A lot of people on this thread talk about religious and moral beliefs.
Just the notion of "defense" is worthy of a long and tea-filled philosophical discussion, although the antis would apparently take advantage and say that you should never defend yourself against someone who is attacking you.
Many Christians would have mixed beliefs about killing in self defense, I myself have heard of the cops who felt bad afterward even though the guy they killed was a hardened criminal. However, let's see it in a "opposing view" attitude. If you don't respond on an assailant and he/she kills you, there will be serious consequences on YOUR side. Your friends, family, etc....... would be devastated. And plus countless other things. However, if you end up killing the assailant, even though it is still the taking a life, you were JUSTIFIED to do, because his/her attack was uncalled for, and you were basically responding. There are many uber-liberals who say that they rather die in a criminal attack and be mourned as a victim afterward rather than standing up to fight and possibly neutralizing the threat right there. I don't understand how these minds function, with these types of thoughts.
My Grand-uncle was a soldier in the Chinese 8th Route Army during the Anti Japanese War (World War II), and combat in China, especially in the northeastern provinces, Shanxi, Manchuria, Shaanxi, and Yu'nan was especially brutal. Each 8th Route Army soldier was armed with a rifle, grenades, and a Da Dao (wide bladed broadsword)
The idea of close range combat was to use the grenades first, to kill a certain amount of the enemy, and while the rest were still dazed and suffering from concussion and confusion as a result of the blasts, the Chinese would charge in with their broadswords and finish the fight right there.
In 1943, right after a ferocious battle in the Taiyuan Pass, my grand-uncle came upon a young boy, no more than 16, who wore a blood drenched uniform and carried a blood drenched sword. They struck up a conversation, and soon, they went to sit in a shell-crater, sipping on a flagon of captured Japanese wine. The 16 year old's story was that when he was 8 years old, in 1934, the Japanese troops entered Manchuria and made it an independant country, with former Qing emperor Puyi as a puppet dictator. During the chaos, Japanese troops murdered over 100,000 civilians. They would drive entire towns out of their homes, herd them onto a desolate plain, and then tell them to "run, escape!" When they did, Japanese cavalrymen armed with katanas went in after them and killed every single one of them. The young boy was only one of those whose families and communities were sent out to be killed, for "cavalry practice", as to speak by the Japanese army. When the terrified civilians were told to flee, his eldest sister shielded him with her body as they ran. His parents, uncles, other sisters and brothers were all cut down, one after another. He said he could hear their screams, and the slash and rip of the Japaneses' swords, but his sister wouldn't let him be seen. When a Japanese cavalryman came up right behind her and cut her down, she fell, covering him and bringing him down to the ground as she did. Therefore, the killer didn't realize someone else was still alive beneath the one he just killed.
The sword strike that felled his eldest sister also cut into him too, right around his hips and only a few inches away from his liver. That night, he spent just huddled, numb with pain and fear under the body of his sister. His wound bled profusely, and by daybreak, wolves had decended on the killing ground and began to feast on the bodies, drawn by the scent of death and blood. When he came out again, he was almost fainting from the loss of blood, as he walked around, he saw the bodies of his entire family, sprawled around the bodies of the other townfolk.
The little boy finally passed out after wandering towards the general direction of his hometown for a day, and was found by a Manchu sheepherder, who took him in. He and his wife nursed him back to health. However, as much as they wanted him to stay with them, he wanted to go back home. But home was already burned to the ground and everybody slaughtered.
The kind Manchu herding family gave him some money and cornmeal and sent him on his way, soon, he came upon a rail station in Anshan. A crowded and bustling place, packed with passengers, tramps, drunks, opium addicts, deserters from the Guomingdang (Nationalist) Army, and Japanese agents. He bought a train ticket, not caring where it would take him. While he was waiting for the train however, he saw a Guomingdang soldier sprawled on a bench, obviously stone drunk and snoring, vomit all over his uniform and an empty wine kettle next to him. The man had nobody next to him apparently, and everybody else in the waiting room was either passed out drunk, or muttering incomprehensibly. He walked up to the soldier, and took his pistol from his belt. A Mauser C-96 carbine. Quickly, he took the gun and packed it into his own bedroll, careful that nobody spotted him.
When the train finally came, he got on board. It was a train to Bei'Ping, the capital city, and during the 3 day ride, he was almost caught by Guomingdang police who came aboard the train while it stopped to take on coal and water to search the passengers. The Guomingdang police collaborated with the Japanese occupiers to stamp out civilian resistance, and they came onto the train to look for weapons, Communist literature, and possibly to exchange secret messages with agents that were on the train already. The boy hid his bag and bedroll, with gun and ammunition, right under another seat that had a baby in a cradle. The bag fit right next to the cradle, so when the Guomingdang agents came over, they figured that it belonged to the child's mother. Although if they decided to pick it up and feel it, they would obviously realize that it contained a gun.
After this close call, he arrived in Beiping unharmed.
Days later, after living as a beggar and wanderer, the boy left the city for the mountains of the Northwest, which were also filled with Japanese troops. For 2 days, he ate wild mushrooms, roots, and berries, traveling by night, hiding by day. During the 3rd day, however, a Japanese detachment was making it's way down the mountain pass. A small band of about 13 men, all carrying bayoneted Arisakas. The commander of the detachment was heading staright for the boy's hiding place, even though he had no knowledge of his existence. "Yi, Ni, San!, Yi Ni, San! Yi, Ni, San!", screamed the commander.
The boy was torn between running and burrowing deeper into the trees, hoping they would march right past him, but he was suddenly seized with a burning anger, Anger at his entire family being massacred by these same invaders. When the detachment passed within 20 yards of his hole, he took out the Mauser, aimed, and shot the Japanese commander through the chest. The detachment, perhaps a scrounging unit, didn't anticipate somehting like this, and as the commander went down, all of the other soldiers stood, seized by momentary panic. The second was all he needed, because right after he shot the officer, he fired again, and again, and again, killing 9 soldiers outright before the Mauser ran out of ammunition.
The remaining troops, seeing what has become of their comrades, probably thought that they were being ambushed by a guerrilla unit, and fled back up the mountain, leaving their dead behind.
The boy, momentarily horrified by what he done, fled further northwest, not stopping until darkness fell again. Soon, he felt nothing but more bitter anger, wanting to kill more enemies, the enemies who wiped out so many countless villages and killed so many people.
Several nights later, he fell asleep under a huge overturned tree, when voices awakened him. He saw, in the darkness, lanterns and torches, flames illuminating the night. For a terrifying second, he thought they were Japanese, and he was about to be caught with an unloaded gun. Even though there were two stripper clips of ammunition remaining, he hadn't found out how to reload the thing. But after a minute, he realized that the voices were speaking Chinese. Hundreds of voices suddenly filled the clearing.........
