Dear Esteemed Ministry of Defense,
We remain ever vigilant in the high mountain fog, standing guard where the trees are silent and the wind never sleeps.
At least, that’s what we’ve been told.
For years, we believed we were the first line of defense against a ruthless, invisible enemy just over the ridge. We watched. We waited. We even practiced hand signals for ambush scenarios involving sheep.
But something unexpected happened: we ran out of shoelaces.
And as fate would have it, one of our empty food tins—cleverly tossed over the ridge in frustration—returned the next day. Inside: a single, well-wrapped pair of sturdy, foreign-made laces.
And a note: "You dropped this. Nice aim. Want to trade for dried mushrooms?"
Since then, a quiet exchange has begun. Laces for kimchi. Socks for soap. No names, no questions—just two sets of soldiers, once sworn enemies, now bound by necessity… and slightly warmer feet.
We still report in daily, of course. We salute. We recite. But at night, under the stars, we hang our laundry like flags of a forgotten truce—and laugh.
So yes, we are still guarding something.
But these days, it’s mostly friendship. And, occasionally, the border against hungry raccoons.
With enduring loyalty (and considerably better footwear),
Private Tae-won & Private Ji-ho
Mountain Logistics Unit (Unofficial Shoelace Diplomacy Division)
Private Tae-won
Ministry of Defense
