The Day I Forgot To Hate

A Short Story

Ted Pavloff

(Even though the characters and events in this story
are fictitious, it was born out of my experiences during
combat in the South Pacific Theater during WWII.)

The gray light of dawn was filtering through the dense leafage when we finally pushed our way out of the heavy undergrowth into the small clearing; Corporal Willmet, PFC Conte, and myself. We three made up one of the frequent patrols to probe the eerie stillness of no-mans-land during the bleak hours of night and early morning.

We had sought out this particular clearing many times before (a queer, growth-free patch, isolated in the midst of solid jungle) to comfortably relax with a cigarette and sort out the results of the current trek.

We were a confident trio, and perhaps our gutsy attitude was justified to a certain degree. Encounters with Japanese patrols and snipers were anything but strange adventure, and the fingers of our hands were not ample to count the number of enemy soldiers we had personally annihilated.

The venomous hatred we shared for the Japanese forged us into a natural combination, and we relished every opportunity to satisfy that bitterness by destroying the enemy. We had come to consider the killing of Japs as a sort of game … a release that made the discomforts of war worthwhile.

The usual mixed sounds of the jungle surrounded us this humid morning as we stretched out on the damp turf. There was little reason to suspect approaching danger, and, carelessly, we dismissed the possibility.

Then it happened. They swept out of the jungle from every side and bayonets were pressing against our stomachs before we could touch our weapons. At first I thought it was a nightmare, and it seemed minutes passed before my mind cleared to the realization that I lay at the mercy of the enemy. I should have been terribly frightened, but whatever measure of fear I might have possessed was totally eclipsed by hate, and I could not detect it.

Desperately I wanted to fight back, but there was small profit in inviting certain death. I ordered my companions to lie motionless and hoped the next few moments would bring the break we would need.

I surveyed the Jap soldiers coldly. They were a poorly clad, hungry looking group and, to my eyes, ripe for the sword. The officer in command was extremely youthful looking and clearly the smallest in stature, but his appearance was deceiving.

His orders poured forth with powerful authority, every word emphasized with vigorous motions of his head and arms. The soldiers reacted instantly, and while three bayonets pinned us in a prone position, the remaining troopers hurriedly appropriated the K-rations in our packs.

Then, with a gesture I considered a mocking insult, the young officer tossed several pieces of Japanese currency at my feet, and turned to rejoin his men. It was at this instant he spotted one of his soldiers who had backed off a few paces, raised his rifle, and carefully aimed at my head. With the agility and speed characteristic of the Japs, the officer threw himself at the would-be killer and dropped him heavily to the ground. The hapless offender suffered several solid lashes across his face before he was finally permitted to join his comrades in a hasty retreat from the clearing.

Obviously pleased over the successful display of his prowess, the officer bowed courteously and smiled, then saluted a farewell.

I did not share his satisfaction. The knowledge that my life had been spared for some inconceivable reason was lost in a hatred that made my stomach ache. Vengefully, I hoped for a future meeting … over the sights of my rifle.

During the week that followed we were spared the relentless torture of night patrol, and the day treks were relatively uneventful. Frequently, and often at unexpected moments, I found myself stabbed by spasms of anger that stemmed from the humiliation of having been successfully snared by the enemy. Even though I had not been harmed physically, I stubbornly refused to be grateful. I was furious that I had been captured at all and vowed revenge upon every Jap I could maneuver into firing range.

Revenge was uppermost in my mind that bright afternoon as we trudged through the jungle on a routine patrol. We were advancing in a widely dispersed position, intent upon sweeping as much terrain as possible with a minimum of commotion.

I was advancing slowly in an oblique path toward a peculiar rise of solid rock, when the figure appeared unexpectedly …. I froze. It was a Jap …. Momentarily, I was mystified over his apparent lack of concern about concealing himself, and also the fact that he was unarmed. He was stripped to the waist and the beads of perspiration on his bronze flesh glistened in the bright streaks of sunlight leaking through the heavy foliage. I crouched low as he stepped to a narrow ledge of the rock and looked about him.

Then it hit me like a blockbuster – it was the youthful officer who had captured and humiliated me in the clearing! Ahhh … finally, I thought, we meet again. I gloated silently and promptly began mental preparations to repay a debt I thought to be long overdue. I studied the situation carefully …. I wanted a clean aim. So with unconscious movements of my body, I urged him toward the near edge of the rock.

As if responding to a spoken command, he leaped from the perch and approached a mound of rock directly in my line of vision, then hastily removed a cluster of loose branches and brush from a small hollow in the base of the mound.

I lined up for the kill. I held my breath. Then just as my finger was closing securely around the trigger, my eyes suddenly spotted the crude wooden cross that had been secured in that hollowed out area.

I peered down the long rifle barrel in confused amazement as he dropped to his knees. His right hand raised to his forehead, moved down to his chest, then to his left shoulder, and across to his right – the Sign of The Cross! My hands grew numb and my arms trembled uncontrollably.

I’m not sure exactly how long the moment lasted. But slowly … surely … as surely as I had taken aim at what would have been a sure target, I felt myself lowering that same rifle and letting it slip from my grip. Without any conscious thought, I bowed my head.

I couldn’t account for my reaction. But a miracle had taken place. My fervent, persistent, burning desire to kill the enemy had melted away.

Within a few seconds I relived every detail of the incident in the clearing, when he and his men had captured us, and suddenly the realization hit me: The Jap officer’s actions in preventing my murder and leaving the money were not prompted by secondary motives. This man was a Christian. Painfully, I contrasted these truths with the hatred that fed my incessant drive to destroy the enemy anywhere I found him, and under any circumstances. Tearfully, I surrendered to my shame.

I cannot be certain of the length of time I remained in a state of remorseful meditation, but when I finally raised my eyes, the Cross was again carefully camouflaged, and the officer had vanished. I lingered only a short while. Then I set out to join Willmet and Conte … strangely happy and refreshed … having been set free from the terrible, unbearable burden of hate.

The End


9 thoughts on “The Day I Forgot To Hate

  1. I am so broken…. this came up on my page just as I needed it the most tonight. I have been struggling so very hard with family concerns and issues and am under terrible stress and concern, so this story really helped me put things in perspective and I just wanted to thank you Sandra for adding this story tonight- at this moment when I needed it the very most. It has allowed me to refocus on what is really important and to just let go and let God. I have got to consciously let go of the reigns and allow Him to guide me where He would have me go…. not where I would choose. It was perfect and I plan on re-reading this once again after I hit “submit” with my entry. Thank you Lord for putting people such as Sandra in my life.

    1. Hi, Melody. This is so unusual that you addressed the comment to me. I was checking out something on my dad’s site for him tonight, and this comment came up. I’m guessing you actually responded to the post through where I shared it on my Facebook page. But since you did address it to me, I feel okay in answering it as well. And I just want you to know that I’m so glad it has helped you. I know my dad will be thrilled to learn that it has met a need in your life. He will probably want to reply to your comment as well, but he most likely won’t get a chance to get on here until later Tuesday morning.

      God bless you richly. I will be praying that you receive miracles to resolve the issues you’re struggling with. Sandra

      1. Thank you for the prayer. I most certainly can use it at this time in my life. These days really seem to be the days of my being stuck “in the valley” instead of on the mountaintop where we all ‘prefer’ to be. But… we know that in real life situations, we can’t be living on the mountaintop all of the time. I just keep telling myself that even though I know I have to walk through trials and tribulations, I don’t have to do it alone, because He promised me He would always walk with me and never let me be alone in my situations.

        Sometimes, though… even with those promises, the nights are especially long, and that seems to be when the enemy attacks me with even more vengenance and hate and sleep seems to elude me. Tonight I am going to just pray that God take this weight of worry and difficult bag of emotions and just leave me with peaceful sleep… and that I can be refreshed and ready to deal with it all after a good night’s rest.

        I am throughally exhausted however, and I am going to make a serious attempt at trying to sleep once again. Again, I just thought I would let you know how much I appreciate you. I think that you may be the only person who is praying for me right now, and to know that someone thinks enough of me to mention me in their prayers is especially touching and appreciated more than you may know.

        Sincerely –

    2. Just read your comment. It thrills me to know that my short story, “The Day I Forgot to Hate”, has so positively touched your life. This was the point in my writing it some years ago. As a Marine veteran of World War II, being in the jungle set the perfect stage for this story. You are in my and my wife’s prayers as well. And God WILL meet your every need and bring you to total victory. Blessings, Ted

  2. Wow, please excuse my poor spelling. I mispelled several words in my last post, but I didn’t double-check my own post before hitting ‘submit’ and I am my own world’s worst critic. (My father was a school teacher and was extremely particular about misspelling words, punctuation, etc.) and I suppose it has rubbed off on me. lol Ok…. with having said that, NOW I am done. :p

    1. I’m so glad it blessed you. I wrote the story many years ago, but the experiences of that fateful time in the South Pacific are still very fresh in my memory. Thank you for taking the time to let me know you enjoyed it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s