Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4567 | Page 24

“What a surprise! My sister just moved her base to WuHan. I guess our alliance was a little contrived, maybe our ideals
don’t quite match with theirs just yet.” Madam Song was pensive. “I wonder what your ideals are like in America?”
“We certainly aren’t as generous to our opponent as you are. We tried to shoot down the planes that bombed us at Pearl
Harbour instead of treating them with kindness. You know, in America, they say “Everyman for himself.” It’s the
fundamental force that drives our society forward... I guess it lacks kindness and compassion.”
“Here in Communist China, our principles are based upon sharing and caring. However in practice, we can’t quite get the
reality to fall in line with our ideals. Corruption is rampant, people think only about themselves even as we preach
Confucian values for the greater good. I guess when you work hard but get the same amount as the guy next door who
slouches around all day, there has to be a strong sense of nationalism and pride for you to continue working hard. I once
considered forcing everyone to work hard for the common good through brainwashing, but I wasn’t sure that using an
immoral method to achieve a moral goal would be true to my principles, so I’m still trying out other options.”
“In the army, we are bombing our enemies and fighting other human beings to protect the ones we love and no one seems
to have a problem with that.” I replied.
“But no one having a problem with it doesn’t mean that it is the right thing to do. No one in the Nazi Party has
complained about the slaughtering of thousands of Jews in Poland, but that doesn’t justify their actions,” Madam Song said
in her soft but firm voice. I had no response to that. “It was my pleasure talking to you, Captain John, but I have to attend
to the other patients too. We will be sending a jeep to pick you up and deliver you back to KuoMinTang barracks. Best of
luck to you, Captain John and may God be with you.”
“Good bye Madam Song.” I said reluctantly, remorse welling in my heart as I recalled Arthur’s face smiling at me and the
golden ray of sunshine shining upon the Red Cross hospital flag.
“Oh by the way, say hi to my sister, Mei Ling, and please tell her not to make any more mistakes when she sends her pilots
on a killing mission.”
* * * * *
That was more than three years ago, but tears still well up in my eyes whenever I think of Arthur and I still feel a cringe in
my heart as I recall what great care and compassion Madam Song showed me even after I tried to bomb their hospital.
Pheeeew… Boom! Boom! Boom! People are running onto the streets screaming, I covered my ears.
Pheeew, Boom! Another firework goes off and the flames warm up my face as news of our victory warms the hearts of
these people, people I have come to respect and love, people that I want to help and save, even if I can never bring back
Arthur from his grave. However, with our victory comes our enemy’s defeat. I wonder whether they are celebrating all
over the streets in Japan too? I wonder through killing Japanese pilots, who also fought to protect their loved ones, how
many lives have I made miserable? I wonder, what separates us from them; what separates “good” from “bad”?