While Rome Was Sleeping

by M. S. Forsythe

  Chernakov thought of the visit to the cemetery and of the strange conversation with the workman. It carried an excitement for him and a sense of expectation. He now had a reason to believe the Americans were working to accomplish his escape and it was as if a prayer had been answered after all these months.

  ✽✽✽

  Landing in Nanning he thought of Sukhanov, but realized that the Major’s presence as his aide now would be a hindrance in his plans.

  A car was waiting to take them to the prison camp, but this time Major Lu Chan stepped out to greet them. Lu Chan noticed immediately the unbending sternness of Chernakov’s new aide, Major Sergei Trushenko and the more formal demeanor of the General.

  Lu Chan commented pleasantly, “I was looking forward to seeing Major Sukhanov again, General, how is he?”

  Chernakov smiled and nodded, “I am certain that he would want me to give you his greetings, ‘Major,’” emphasizing the new rank, he paused, “I see you have been promoted, congratulations. Sukhanov has received a promotion also and at this time he is in Czechoslovakia and doing well; and General Yang?”

  Lu Chan nodded also smiling. “I am most sorry to tell you that General Yang was called to Bejing two days ago. He was to be back tomorrow, however, we have been notified that he will remain there for another four days. It is possible that he will miss your time here, altogether. General, I have been instructed to act as your escort and allow you to have access to any and all of the prisoners you wish to interview.”

  Lu Chan noting the change in Chernakov’s demeanor, suggested an early dinner. Chernakov agreed and asked that they be taken to their quarters immediately after.

  Before retiring in the same quarters as he and Sukhanov had shared, Chernakov reviewed the orders given him by Karpov. He looked at his aide and said, “Do you know our purpose here, Trushenko?”

  “We are to interrogate some American prisoners before they are transferred.”

  “The orders, Major, are that I am to interview these prisoners. Therefore, our purpose would be best served if you would take charge of securing the plane and the air crew. I am not unaware of the danger that exists here. It was general Yang who incarcerated two of our technicians at this same location and I would not like to be forced to negotiate for the release of any of our air crew.”

  “This is a very wise plan, General, and I will be pleased to take this responsibility,” Trushenko assured him.

  ✽✽✽

  Lu Chan arrived early to accompany the Soviet General to the prison that held the POW’s. Chernakov was quiet and seemed even more preoccupied than the day before. Lu Chan reasoned that the General did not look forward to the interrogations and asked, “Is there anything you would like to do before we begin the interrogations, General?”

  “Yes, Comrade Lu Chan, I would like a brief tour of the cells.”

  “Certainly, General, I will be happy to escort you,” Lu Chan responded. They rode in silence for a few more minutes then Lu Chan asked casually, “Was it very cold in Moscow when you left, General?”

  “Yes, it was very cold, but it is the time of year,” Chernakov replied absent-mindedly, continuing to look out the window of the car at the bleak surroundings as they approached the camp.

  Lu Chan spoke again, “I understand that September of 1967 was unseasonably warm in Moscow.”

  Chernakov’s reaction was immediate, but he continued to stare out the window commenting slowly, “Yes, I do recall now that it was unusually warm and pleasant,” he replied. His pulse had quickened, but he must be careful. It could be a trap, the whole cemetery episode and now Lu Chan. “Better to wait,” he told himself.

  The Chinese Major continued, seemingly unaware of his companion’s caution, nodding he commented, “It is warmest here this time of year. It is fortunate that you could make the right connections that would allow you to interrogate the particular prisoners the Party has asked for.”

  The same excitement that he had experienced in the cemetery filled him. And now, hearing the same strange words from Lu Chan; he could only half believe that this could be some way of communication from the Americans. His response was measured. “I find it most interesting to meet someone who is so knowledgeable about climactic contrasts. As a pilot I am required to know these weather patterns, but you Major, are a surprise. We must discuss the subject again sometime,” he said as he looked out the car window as they passed through the gate of the prison compound.

  Lu Chan knew that Chernakov had understood.

  ✽✽✽

  A guard opened the car door for Chernakov and Lu Chan. Lu Chan spoke to the guard in Chinese telling him that they would be touring the cells where five American prisoners were being held.

  The first was the cell of an American major; a Chaplain who had been captured in Laos. As they approached they saw he was being beaten by a guard; the prisoner was in bad shape.

  Lu Chan intervened, “What are you doing?” he shouted at the guard. “Get away from him. I will see to it that you are dealt with severely for this. This man is in no condition to be beaten any more.”

  Bending over the Chaplain, Lu Chan spoke softly to him, “Would you like some water?”

  The Chaplain, his face badly bruised, nodded and murmured through swollen lips, “Thanks. Bless you.”

  Lu Chan nodded his head making sure the Chaplain was as comfortable as possible and then motioned Chernakov on to the next cells.

  They left the cell block after seeing three or four more of the American POWs; one of whom had obviously been wounded. Possibly his wounds had been treated at some time, but he was very thin and was now quite ill; Chernakov was troubled at the seemingly poor treatment of the prisoner. He looked at Lu Chan, “What kind of treatment has this man had?” Chernakov spoke sharply.

  Lu Chan looked at Chernakov, “I apologize, General, this man arrived only two days ago. He was given medicine immediately. He was one who came to us from Laos. As you are no doubt aware, the Pathet Lao prisoners are treated even more harshly than our North Vietnamese comrades. You must understand we must be cautious in our treatment; General Yang does not wish us to squander our resources.”

  On the way to the interrogation rooms after a review of the prisoners, Chernakov spoke cautiously to Lu Chan, “I now understand your concern over the well being of a prisoner, Major, but perhaps you endangered yourself by being too severe with the guard.” Chernakov watched Lu Chan’s face harden as he spoke.

  “The Chaplain poses no threat to anyone; perhaps he will be exchanged one day. It is not our business to prove our superiority by brutality,” he said decisively.

  ✽✽✽

  They stepped through a door in the prison into a long gray corridor. Lu Chan opened an inner door off the hallway. The room, like the hallway was drab gray. Everything was painted gray; the interrogation room was stark with a single light fixture dangling on a chain from the ceiling.

  The room contained a desk with a chair behind it and one in front of the desk. There were two straight backed chairs near one wall and a three drawer filing cabinet in a corner.

  “I thought you would like to use the desk for your papers, General.” Lu Chan went on, “The men you choose to interview will sit in front of you; I will sit on one side, if you wish for me to stay. There will be two guards near the door or just outside, whichever you prefer.”

  Chernakov looked around at the room. “This is quite acceptable Major; the guards will remain outside in the hallway. You will remain with me.” Chernakov took papers from his briefcase and arranged them on the desk.

  He looked at Lu Chan, “Before we begin the interrogations we will discuss some things and I have some questions for you. Please sit down, Major.”

  His eyes still on at Lu Chan, “How secure are these rooms; by that I mean, will our interrogations be monitored?” His eyes searched the room, floor to ceiling and came to rest on Lu Chan looking squarely into his eyes.

  Lu Chan responded quickly, “There are two othe
r rooms set aside for monitoring conversations, General. This room is secure; you may feel free to ask what you wish and the responses will be heard in this room only.”

  “That’s good; now tell me Major, how is it that you know of the weather in Moscow in September of 1967?”

  Lu Chan smiled slightly saying, “I have a contact in an international weather reporting agency.”

  “I see; then you will provide me with weather updates as necessary to my journey. Am I correct?” Pyotr asked thoughtfully.

  “Yes, General, as I am given instructions to pass on,” Lu Chan answered.

  “Now to the task before us, General, do you have some prisoners specifically in mind that you wish to interview?” Lu Chan inquired simply.

  Chernakov took a file holding several sheets of paper from his briefcase. “Yes I do” he answered. “I am specifically interested in the Americans that were captured in Laos; I am now working with an incomplete list. I would like names, rank and service branch and the dates of capture. Perhaps you can provide additional information regarding some of them; information that I do not have that could be important,” Chernakov directed.

  “You and I both have worked with prisoners of war, Major Lu Chan, but you in a different capacity. Since you have worked with the POWs for such a long period of time, have you tabulated the exact numbers of the number of prisoners the North Vietnamese have captured?” Chernakov asked.

  “You mean the total in all camps,” Lu Chan asked.

  “Yes,” Pyotr replied.

  “I will give you what information I have,” Lu Chan said seriously. According to our recent count reports there are over one thousand, possibly more...” Lu Chan answered.

  “Do you have a record of where they were captured, and are they broken down by rank, Major?”

  Lu Chan opened a file and quickly paged through the papers it contained, saying, “I have some of what you ask here. Shall I read it, Comrade?”

  “No,” Chernakov answered, “just give me an overview and I will take a report with me.”

  Lu Chan began, “There were more than five hundred American aviators captured in North Vietnam; they were comprised of senior officers of the U.S. Air Force and the U. S. Navy. The aviators include three astronauts trained for space flight and ten of the aviators have more than 4000 flight hours each. There were thirty other POWs captured in North Vietnam who were diversionists and what they called Advisors.”

  “That’s an impressive number. Do we know how many survived?” Chernakov queried.

  “It changes from day to day, General,” Lu Chan went on, “in South Vietnam we are told the Viet Cong and the North Vietnamese Army have captured over one hundred US air crew members, mainly helicopter aviators and some jet aviators as well as eighty five servicemen of other categories. There were sixty five captured in Cambodia and forty three in Laos.” Lu Chan handed the papers to Chernakov. “I have another copy, General.”

  Chernakov took it from his hand saying, “Thank you, Major. It has been reported to me that the American government has no knowledge of the exact number of POWs in the Democratic Republic of Vietnam because the North Vietnamese Army Command retains those numbers in strict secrecy. According to the report, the Americans’ official list published by the NVA contains the names of only three hundred sixty eight prisoners.”

  “I believe that is correct, General,” Lu Chan replied.

  “Hmmm, an interesting discrepancy,” Chernakov murmured studying, “How accurate is this list, Comrade?” he said tapping the papers in his hand.

  “I am not absolutely certain, General,” Lu Chan answered “you must think we are careless record keepers, but these prisoners are moved and evaluated often, based on their usefulness. I am only one of those who order them to be moved.”

  “No, I do not believe you are careless at all, I understand the problem very well.

  “Major, how long will China continue holding the American POWs of North Vietnam?”

  Lu Chan responded, “I do not know, General, but I do know that there is an agreement that Hanoi made with Bejing to keep some of the American prisoners.”

  Shaking his head in disapproval, Chernakov commented, “A chess game with prisoners as pawns.”

  “Forgive me, General, but your government has also made the same agreements considering some of the prisoners have been moved to the USSR, am I not correct?”

  Chernakov nodded his head. He said slowly, “Touché, Major, and there will be others as a result of my visit today.”

  Lu Chan nodded understanding and continued, “China will not release any of them back to the American government without approval from the North Vietnamese; the North Vietnamese believe that the United States will eventually tire of a war it can’t win, much the same as the French, and when that happens, Hanoi will have the prisoners as a bargaining tool for reparations.

  “They know the U.S. will not risk global war by sending their troops into China nor would they risk sending aerial reconnaissance to locate and rescue any prisoners. They believe the American government will pay to get their prisoners back.

  “It is different with your government, General; the prisoners who are sent to the Soviet Bloc will not be traded or bargained for; they will be used for information purposes, and then disappear. Is this not so?”

  Chernakov nodded gravely, “It is a shameful and a dangerous game we play with the Americans, my friend; I believe they will risk much to regain their prisoners.

  “I will need access to all the information you have on the American prisoners, Major.” Chernakov went on, “Now to the business at hand; I am here to specifically interview three prisoners from Laos who may be technicians captured at a Tactical Air Navigation site, on Phou Pha Thi Mountain. Do you know what I am referring to?”

  “Yes, General, these are our three most recent prisoners captured in Laos. They came to Hanoi two months ago and I arranged for their transfer here. They had no military identification or any papers; we have no doubt they work for the CIA. We do not believe the names they have given are genuine.”

  “We will see. Please, Major, let’s begin with the one in the same cell block as the American Chaplain.”

  “Very well, I will have the guards bring in the prisoner.

  ✽✽✽

  The man that entered the room moved slowly, he stumbled slightly as a guard pushed him to move more quickly. He stopped; surprise flickered across his face as he saw the Soviet General seated at the desk. The look of surprise was immediately replaced by a look of hostility.

  “Come in and be seated, there,” Chernakov gestured toward the chair facing him in front of the desk.

  Pyotr appraised the American; he was thin, but this man appeared to be in better condition than others he had seen. There was a look of determination in his blue eyes. He had seen it in other prisoners. This fellow would resist his questions he knew.

  “I am Lieutenant General Pyotr Chernakov. I am an Air Force officer of the Union of the Soviet Socialist Republics. You know Major Lu Chan?” Chernakov asked, speaking English.

  The prisoner nodded.

  “Good! We all know each other, except, I don’t know your name. What is your name?” Pyotr asked respectfully.

  “John Smith,” the answer was strong and obstinate.

  “Really?” Chernakov smiled, “That’s a very American name. There are so many of you...are you sure that is your name?” he asked politely.

  “The American looked at him directly, “My name is John Smith,” he asserted stubbornly, “and I am a civilian.”

  “I see, well Mr. Smith, what is your ‘civilian’ occupation?” Pyotr remained calm, friendly.

  “I work in construction.”

  “What kind of construction?”

  “I do road construction work.”

  “You were a long way from your home to do road construction... all the way to Laos?”

  “That’s what I do,” he said defiantly.

  “Where is your home, Mr. S
mith?”

  “The United States of America.”

  “Do you have a family there...one that you would like to see again someday?”

  “Go to Hell!!”

  “Look at me, Mr. Smith, what do you see?” Chernakov spoke softly, but there was an edge to his question.

  The prisoner raised his eyes and looked squarely at Chernakov, but didn’t answer.

  Chernakov pressed, “I will tell you what you do not see, Mr. Smith, you do not see a fool. You will answer my questions, one way or the other.”

  Lu Chan watched with deep interest. He had admired the Soviet General from the first time he had met him in Hanoi. He wondered if the American would underestimate the skill of his interrogator.

  “Now shall we try again? Let me help you. We already know that you were captured at a secret CIA radar complex in Laos. Because of the nature of that complex, the people who were there were highly trained technically; therefore, since you were one of those people, we believe that you are knowledgeable about the Tactical Air Navigation system and the TSQ.”

  “I work in road construction,” the prisoner asserted dogmatically. He seemed to be bracing himself as if he was expecting a blow or some physical attack.

  Chernakov sighed, “Very well, Mr. Smith, I know that you would probably withstand a beating, but I think that would be a waste of time. I saw one of your American Chaplains today when I toured the cells. Do you know the one I mean?”

  Smith nodded his head, slightly bewildered by the question.

  Chernakov continued, “He was in quite bad condition and probably is in need of medical attention. I doubt that he could withstand another beating. What do you think, Mr. Smith?”

  Pyotr saw the look of understanding, then the rage and defeat in the man’s eyes as he shook his head, no.