Only alcohol worked to get rid of them in his mind. Long after Mike and Stuff died, Frank would still turn to look at them when he heard a good joke, as if they were still there.
He wanted to kill as many of the Koreans as he could the smell of blood gave him an appetite.
He had never been a brave young man before, but in Korea after Mike died he was “reckless, lunatic, firing, dodging the scattered parts of men” (98). This morning on the bus the haunting images of Mike thrashing and dying in his arms are filling his head. She was not picky.Ī relief guard joined him one day, and as he approached the girl, she looked up and reached toward his crotch and said something in Korean that sounded like “yum yum.” The soldier blew her away, and only the hand remained.įrank thinks about this often, and decides that the soldier felt more than disgust-he felt tempted, and that is what he had to kill. Almost every day Frank watched the young Korean girl come to the trash to dig through with her fingertips. One day Frank heard a rustling and thought it might be a tiger, but it was a child's hand. There was a cluster of bamboo near the place where they dumped their garbage. Hour after hour Frank watched the quiet village below. What is worst is solitary guard duty, combating the boredom and the fear of someone coming near. Korea is impossibly cold, but battle is alive, clear, simple.
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