Like myself, the men in our kauhale took pride in saying that we fought alongside Koamalu in many campaigns against our enemies.
He could grab someone by the legs and split them in two with his bare hands. With any weapon in his hands, Koamalu hewed a man as if that man was like bath water. Once, when our fleet landed on the sands at Poipu, Koamalu picked up a canoe over his head and threw it on top of the rushing enemy army, thus not only slowing them down but causing most of them to scatter in a panic. His deeds inspired many of us to victory, and even those mortally wounded promised Koamalu that they would praise his name to the gods at Kānehūnāmoku. Our paramount ali'i gave Koamalu lands with rich soil that would bring life to him and his ohana for years to come, and with that came wives and an elevation of his status. His lands he apportioned to most of us, his trusted companions in battle. Of his wives, he took none but instead made an introduction of them to us so that we would have families worthy of bringing life to the lands he gave us. As for what he gave himself, Koamalu resided in a cave high up in the mountains, where he lived in solitude. Everything he needed was there, and whatever he needed from the sea, he would travel to the shores to ask permission from the kanaka lawai'a to fish in their waters or to share fish with him from their loko i'a. Those who lived off the ocean were always amazed at how humble the great Koamalu was and that he was mindful enough to bring food from the mountains, which he grew himself, to trade for what he might need from their waters.He was especially kind to keiki and kupuna. In one battle on Maui, a small regiment of elderly men armed with spears and other hand-held weapons appeared on the field. They'd formed a small detail shaped like a crab claw, a Kahului battle formation. Refusing to lift a spear to the aged men, Koamalu fell to the dirt on his knees and begged the warriors for their forgiveness in the twilight of their years. "Do not bear me hard, oh great companions of the spear, for I go forward now to take the life of one who is so cowardly that he would send his own grandfathers and granduncles to bleed in the dirt in his stead rather than bleed at their side, giving his own blood first before theirs,"
No man on either side was not unmoved by Koamalu's words on that day. Weapons were lowered, heads bowed, and tears stained the cheeks of many. "Oh grandfathers and granduncles, live I say to you. Live until the extremities of old age and die at home as you were meant to. Let your families bear your bones where they may never again be found, and let your names live on the tongues of many mouths for years to come! I beg you, let me go forward and right what was made wrong."
A short time later, the ali'i of that land stood surprised to witness his army, and ours literally gathered at his front door. Before he could comprehend why his enemies stood side by side with his men, Koamalu had already come forward and caved in the skull of the ali'i with an adze (ko'i) made of basalt stone. No fervent cheers were raised from our army because we witnessed how destitute the kauhale was. The ordinary people were near starving until their very end. The only richness was that of the ali'i, who gathered everything for himself and his immediate companions. We stayed and helped the people restore life to their lands and their lives before we finally departed. We gained friends, rather than enemies, on that day. "Here is what our task should be after all," Koamalu said to no one. "Restoring the lives and health of people who need it, rather than spilling their blood."
Upon our return home, a somber celebration was had. We drank 'awa silently with no songs or tales to sing. We ate rich foods and drank 'awa into the long, deep night. The following morning, a messenger appeared saying that the great Kamehameha now needed the aid of men such as ourselves to join his campaign to 'O'ahu. The time had come to strike while the iron was hot. While preparations were made, one of the younger men in our regiment, named Līwai, was sent to fetch Koamalu. By the time Līwai returned, all the canoes were ready to depart, but Koamalu was absent.
"Is Koamalu close by?" I asked.
"No," Līwai wept.
"Why do you cry, boy?" I pressed. "Where is Koamalu?"
"From the tree near his cave," Līwai sat on the ground. "I found him, I found him.."
The entire army and I went up into the mountains. It was as Līwai said. From the branches of a tree, near the opening of the cave, there was Koamalu with chords of olonā wrapped around his neck hanging there. I cannot recall the length of time in which we stood rooted to the spot, shocked, unsure of what to do. Someone finally cried out in agonizing pain, and we joined in. My son and I finally took Koamalu down, laying him gently on the ground. For years, we have proved victorious in many campaigns because of one man. Now, he was gone. Taking his own life. War had taken its toll on all of us, especially Koamalu, who we praised as a hero, constantly urging him on the battlefield, but more for our sake than his because we were all afraid to die, never knowing when that day would come. Koamalu gave us hope each time because as he lived, so would we. However, we were cowards and selfish in sending someone ahead of us instead of forging ahead on our own. It wasn't the war on the battlefield that took Koamalu; it was the war in his heart that did.
After affording Koamalu the honors he more than deserved, we departed to aid Kamehameha in his campaign, where I urged our army to fight as if we were all Koamalu. Kamehameha was victorious, but to our surprise, our conquering father returned to the lands he'd rent asunder, and along with all of us, he restored life to the rich soil and the people, in the same way, Koamalu would have done. We fought like Koamalu but gave life back to the land as he did.
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