do so much before those thoughts return.

Some have lost faith while others hold onto it or in a rare case, found it.

I'm one of those in the middle but I don't less think of the others for their different views though we still disagree.

Many siblings disagree on things all the time, so it 's the same with comrades but we still have a code.

You watch my back, I watch yours.

Gad actually talked a lot about something the other day to our squad about something he saw while on sentry duty outside the base. It was a horse that an American officer of the Volunteer Corps was riding.

A brown Mustang apparently. He's usually quiet with most things that I noticed but when it comes to horses well that was a surprise.

Then again Powell lived on a ranch before the Crops and it turns out he became something of a horse trainer and that mustangs are his favorite. He's now determined to get a horse somewhere when things cool off finally

You know it's good to see Gad happy but he is facing an uphill climb trying to convince some of the squad to learn horse riding. I'm willing as is Hector but the others not so much.

Looking out into the city trying to recover I couldn't be but reminded of my time in Alexandra.

My sister is very pious and raised me as such all the back when we're still refugees there.

Of course I found out just going to a church doesn't make a believer though it can point toward the direction. You have to make your own choice about whether to believe in God or not.

That is what an old Danish missionary, Ingrid Johansen taught me when I was only a little urchin that often ran around in those ancient streets. There were times I didn't want to hear it, because the world's cruelty and the loss of most of my family made me question everything.

Even so Ms. Johansen was patient and kind, showing me love like that of a grandmother, helping Nayat to raise me.

It helped that she already knew our language and culture long before. Johansen had a heart for our people and was one of the few outsiders we could truly trust back then.

She always joked about being more gentle than her mighty Viking ancestors. She would tell me and the other refugee children stories about our people's history.

Such as the love between the Frankish King of Jerusalem, Baldwin the Second and his Armenian Queen Morphia during the Crusades. I wasn't one for romance back then but even still their devotion was inspiring to learn about.

Ms. Johansen is the reason why Nayat and I were able to go to America in the first place, without asking for any reward.

I'll never be able to repay my debt to Ms. Johansen for all she did for us back then and the example she gave. Sadly though I learned a few years ago that she passed away, surrounded by the orphans she was taking care of until the end.

Sometimes I can see her, an old thin lady in an old light colored dress that came out of the nineteenth century riding her bike that she held so dear. She would pass by and wave with a warm smile.

Later Ms. Johansen taught me how to ride bikes. Must admit I fell a lot during those sessions but each time she helped me up and I would try again, again and again till getting the hang of it.

I learned from Shang that he actually doesn't know how to ride a bike. It took some convincing but he's now willing to learn.

Just need to find a bike for him and the time. The boy took the opportunity to remind me that I'll be helping him find his friend.

The thing is though he won't say who this friend is actually and got defensive when I tried to press the matter one time. Despite my questions I'll still help.

Shang saved our platoon and delivered my message to Sachi after all.

Hopefully we can find this person alive because anything goes here in Shanghai.