Kim Huu Tuân's Questionnaire

It is hard to remember where home was. For many of us home was just where the capital was, we would return there for orders or if we aere lucky we could visit there after being injured  for so long. That wasn't the case for me, my home was the military base. Me and my brothers firing our guns to practice our shots against American scum, arranging traps on our front and sleeping in the same bed together. I can't imagine a normal home even if I know that I'm not like most children. That is my home and that is where my heart will stay no matter how long I live. Even if this war ends and my ambition burns away. My home is in that outpost, it is where I belonged 

Preferably new equipment. Money doesn't matter to me all that much, if I can use money to give myself an advantage then I would. Bullets, guns, information, armor. If there is money that can be used for such things then I am more than happy with the result... However if I can't use money to buy anything useful for the field then it is just as valuable as the dirt for me, however even the dirt can be used to blind someone in combat so I suppose the best way to describe how I see money without a purpose is... Good for nothing 

I was taken from my parents for a battle we didn't even start, yet our enemies insist that we are the demons who started the battle despite everything. When in reality they are the ones to blame, the American dogs which come in with their bombs and hellfire which rage across the battlefield. We are not afforded such a luxury, we are disadvantaged to the highest degree yet they show no restraint in burning down our families, destroying our villages. If I could I would go into their country and burn it into ash, I would cause their soldiers to cry for mercy, their diplomats to hide in their bunkers, their citizens to fear me. That is what I want, I would die for my cause but I can't die for it. I won't die for it. I WILL destroy them 

The first time I shot a gun at a real person for the first time and killed them. I was green at the time but when I felt the recoil shoot into my shoulder and heard the gurgle from the dying man's throat as he fell over I felt sick. I could smell the blood coming out from his freshly shot corpse, I could hear his twitching and last breaths as he struggled on the ground desperate to escape. At first I was terrified for what I have done but now I don't think about the blood anymore. Just the recoil 

It is hard to say who I'm close too. I'm not exactly the great friend in the world but there are three people who never would turn their back on me. The first is the nurse who cares for my wounds, she doesn't want me to fight but she still patches me up regardless no matter what injuries I have. She made sure I didn't lose my arm and even if I can barely feel it anymore I eternally feel thankful. The second is my bunkmate, in the barracks we often talked about plans on making a change in the war, new ways to innovate and fight and even had many combat exchanges. I wouldn't be nearly as skilled without him. Finally is my general, he is my leader and the one and only person I follow without question. If he told me jumping into a pit to my death could win the war I wouldn't even think about my death 

I have no formal education of any kind. The main reason for this is because my childhood started in a warfront. From what I recall I was born by a wartime nurse who may have slept around with some of the soldiers. She didn't make to through childbirth, I was raised to fight for the military from an extremely young age. I knew how to fire a gun before I even knew how to write. That wasn't to say I was uneducated, raising someone to fight for a long time doesn't do much if they're stupid. They put me through an officer program to teach me science, mathematics, writing and also culture and history. I am by no means the best at these things but they are skills that were created from this made me ready for the field. I don't need to be like a normal child, I am a man, a soldier 

I have not been in love. My platoons consist of people much older than me and I have felt sdmirairon or attraction to some of the girls I've seen but I knew that I was much too young to have a pursuit like that. I was to be focused on my training and if I survive this war and finally feel satisfied with the fire inside of my soul maybe then I could love again. My reward for my service is my ability to be normal, however I'm not sure if I can be normal anymore. I don't know if I should be normal again