Tears of Honor
nurse. As soon as his time in the Army was over he planned to marry her, but for now he was finishing his year in the service. He idly batted away a fly as he contemplated the dismantled truck in front of him. He didn’t want to be a mechanic and he didn’t want to be in the motor pool, but it was better than where he started. It was hard to forget that they first wanted to make him a cook. Kim had worked for a while in his father’s store in Los Angeles and then for a Chinese meat dealer, where he helped butcher cattle. All things considered, he figured taking apart a truck wasn’t much different. He couldn’t help but consider the irony of being drafted. When he had tried to volunteer back in 1939, he had been turned away because he was Asian. Kim remembered going in to enlist and the recruiting sergeant who looked him over and laughed. “Boy, the army don’t need no Koreans or China boys. Now if you was Filipino, that’d be different. Them generals and admirals always need good mess stewards. Don’t need no Koreans. You go on home now and work in the store.” But now with the draft they were taking everybody, including him. The incident left a bad taste in his mouth. He felt more sadness than anger at his treatment. He didn’t like feeling different. He was an American, but not a good enough American to be a soldier until they started taking everybody. Kim received his draft notice in January. He was happy just to be in the Army and out of the butcher shop. The first day he put on his uniform he felt like everybody else. He looked like everybody else. But right after basic training he ran into Sgt. “Bull” Durham. As far as Sergeant Durham was concerned, the Army didn’t have a place for Kim as a real soldier. He remembered what Durham told him, “You aren’t like the rest of us. You can be a cook, a clerk, or a mechanic.” It had taken him a moment to realize what “the rest of us” meant. But Kim wanted to be a soldier. He received the best score on the rifle range and was the top of his recruit class. It wasn’t in his nature to give up easily, especially when he thought he was right. “I already told you,” Durham repeated, “You’re going to be a mechanic. We already got enough cooks and clerks anyway.” Kim knew Durham didn’t think Asians could fight. All he wanted was a chance. But right now, all he was going to fight was a carburetor. He carefully folded his letter from Ida. He would read it again later. 18