Trail Guide for a Crooked Heart by May Jim;

Author:May, Jim; [May, Jim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Parkhurst Brothers, Incorporated, Publishers

Choosing a Crooked Path

The second, alternative story, presents a hypothetical scenario whereby Gandhi’s non-violent opposition would have been used in the WWII combat theater; how might a soldier like Frederick have responded?

. . . Then orders came to prepare for a possible attack. Frederick opened the throttle, muffled noise and vibration filled the cramped space. Then came an indistinct thump, and then another thump, thump. Thinking there was a break in the tank’s track Frederick stopped the tank and opened the hatch. He stretched himself up into the blue sky and spring sunshine.

There, stretched before the tanks, were hundreds of young, Belgian farmers in overalls. They lay on the ground willing to die, but not to kill for their country. They lay in rows as far as the eye could see in the direct path of the panzers, the core of Belgium’s youth, many of them farmers just like Frederick.

Looking behind him, he saw the bodies of the young men that he, Frederick, and his grand machine, had crushed. Some were still moaning; others eerily silent, lying still next to puddles of blood that soaked into the loamy cropland.

Most of these bodies were dressed in work clothes, much the same as Frederick would have worn at milking time.

From his radio, came the voice of his commanding officer, ordering the panzer division to continue, to move forward into the sea of prostrated bodies. Frederick sat back down at the controls, his hands shaking; he engaged the clutch, the rumbling, bug-like, steel crawler moved ahead: thump . . . thump . . . thump!

Tears streamed down Frederick’s cheeks, he began to vomit. These farmers were of no threat to him. How could his commander, also a farmer, give such orders? He longed for home, for Regina, for his farm, for the calves, and for his tractor.

That night, he climbed out of his tank and disappeared into the woods. He would not fight this fight. He would leave the killing and return to Regina. Somewhere, somehow, he hoped to find them a place.

If the terrible sacrifice by these Belgian youths, the non-violent—though powerful—resistance described here in this story had been widespread, could the German army have maintained its Warrior myth (that these are not human beings that I am killing)? Furthermore, isn’t it true that non-violent resistance renders moot the ethic of kill or be killed?

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