Goodbye from Nogunri (A Fictional Account Of The Nogunri Massacre, Korean War)

Goodbye from Nogunri

I looked down at my brother as he rested on my lap. He shivered as he slept. It could have been the chill that
trapped itself in his weary bones, the hunger that refused to subside, the nightmares he'd from now on always know.

He hadn't stolen real sleep in a few days, not since Mother was captured. I stroked his oily hair. The lice squirmed beneath my fingertips. I'd picked out as many as I could along the way but the population still multiplied.

We'd been on the run for about a month now, since the war broke out. It was July 28. We were on our way south to Busan like countless others, to where our sister, Eun-mi, would be waiting.

She'd left Panmunjom with her husband and newborn baby just days before Mother and I fled with Jae-hyun.

The day Eun-mi left she had tearfully bid me farewell in the middle of the night. She had to leave immediately as the army was looking for her husband for his anti-communist affiliations.

"I will wait for my baby sister in Busan," she had promised. "There we will be free. We will build a life together in happiness and freedom." I believed her so deeply. It was that hope that propelled me.

A small moan escaped Jae-hyun's lips. His perfect little face cringed as he dreamed. His bruised eyelids quivered. He was sweating, his skin cold and clammy.

Even as he rested he suffered. It caused me great guilt that it was just the two of us now and I couldn't protect him.

The stillness in the air was intimidating. The screams and cries had at last faded. Occasionally a brave soul would peer outside to see if the soldiers still stood their post.

Everybody who'd left the underpass in an attempt to escape or steal sips of rainwater from puddles was killed. They had us surrounded, armed with their weapons instead of mercy. And not a one of us knew why.

While passing through Yongdong with several other civilians we had run into a group of American troops. One man spoke our language and gave us specific instructions to hide out in Nogunri.

Although we were given no reasons we still listened to those men in their green uniforms and steel on their hips, and found refuge underneath one of two adjoining bridges there.

A few feet from where I sat, an elderly woman stirred from her short slumber. She panicked until the darkness reminded her she was still safe.

After a moment, she noticed my presence. Her eyes were two small anguished orbs in a dirty worn face. The sadness they reflected even in the faint moonlight was so dramatic I had to look away.

The woman inched towards us. Very slowly she removed the dingy green sweater she wore. Judging from her movements, she was in pain. I wasn't sure whether from injury or age.

She lay the article over my brother's small cold body then removed his shoes to rub his feet. He whimpered briefly before fidgeting to a more adequate position as the old woman looked after his comforts.

I watched her maternal ways, grace in her presence. I thought of my own mother and how intensely I missed her, saddened by how I had failed her.

Just as I had failed Father when the men came to arrest him right before the fighting started. They accused him of being a traitor and siding with the north.

When they hauled him away I just stood there like a scared little girl. My whole life he'd defended me- and I just stood there.

The army eventually came for Mother, too, just four days ago. We had found refuge in a village outside of Seoul.

A neighbor stormed into the hut we hid in to warn us the Chinese was sweeping the area. I'd managed to scoop up Jae-hyun and run outside to hide behind a cluster of nearby boulders just in the nick of time.