The Shadow of Arms

by Hwang Sok-Yong

  “Yes, sir. Since then I haven’t seen her at all.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I kept thinking about what my friend Thanh told me. Besides, I was afraid.”

  “Ah, Thanh is a fine fighter. He’s now a company commander in Hue district. Did he tell you not to see her?”

  Minh stared at Thach with an air of resentment. Nguyen Thach held up both hands.

  “Oh, all right. I don’t doubt that Thanh said something, like that a love affair is tragic in your generation, or that love should be sublimated into love for the Vietnamese people, well, something along those lines. You see, I know him pretty well, too.”

  “The reason I’m not seeing Shoan is . . .” Minh paused for a moment, and then he said in a clear voice, “. . . because I’m not confident I can make her into a comrade.”

  Thach just nodded. He picked up a ballpoint pen and kept tapping the desk with it, as if absorbed in thought. He seemed far away, his eyes focused in midair. Minh spoke again.

  “What I find most tormenting is that I have to conceal the truth even from her. I’ve caused her and my younger sister to lose their faith and pride in me.”

  “I can understand that.” Thach stopped tapping. “Everyone is bound to have some remorse about the days of their youth. I wonder if Thanh wasn’t scared himself.”

  Thach stood up. “Among the NLF fighters, there are some who are waging war alongside their loved ones. They’re the happiest men and women in Vietnam. Our cases are different, however. You and I are intellectuals, Comrade. And we’re underground agents. The most important thing for you now is to keep your exposure to a minimum and maintain the security of the organization. Our foes are not only the visible power of the imperialists and their followers but also ourselves. I happened to hear that you made a date to meet her at the pub. Why don’t you go ahead there now and then come back? Meanwhile, I’ll have lunch with Dr. Tran and come back here.”

  “Dr. Tran?”

  “Director of the Da Nang Red Cross Hospital. It’s possible he might sell antibiotics and painkillers to us. Why, do you know him?”

  “No . . . I mean, his daughter goes to Lycée de Pascal with my younger sister.”

  Thach laughed loudly. “We certainly will win. In South Vietnam, the NLF is the only group that has any sense of responsibility for this war. Did you know? The grenade in my possession helped me.”

  “Grenade?”

  “You know, don’t you? That Korean investigation agent. He’s the one who’s introducing me to Dr. Tran.”

  “Well, I’ll see you during the siesta hour, then.”

  The two went their separate ways. Thach went out through the inside door leading from the warehouse into the front corridor. Minh walked out the main door and then pulled the iron gate shut and locked it.

  At Chrysanthemum Pub, Pham Minh and Chan Te Shoan found themselves once again seated face-to-face. It was lunchtime, and the place was crowded.

  “Let’s have lunch. The Puo noodles here are great,” Minh said.

  “I don’t feel like it.”

  “Then I’ll eat alone.”

  “Go ahead.”

  Minh ordered noodles. They were served with minced meatballs and a garnish of fragrant herbs. He began to eat.

  “Have you been back to Uncle Trinh’s?” Shoan asked.

  Shoan was gently reminding him of the night they had spent together in the air-raid shelter before he departed for Atwat.

  “No, I haven’t,” Minh answered curtly.

  “What is it with you? I’m the same as I used to be. I don’t care whether you went into the jungle or came out of it.”

  Minh quietly emptied his bowl.

  “Phuoc says you’re a coward, but, my dear, I don’t think so.”

  She used the words, “my dear,” but Minh responded with measured coldness.

  “Shoan, I’m no longer the same man as before. I’ve changed.”

  “How? You no longer care for me as you did before?”

  “I see now how thoughtless I used to be. Now I’m a soldier in the Air Force of the Republic of Vietnam. I plan to help my brother make a lot of money. And then I’ll go abroad to study. I’ve no time for marriage now or for flirting with women. When I become famous and powerful I’ll have many opportunities to meet wonderful women, and . . .”

  “I see you really have changed, just as Lei said.” Shoan gritted her teeth to hold back the tears. But there was still a thread of hope she was clutching. She managed to speak again in a weak, quivering voice.

  “I’ll probably be engaged. My family is urging me to.”

  “En . . . gaged?”

  “Yes, I’m a graduating senior now. Once the dry season is over, we’ll have graduation exams.”

  Minh averted his eyes from Shoan’s gaze. He felt his throat growing tight. “That’s good.”

  “Do you really mean it?”

  Minh just stared into his teacup, with both arms stretched out on the table. Shoan abruptly stood up. Then, without a word, she rushed out of the door of the pub. Minh went after her, murmuring passionately to himself: “No, I don’t want any woman but her. She has to be my wife.” He saw the white trail of her skirt disappear into the crowd.

  “Shoan, wait!”

  But his cry was lost in the loud rumble of engines at the bus terminal and in the shouts of peddlers trying to beckon for customers. Minh stopped in his tracks, his fists clenched, and tried to convince himself that his feet were glued to the ground. When he looked up again, Shoan was nowhere to be seen.

  “Shoan . . .”

  All the people in the crowd, all the buildings, and everything in old Le Loi market grew blurry. Minh hurriedly wiped his eyes with his palms.

  Down on White Ivory Road along the shore, Nguyen Thach arrived at the restaurant that occupied an old wooden vessel. He came upon Ahn Yong Kyu and Dr. Tran sitting on the aft end of the upper deck. Ahn introduced the two men to each other.

  “This is the Mr. Nguyen Thach I’ve been telling you about. And this is Dr. Tran.”

  From behind his glasses, Dr. Tran carefully scrutinized Thach. They shook hands, then Ahn said, “Dr. Tran tells me his request was granted by the public welfare section of the US headquarters, so he’ll be receiving medical supplies on a regular basis.”

  “Very good. In Vietnam, there are patients dying everywhere without receiving any medical treatment,” Thach said.

  Dr. Tran maintained a prudent silence.

  “I’ve given Dr. Tran a bit of advice about the military hierarchy,” Yong Kyu said. “And so he sent an official letter in the name of the Red Cross Hospital to the supply command, including the official approval from US headquarters. He received an immediate approval for his requisitions. Yesterday, the first deliveries of medical supplies were made.”

  “What is being supplied?”

  Dr. Tran answered in Vietnamese, “Mostly antibiotics like streptomycin and Terramycin. Painkillers in plastic syringes for field use, topical disinfectants for external wounds and burns, ointments, and so on, but most of them are for use on the battlefield. We won’t need it all, only a portion will be sufficient for hospital use. We’re struggling though great financial hardship.”

  “Of course. I understand,” Nguyen Thach remarked. Then he asked, “What’s the approximate quantity available?”

  “Two crates of antibiotics and one of painkillers, roughly.”

  “A crate means ten small boxes, with each box containing a dozen bottles and each bottle a hundred pills, right?”

  “I think so.”

  “That’s really a lot if they supply it regularly. The current market price for a single capsule of Terramycin has been fluctuating between three hundred and five hundred piasters, which means a bottle would run between thirty thousand and fifty thousand.”

 
“A crate would then be about three or four hundred thousand piasters,” Dr. Tran said, smiling contentedly.

  “Can you request more medicines?”

  “We only have a limited number of beds in our hospital. But, there’s another way. Every city in Quang Nam Province has a public hospital. And out in the hamlets, most people don’t have the benefit of medical care.”

  “Let’s suppose that a legal channel is arranged to make a request, then can you get the medical supplies from the supply corps?” Thach asked.

  Yong Kyu interrupted. “I don’t understand Vietnamese. You seem to have lost your manners—how about using English?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot about your presence. I just asked Dr. Tran if he could increase the quantities of medicines being supplied.”

  “He’s opened a proper channel, so I don’t see why the hospital can’t make direct purchases,” Yong Kyu said.

  With Yong Kyu taking part, Thach resigned himself to speaking English “That’s only a temporary measure. The most important thing is that the supplies should be regular.”

  Dr. Tran spoke in Vietnamese to Thach, “You and I are compatriots. Is there any need for a foreigner to be a middleman?”

  “Don’t worry. He’s just here this once to introduce us to each other. He’ll be returning to Korea in a few months.”

  Dr. Tran pushed up the rim of his glasses and, switching to English, said to Yong Kyu, “Due to budget cuts, our hospital is encountering serious financial difficulties. With the money from disposal of leftover medical supplies, we’re planning to make some new appropriations. We’ll have to follow the formal procedures on paper, however.”

  “Of course, you should.”

  Having decided not to intervene any further, Yong Kyu left the table for a while. Dr. Tran continued his discussion with Nguyen Thach. “If we organize mobile clinics to make rounds out in the villages, then there’ll be a good reason to expand the supply volume further.”

  “Mobile clinics ... an excellent idea, doctor.”

  “It’ll also be good for the people.”

  Thach thought to himself that connecting the mobile clinic teams with the phoenix hamlets project would be very auspicious. Ahn Yong Kyu returned to his seat and as he sat down said, “I’m famished. Mr. Nguyen, hurry and buy us lunch, if you would. Since I don’t know your language, I should have brought Toi for an occasion like this.”

  Thach clasped his hands together and said, “I’m truly sorry. There’s an old Tonkinese saying: ‘A marriage arranged by the Chinese.’”

  “That sounds like an old proverb about invaders. In Korea we also have a tendency to regard our good customs as legacies derived from invaders from the continent.”

  They ordered fried fish and rice. As they ate, the two Vietnamese asked Yong Kyu about Korea, about the family structures and customs back home.

  “I’ll send a car to the hospital tonight,” Thach said.

  “Before you do, we have one more thing to discuss,” Dr. Tran said, and Thach readily grasped his meaning.

  “Later when I return to the office, I’ll give you a call,” Thach said. “If you have some free time this evening, I’d like to meet you in a quiet location.”

  Dr. Tran took out a business card and handed it to Thach. “I’ll be resting at home during the siesta. Call me there, please.”

  Dr. Tran left first in his chauffeured car from the hospital.

  “Are you headed back to the office?” Thach asked Yong Kyu as he got into the van.

  “No, I have to drop by the investigation office to take care of a few things. I’ll see you in the market tomorrow morning. And you’ll have to introduce me to one of the clerks at Puohung Company as promised.”

  “Of course. And that’s not all. I’ve decided to reciprocate the favor you’ve done for me.”

  “Wow, I’m so grateful I almost feel like crying,” Yong Kyu said with a grin.

  “No, really, I mean it. Tell your superior I can change your military notes as much as you like into greenbacks without any commission. That’ll put you in a much better position than now.”

  “You mean mainland US dollars?”

  “Yes, dollars. Just say the word. Bring me military currency and I’ll change it on the spot.”

  “Is that all?” Yong Kyu said casually. “We can always find a few Indian moneychangers downtown, you know.”

  “Yes, but they take a big bite with their commissions.”

  “Well, I’m not interested, but my captain might appreciate the offer. Thanks, anyway.”

  They parted. Yong Kyu headed off on foot, intending to walk all the way to the investigation headquarters at the top of Puohung Street. Thach went straight back to the office in Le Loi market. It was siesta time, so the streets were deserted. The surface of the street was a blinding white in the midday heat.

  Nguyen Thach was thinking about the orders handed down to him the night before from the district committee. They were operations orders for the 434th Special Action Group of the Third Special District. With tax collection season ahead, the instructions concerned reinforcement of urban guerrilla units in Da Nang and attacks in several enemy facilities and individual targets. The first task was to blow up an oil reservoir tank near China Beach, and then to demolish the main MAC gate near Somdomeh.

  The second mission was to set off a bomb over the weekend in the parking lot of the Grand Hotel, or to attack the ARVN barracks over near the smokestack. The last mission was to assassinate Vietnamese government officials or military officers who were objects of popular scorn.

  These would be the first combat operations in the city in a long time, breaking the lull since the Tet Offensive. In the Da Nang region there had been the usual fighting by local guerrillas, but peace had been more or less maintained within the city limits. The Fourth Company, recently undergoing training, was due to be mobilized. The military strength of the 434th Special Action Group included one battalion from the outskirts and one from Da Nang city proper, however the companies were actually formed with only fifteen members and each platoon consisted of a five-member cell. Thach used his own discretion as the chief agent for the district and put the black mark of a target under the name of Colonel Cao, the police superintendent.

  Thach reached his brother’s warehouse and walked inside. Pham Minh had buried his face on the desk, but he quickly lifted his head when he heard someone entering. As always, Thach sat astride the desk, facing the entrance and keeping an eye on the outside through the window.

  “Today is the day to make contact with the company lines, eh?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “This month will end the first half of the year. So this is when we’ll implement the first periodic quota for tax collection and for levy of new recruits in the city. The operations orders have been received. This time, only the First Battalion will be carrying out combat missions in Da Nang. Of course, they’re still undergoing training, so they’ve been given relatively simple targets. Next weekend they will set up a high-explosive charge in the parking lot of the Grand Hotel. And they will eliminate the police superintendent, Colonel Cao. These tasks must be completed within five to ten days from the start of next week.”

  “Colonel Cao, you say?” Minh asked, puzzled.

  “That’s correct. He’s to be the real man in charge of organizing the militias for the phoenix hamlets project. No harm would be done if he cooperates with Kiem, but if he interferes, he’ll become an obstacle to our mission.”

  “Judging from the way Kiem talked, he didn’t seem to worry much about Cao or about the liaison officer from the Second Division. As our investigations already revealed, Cao is a paragon of a corrupt officer. He’s deeply involved in all the vice concessions from heroin to cigarettes and beer as well as the brothels, Turkish baths, night clubs, bars, and other operations in the pleasure districts of Da Nang. A
ren’t the decadent officials and corrupt military officers usually exempted from being NLF targets? Of course, he’s been an object of complaints, but the more complaints he generates, we were taught, the more the Saigon government itself becomes unpopular. A vicious village mayor should be eliminated instantly, but someone like Cao, wouldn’t he make himself useful to us in our trading operations?”

  “Well . . . what you say makes sense in a case like your brother,” Thach said. “But there’s a great danger that Cao might openly act on his own plans regarding establishment of the phoenix hamlet militias. We must support Lieutenant Kiem and see to it that he assumes even greater responsibility. What we want is a restructuring of the dealing channels. If a new police superintendent has to take over Cao’s role, he’ll need time to learn the ropes and then he’ll have to reclaim Cao’s concessions one by one. Meanwhile, we can use Kiem to systematically reorganize all of the dealing in war materiel connected with the setting up of the militias.

  “It won’t be easy for the new superintendent to interfere with Kiem, since the new system will already be in place from top to bottom in tight order, and the new man will have to focus on his own duties. For instance, he may be content if we offer him a portion of the revenues from draft exemptions or diverted training expenses, and make that into his steady income. As you know, we’re looking now for a way we can develop a steady source of weapons, ammunition, and medical supplies. In addition, if we can solve the problem of procuring C-rations, then the NLF in central Vietnam will be able to find its feet, and that will mean the supply routes along the Ho Chi Minh Trail farther south will also be able to carry larger flows. The elimination of Cao will bring about a big change in the underground economy of Da Nang, wait and see. There’ll be an upheaval in the supply of luxury items from the PXs, and the black market will be up for grabs, since all the dealers, not to mention the Americans and the Koreans, will heatedly compete with one another.”

  “Now I understand, sir.”

  “Cell A of the reinforcement company is most efficient, so I’m planning to entrust the elimination of Cao to them. Cell B will be assigned to assist cell A, and cell C can take care of the Grand Hotel mission. I’ll be furnishing cell C with time-delay detonators and disassembled mines. First, tell them to put together their basic plans this week and then report on that to a higher authority. After their plans are reviewed and accepted, they can execute them. Cell B should conduct investigations into Cao’s house, his relatives and friends, his daily routine and patterns of movement, the strength and characteristics of his bodyguards, the places he most often frequents, and so on. Based on that information, cell A will select the most opportune time and location for the attack, then conduct a field survey and a dry run before eliminating Cao. What’s the contact hour?”