BXBX NOVEL Chapter 26: Progress
Chapter 26: Progress
When the two first truly conversed, Renly posed this question. At that time, Tim simply smiled, didn\'t answer, and shifted the conversation to other topics. Renly could sense Tim\'s reluctance to elaborate. Before leaving San Diego, Renly brought up the same question again. Tim\'s expression was complex, he didn\'t immediately answer, nor did he dismiss it. Instead, he paused for a long time, about the time it took to smoke half a cigarette, before replying, "I don\'t know."
I don\'t know.
That was Tim\'s answer, from a veteran who had been to the battlefield twice. During the filming of "The Pacific," Renly kept pondering this question. Not only because it was the answer Eugene was seeking, but also a question Renly himself was exploring.
For some, war is glory. Like Renly and Rami, being wounded is a medal, symbolizing their baptism by blood and fire, signifying their laughter amidst the grueling struggle, and representing their growth and transformation, shedding all pretense.
For some, war is heroism. Like the words in "Band of Brothers," "I\'m not a hero, but I fought alongside heroes." The camaraderie among brothers, supporting each other, covering for each other, surviving on the brink of death, winning against all odds, stirring the blood, and inspiring others to follow.
For some, war is death. Like the bodies strewn across the battlefield, enemy, ally, and innocent civilians alike, lives extinguished, reduced to mere numbers, with no one remembering the true meaning behind those digits. Life seems to lose its significance here, even for those who survive.
For some, war is profit. Like the real-life war hero John Basilone, while his comrades fought and died on the battlefield every day, he remained stateside, profiting from the war economy, selling war bonds, and enjoying the favors of women, all reduced to a string of numbers on Wall Street.
But why did Tim say "I don\'t know"? Why?
He saw soldiers losing their sanity from killing too many Japanese, sitting blankly and counting, seeing all their comrades as enemies. He witnessed soldiers from the same company screaming in the dead of night from nightmares, gradually losing control. To avoid revealing their position, they had to execute their comrade, who would forever sleep in his nightmares.
He narrowly escaped death from a Japanese bomb, only to engage the enemy bare-handed. When the dagger pierced the enemy\'s abdomen, hot blood covered his hands. He traversed through the hail of bullets, rescuing wounded comrades on stretchers, only for their life to be cut short by shrapnel from an airstrike.
He captured a Japanese soldier, only to find out he was just a teenager, trembling in surrender. This made him lower his gun, but his comrades turned the boy into a target to bet on whose aim was more accurate. He watched innocent locals used as human bombs, crying for help as they infiltrated the lines, only for the Japanese to detonate the bomb, causing a chain of casualties.
So, what is war really? Renly thought he understood, or at least believed he would understand after experiencing everything Eugene faced. But months passed, and he found himself more confused than ever.
After Renly asked the question one last time, Tim told a story.
A war photographer went to the streets of Baghdad for material. He walked within the residential area where daily life continued as if the war had not affected much, creating a moment of tranquility. At that moment, a three or four-year-old girl swiftly crossed the street, running towards the ruins ahead. The photographer instinctively raised his camera, aiming at the girl.
Just this action made the girl stop in fear, raising her hands high, looking at the photographer timidly. Dust covered her face, fear evident in her dark eyes, quickly obscured by tears, pleading desperately.
The photographer was stunned. He didn\'t know what he did wrong, quickly comforting the girl. He heard her trembling voice repeatedly murmuring, "Don\'t kill me." She thought the camera was a gun.
"I used to believe that I fought for justice, for glory, for faith, or at least I wanted to believe that. But after seeing that photo... I don\'t know, I really don\'t know." This was Tim\'s last sentence in the exchange with Renly, after which he turned and left, his still straight shoulders carrying a heavy burden.
Renly was puzzled, struggling, more numb and confused than anything else. He didn\'t even have the energy to pursue or contemplate, just continuing to persevere on this land had exhausted him entirely. Sometimes, he didn\'t even think about it. Would it be easier if he just died like this, a final solution? Living had become a torment, with no end in sight, no meaning, no hope, not even faith.
Living, they were only fighting to live. Perhaps it was right, perhaps it was wrong, because maybe "living" itself had no meaning.
Rami could sense the subtle changes in Renly\'s emotions but couldn\'t articulate a reason. Since his return from injury, Renly had become increasingly strange.
It wasn\'t that he affected the filming; on the contrary, Renly\'s shooting went smoothly, his outstanding performances often earning applause from the crew. Not only David, but other directors who joined later praised Renly. But outside of filming, when there were no jokes, Renly would sit quietly, emitting a silent and oppressive aura that even dimmed the sunshine. But every time he was asked, he would return to normal, continuing to joke around with them.
Several times, Rami wanted to talk to Renly, but Renly skillfully avoided it, not giving him a chance to delve deeper, brushing it off lightly. This made Rami more worried.
"Rookie, rookie." Rami called twice in a row but got no response. He had to pat Renly\'s shoulder and saw Renly snap out of it, raising his eyebrows slightly, indicating he heard him. Rami pointed in the direction of the director, "They\'re asking, are you ready?"
Renly nodded, gesturing an "OK" towards the director, then smiled faintly at Rami, "How about you? Are you ready? This scene isn\'t easy."
Rami pushed aside his concerns, smiled, and joked, "You\'re the star of this scene. If you\'re ready, then I\'m fine."
They were currently shooting a crucial scene, nearing the end of filming "The Pacific," with all the weight of the performance accumulating on Renly.
After a series of battles and events, Eugene\'s soul had undergone a transformation, becoming not only indifferent but also callous. In the scenes shot five days ago, Eugene first went mad trying to kill a Japanese prisoner in conflict, only to be warned by the military. Later, he executed the last resisting enemy in a superior manner, despite the ceasefire ordered by his superior.
Today\'s scene was the climax of all emotions.
After enduring a long and arduous battle on Okinawa, the US Army finally achieved victory. However, there were still remnants of small forces resisting stubbornly, so they needed to carefully explore and eliminate all remaining resistance. During the search, Eugene and Merriel heard the crying of a baby from a dilapidated house by the roadside. They cautiously entered and found a surviving baby from a local family, all of his family dead.
Here, Eugene, who had gone mad and had a heart as stagnant as water, was once again touched. The final sublimation of the entire series of "The Pacific" depends on this moment.
Renly withdrew his gaze, quietly watching the bodies before him, resembling small mountains. He knew they were all extras; he knew the blood and intestines were all props. But at this moment, they all entered a state of performance, as if they were real corpses. This calmed Renly\'s mind, standing silently in place, as if time had frozen in this moment.
Death, he had seen too much death, so much so that when he received a letter from home saying that Deacon had died, he remained indifferent. He just sat there blankly, pondering what "Deacon died" really meant, but found no answers. It seemed death held no meaning anymore, just a state. More ironically, his body and face were covered in bloodstains, and even he couldn\'t calculate how many lives had ended by his hands. He himself was like a wandering soul crawling out of a pile of corpses.
However, looking at the baby wailing before him, he was somewhat stunned.
The connection between birth and death constituted a cycle. In the clear and loud cries, there was a hint of impatience, but no fear. It was just urgency, complaints, and cries, calling for someone to change his diaper or to feed his hungry stomach. It was so simple, so natural, so straightforward. Surrounded by death, yet nurturing hope. The cycle of life was unfolding right before his eyes.
"Action!" The director\'s voice came from the distant horizon as if it were the command of God.
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A/N: The photo of a girl raising her hands thinking that the camera was a gun is from a Syrian refugee camp, not from Baghdad and it was taken in 2015. So I don\'t how Tim saw this photo. But even if factually incorrect it still does not reduce the emotional impact.