The Shadow of Arms

by Hwang Sok-Yong

  “Shall I make you another potful? Today the stuffed cucumbers are just right.”

  “Yes, please.”

  Sitting across the table, Ahn Yong Kyu finally interrupted the chatting. “You asked to see me, God only knows why, but you aren’t even going to say hello?”

  “Ah, sorry, it’s just it’s been so long since I’ve seen her. It won’t be too long now, will it?”

  Yong Kyu didn’t understand. “What do you mean?”

  “Aren’t you going back home?”

  “In about a month.”

  Hae Jong nodded very slightly.

  “Is Major Pham still out on the operation?”

  “It’ll soon be over.”

  Yong Kyu was going to say something about the provincial office, but then he stopped himself, thinking it was none of his business. The moment he sets sail over that sea, everything in this place will become vague and sink into the darkness of forgetting, like an afterimage that gradually melts away, the darkness distorting and then dispersing its original solidity and bright colors.

  “They say that in gambling the secret of winning is to quit while you’re ahead,” Yong Kyu said. “It’s much harder then, though. You ought to get away from this place.”

  As usual, Hae Jong just let out a short laugh. “There you go again with your meddling.”

  Then all at once she grew serious and looked directly into Yong Kyu’s eyes. “Haven’t you been saving up military currency for your return home?” she asked.

  “No, not at all. Since my time in the jungle, I have no use for greed. The money I get, I spend it all here. Besides, I’m not making any money now. When I head home, I’ll just take my shaving kit.”

  But Hae Jong did not seem to take his words at face value. Her cold eyes asked him why the hell he had come there and risked his life.

  “Listen to me carefully,” she said, “there’s no reason why we should come all the way here just to be outdone by the Americans. I’ve heard they’ll be changing the military currency. They may have announced it today at their headquarters. As you know, the GIs haven’t been allowed off their bases since last week.”

  Yong Kyu nodded. “We already guessed that much. Maybe the rumors will start to spread gradually tomorrow. Anyway, I appreciate your concern.”

  “Isn’t anyone in your unit returning home before you?”

  Yong Kyu thought of the sergeant and answered, “As a matter of fact, there’s a man leaving in about ten days.”

  “What do they call it, a transit container allowance? What’s the limit on those when you go home?”

  “Each of us is allowed two. All you need to do is take the stickers they give you and paste them on the containers.”

  Hae Jong assumed a business-like tone. “Mr. Ahn, would you introduce me to that man?”

  “To send goods home?”

  “Yes. I want to ship some things to my mother and my sister. I want to make sure they are taken care of even with me away.”

  For a few moments Hae Jong’s gaze was focused off in the distance and then she was back. “All your unit members have ration cards, don’t they? When the currency is swapped, their ration cards will also be replaced. If you buy all the items covered by the ration card it would make a few truckloads of goods, but if you stick with the high-value things you can limit the bulk. I don’t need any appliances. Help me partner with him. I can provide him with an unlimited supply of military currency to buy things, and he can keep half the purchases for himself.”

  Ahn Yong Kyu let out a short laugh, as she had earlier. “That proposal will make our sergeant jump for joy, you can be sure. I’m afraid you’ll have to hurry. They say the PXs will start an inventory within a few days.”

  “I know. They’re always like that. Soldiers can buy whatever they want until this weekend.”

  “I’ll introduce him to you.”

  “When?”

  “This time tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow morning,” Hae Jong said, advancing the meeting time.

  “We’re extremely busy today and probably tomorrow, too. We’re moving, you know.”

  “Major Pham’s Land Rover is available, so he and I can use that car to shop at the different PXs. After the purchases are made, we can store them at Son Tinh.”

  “Don’t worry about that; the house we’re moving into has a huge warehouse right outside.”

  “How about ten tomorrow morning?”

  “I’ll tell him. Anyway, will I be left empty-handed after building a bridge between the two of you?”

  “I’ll buy you a new shaving kit, won’t that be enough to keep you happy?” said Hae Jong, suddenly breaking out into carefree laughter.

  They left the restaurant and walked together for a while.

  “What will you do after you get back home?” she asked.

  “I don’t know . . . I’ve learned a lot here.”

  “About what?”

  Yong Kyu abruptly altered his tone. “Money sure isn’t everything, that’s what I learned.”

  This time Hae Jong did not laugh. “Money is power, and freedom, too. In every country, the soldiers are the sorriest ones.”

  “The guerrillas seem different somehow. Here and here don’t seem to be in opposition,” Yong said, pointing to his temple and then striking his chest with his palm.

  “Whatever you say, we all live in a world of money.”

  Hae Jong waved down a passing rickshaw and said to Yong Kyu. “I’m in trouble. Now that time is running out, I like you more and more. I’m going. Don’t forget, ten o’clock tomorrow.”

  The rickshaw with Hae Jong inside lurched away.

  Ahn Yong Kyu headed straight for the Bamboo Club. Compared to the Da Nang Sports Club, it was practically an open place. Vietnamese soldiers, American GIs, third-country nationals, even local civilians came and went freely there. There were no rooms, only a big hall with a bar in the center. During the daytime hours, simple meals and beer were served, and at the bar you could get standard mixed drinks like gin and tonic or bourbon and Coke. The hostesses worked only at night.

  Many of the staff from the joint investigation headquarters frequented the Bamboo, and merchants from the new Le Loi market often came in for lunch. Prices were reasonable. It was the right sort of place for simple business affairs or to meet a stranger for the first time on a provisional basis, but nobody would arrange a secret rendezvous there. The location was excellent, right at the intersection where Doc Lap Boulevard, Le Loi Boulevard, and Puohung Street converged. Toi made it a habit to stop by the Bamboo at least once each day just to take the pulse and sniff the general atmosphere of the city. When Yong Kyu walked in, Toi was sitting at the right corner of the bar, half-facing the entrance.

  When Yong Kyu sat down beside him, he lowered his voice and said, “What do you say? Was I right, or what? Tonight MAC will broadcast the official announcement from the high command. It’s already generally known on the US bases. By tomorrow, word will be spreading in town.”

  “I made a report on it to the captain, too. It won’t affect us too seriously. But we were given an order to dig out a dealing connection with the NLF, you think it’s possible?”

  Toi raised his voice, “What’s this? Has the principle changed?”

  “My principles are same as ever. All we want to do is to prove the independence of our detachment.”

  Toi tsk-tsked. “The captain is mistaken this time. You guys are part of the command structure of the joint investigation headquarters.”

  “But the captain says Krapensky is to be replaced. And now that we’re separated, the new man will want a fresh evaluation of the Korean team, so he wants to set a precedent for independent operations. Naturally, after we give them the information, it’ll be the Americans who undertake the final investigation to confirm the accuracy of our leads.”r />
  “It’ll soon be clearer who’s who, but I’ve been trying to see that the information is not wasted in an undiscriminating way.”

  “I got the impression the captain is intending to use our memo reporting on the dealings by Major Pham and Nguyen. I didn’t tell him of our suspicions about Nguyen Thach.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. I guess it’s easier to aim and shoot when the enemy’s a little farther away from you.”

  “That’s far from what I think, but anyway it’s a good thing you didn’t talk about it. Today I’m going to comb through the whole area from Somdomeh over to the smokestack markets. If you’ll join me, that is. But I’ll keep my hands clean of the matters that require reports to the captain.”

  Yong Kyu was dismayed by Toi’s reproachful tone. “Listen, Toi, I’m a soldier. Don’t be angry with me.”

  “You know, I get thirty or forty dollars a month from you people for feeding you some stupid information and my interpretations. And then I take a few morsels of goods from Turen and sell them on the market. Because it’s your business. But now I’m talking about business deals among the Vietnamese. Big scale operations, and very big risks. This may well be the last opportunity for me. I already lost an eye in this war. And I’m not getting any disabled veteran’s pension.”

  Yong Kyu hung his head and stayed silent for a time. Toi again urged him.

  “Ahn, I don’t want to cheat behind your back. You have no obligation to follow the captain’s request. You’ll be off-duty in a month, and then all you need to do is a little shopping and then off you go on your way out of here.”

  “Anyway, it’s agreed we’ll work together to gather the information, right?”

  Reluctantly, Toi nodded. Then, glancing down at his watch, he pounded on the table. “God, I’ve got to go see Stapley. The landlord called me. His son made it back home.”

  “When’s the departure time?”

  Toi finished the rest of his drink and patted Yong Kyu on the shoulder. “Tonight. You should come along, too. No sleep for us tonight.”

  The two men walked over to the back alley of the old market where Stapley was holed up. As usual, they pulled the bellrope and the landlord came out to the front hall, looking half-asleep. This time, however, he swung the door swiftly open and waved to Toi. The two of them followed the old man into the kitchen, where wicker chairs had been set up around a long meal table. When the landlord said something in a loud voice, the door opposite opened and a uniformed Vietnamese naval officer appeared. The insignia on his sleeve were a lieutenant’s. At the sight of the two visitors, he bowed.

  Toi spoke. “This is the landlord’s son who I told you about.”

  “Let’s call Stapley.”

  Toi went thumping up the steps. The landlord muttered, “Beaucoup sleep, beaucoup sleep,” putting both hands on his cheeks.

  “He means your friend sleeps a lot,” the naval officer explained.

  As he walked in, Stapley grabbed Yong Kyu’s hair and gave it a tug.

  “We’ve already made a deal with your father,” Yong Kyu said, opening the business discussion.

  “So I heard. I understand the destination is Saigon. That’s possible. And I’ve already been introduced to this gentleman.”

  “He told me,” Stapley said, “that in Saigon there are many organizations helping AWOLs to slip out of the country. The European missionaries and civilians are doing that, he said.”

  “That’s true. I know a Frenchman and a German who have been doing that. One is a priest and the other a doctor.”

  “What ship are you on?” Yong Kyu asked.

  “It’s an LST.”

  “Then he can board right from the pier. We’ve discussed it with your father: ten thousand piasters to Nha Trangh, and then another five thousand payable in Saigon on the condition that you see that he get’s onto a boat from Nha Trangh to Saigon.”

  The Vietnamese officer listened with his eyes blinking and then tilted his head. “I’m not the only officer on board, you know. I’m not sure about the others, but I cannot ignore the captain of the vessel. Let’s make it twenty thousand piasters here and another ten thousand later, and I’ll need half of the first part right now. You see, I have to get back on board my ship before nightfall. That way I can get everything prepared.”

  “Twenty-five thousand, what do you say?”

  Toi started talking hurriedly in Vietnamese. Then in English he said to Yong Kyu, “I told the lieutenant to keep the agreement we made with his father. I also told him about all the things we brought to his father since Stapley has been here.”

  “Oh, all right, twenty-five thousand.”

  With this assent from the lieutenant, Yong Kyu made a signal to Toi with his eyes, whereupon Toi took out a bundle of bills and started to count out the initial payment.

  Stapley stood up and said, “Look, this is my business. Don’t be spending your money.”

  “Hey, hippie,” Yong Kyu said, pointing at Stapley, “you just sit tight. What little cash you have you’ll be needing to open that pottery shop in Tibet.”

  Once Toi had handed over the money to the lieutenant, the latter quickly handed it to his father, who began slowly counting it out one bill at a time.

  “Now, let me go over the tricks to get you on board,” the officer said.

  “What are you talking about?” Yong Kyu asked, his voice showing irritation. “You mean you won’t be taking him aboard yourself?”

  “Let’s hear him out,” Stapley said.

  “You know where we dock, don’t you? The outer port, what you people call Monkey Mountain, but the real name is Bai Bang. Have you been to that cargo terminal?”

  “Yes, I know it.”

  It was the landing where Yong Kyu had first set foot on Vietnamese soil. But when he shipped out they would arrange for a launch to pick him up at a pier downtown and take him out to the middle of Da Nang Bay.

  “There’s a barricade in the navy cargo yard. The American forces, Vietnamese forces, and foreign ships each have their separate and exclusive areas. Boarding will have to be done after eleven tonight. After lights out, everyone will be in their cabins except the petty officer on deck duty and one guard team. At the entrance to the pier there’s a sentry post. The American shore patrol is on guard at another checkpoint inside, but they usually are watching their own separate gate. I’ll wait at our sentry post. Then he’ll walk with me toward the ship and climb up on the deck with me. That’ll be it. I’ll arrange a place for him to sleep on board.”

  “Hey, that sounds simple enough!” Stapley shouted in excitement.

  Toi and Yong Kyu asked simultaneously, “What about his clothes? Will he be all right as is?”

  “What’s the matter with this outfit?”

  Stapley, his hair and beard now long, slowly looked down at the T-shirt and blue jeans he had on. “I’ll just take this off,” he said, touching the pendant around his neck.

  “Can you get an American navy uniform?”

  “If need be, I can go get one right now.”

  “A navy blue shirt over blue jeans and a blue hat will be good enough,” Yong Kyu said. “Still, that beard and hair would never meet navy regulations.”

  “Exactly. Better get them cut.”

  The lieutenant agreed with Yong Kyu, but Stapley stepped back and protested.

  “No way. That’s why I’m running away. Nobody touches my beard. When I get to Saigon, I shouldn’t smell like a soldier or sailor. Passing by the sentry post, that’s done in the blink of an eye.”

  Toi and Yong Kyu exchanged looks. Stapley had a point there.

  “All right, but get some work clothes and put on a hat to cover the hair.”

  “I’ll meet you tonight at ten o’clock at the Vietnamese navy gate. Now, everything is settled, right?”

 
; The lieutenant shook hands with Stapley. Yong Kyu, Toi, and Stapley came out of the kitchen and went up to Stapley’s room.

  “Phew, it stinks in here,” Yong Kyu said, holding his nose.

  “Don’t complain. It’s the true odor of a human being. I barely get a chance to take a shower once in three days. And when I do, I just get a little splash from a bucket in the back yard.”

  “Clean up the room, too.”

  They looked down at all of the things Stapley had piled up: dirty plates, bowls, chopsticks, cans, a hotplate, and so on. All his clothes were in a bundle at the corner of the iron bedframe. Stapley sat down on the bed and Toi and Yong Kyu sat in the wooden chairs.

  “Toi and I will see you get to the pier tonight,” Yong Kyu said.

  “When I get out of this country, I’ll write to you from the first port I reach,” Stapley said.

  “Leon wanted to come and say goodbye, but we wouldn’t let him.”

  “He’ll win the bet.” Stapley acted like a man who had departed Vietnam long ago. “If not for the war, I wouldn’t mind living here in one of the seaside villages.”

  “Right, thanks to American tourists like you, before long this place will soon become a hell of a place to live. You’ll turn round and round a few times and then end up back in your own country.”

  “Ah, don’t tell me horror stories like that.”

  “We’ll be back tonight. In the meantime, get some sleep.”

  At nine that night, Ahn Yong Kyu and Toi drove over again to pick up Stapley. Instead of the van, they had deliberately taken the sergeant’s army Jeep, keeping the canvas top up. It was Toi’s idea, to get through from the smokestack bridge to Bai Bang without any strict inspection from the guards at the checkpoints. Toi was dressed in his army uniform and Yong Kyu had on his jungle fatigues. When they got there, Stapley was waiting with a small vinyl bag. He wore a navy work shirt and a blue work hat with a warrant officer’s insignia on the front. The beard posed a little problem, but he might conceivably pass for a seaman just back from a long voyage.

  Stapley was not in a mood to talk much. They drove up White Elephant Street, passed the oil tanks with the Shell markings, and headed down toward the bridge. The area was lit up like broad daylight. Briefly, they stopped at the guard post and a Vietnamese QC came out with the American guard. Toi raised his hand to wave, and the guard recognized him and with a smile lifted the barricade. At the Bai Bang entrance they had to pass through another inspection checkpoint at the three-way junction leading to the pier and the naval headquarters, but made it through and headed down along the shore. On the left side there was nothing but the ocean and some barren yellow dunes, and the searchlights set up at intervals shone all the way to the pier standing ahead in the distance. Offshore, navy vessels and patrol boats of various sizes were blinking their signal lights. One of the searchlights whipped by and then slowly licked the surface of the water.