Ha Jin - Ocean of Words

“Cheng Zhi,” Gu shouted, “I screw your ancestors one by one! If you are your father’s son, don’t leave. Let’s fight it out.”

The sky over Hutou was glimmering with thin mist pierced by stars. The chilly spring wind was rubbing my burning forehead as I went across the drill ground and reached the stream behind our barracks. The thawing ice sent out small noises on the water surface, while some birds were chirping and quacking in the dark. I was grateful to Liu Sheng, the vice squad leader, who had held Gu back before the whole thing could turn ugly. Whatever the reason, as a leader I shouldn’t have used force first. Besides, Gu was a stout man and the best fighter in my squad. He came from Shandong Province and had practiced kung fu since childhood. That was why nobody dared confront him. To tell the truth, I was not his match if we fought bare-handed.

I wandered along the stream and through the birch woods until the chilly air began making my skin tingle in my cotton-padded clothes.

When I returned to our room, it was quiet except for several men snoring away. Everybody was fast asleep. I undressed myself and slipped into my bed. Gu stirred, gnashed his teeth, then resumed snoring.

The next day everything went as usual. In the morning we practiced throwing antitank grenades; in the afternoon we worked in our company’s vegetable cellar, peeling off rotten cabbage leaves. Gu remained rather placid. I knew the matter was not over, so for an entire day I racked my brain for a solution. Though I did not have a definite idea how to resolve the issue, without doubt it would be better to talk it out than fight it out.

To my surprise, Gu proposed a talk. That evening, when I returned to our room with newspapers and mail, he came to me and said, “Squad Leader Cheng, I need to chat with you.”

“All right.” I tried to remain calm. “When do you think we should talk?”

“Now.” He smiled awkwardly. “Can we go outside?”

“Sure.”

All the men watched us in silence as we walked out. Since I had agreed, I had to follow him to any place he thought suitable. The dark evening was a little warm, and the smoky air was motionless. We crossed two rows of poplars and reached the area for gymnastic exercises. He stopped, resting one hand on a parallel bar.

“Cheng Zhi, I never thought you were so fierce.” A mysterious grin spread on his egg-shaped face.

“Gu Gong, we joined the army in the same year, and I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of the new soldiers —”

“You beat me! Damn you, even my parents never kicked me like that.”

“Listen to me —”

“You were so wild last night. Now, let yourself run wild again.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to settle it with you now. Let’s go a few rounds.” His small eyes were shimmering in the dark while his hands were rubbing each other, as if he were preparing himself for a wrestling contest.

I tried hard to stay coolheaded. “Listen, Gu Gong, we are revolutionary soldiers and don’t play games like hooligans. I’m not good at doing things in your style and can only fight in the soldier’s way, so I refuse to ‘play’ with you.”

“You chicken. All right then, let your grandpa teach you manners.” He was moving toward me.

“Halt!” a few voices shouted. Vice Squad Leader Liu Sheng, Zhao Min, and Wang Longyun emerged. They stopped Gu, pacifying him and hauling him back to the quarters. Though his elbows were struggling, Gu’s legs seemed ready to give in as he followed them away.

Meanwhile he kept cursing, “Chicken, chicken. You dare not fight. All you dare do is steal a blow when others are unprepared. Chicken, how come you lead us men?”

They were out of the drill ground now. I stood there alone, feeling my blood boil. What should I do? Fight bare-handed with him? If I could not beat him, what was the use of fighting that way? They had all seen us just now and must have believed I was afraid of him. What should I do? I had to find a way to stop him. How?

Ten minutes later I rejoined my squad. When I entered the room, the men suddenly stopped talking. Feng Dong was gaping at Gu Gong, who smirked silently while exhaling smoke. I picked up a poker, drilled a few holes through the cinders in the stove, and added three shovels of coal to the flames, which began crackling. Raising my head, I saw Gu standing erect against the pillar of his bed, his chin up and his eyes peering at me. Nobody had made a sound since I came in.

I sat down at the desk, took out a sheet of paper, and started writing. I wrote as follows:

This evening, Soldier Gu Gong challenged Cheng Zhi, Leader of the Eighth Squad of the First Company, to fight bare-handed with him. All having been considered, we realized that a melee does not suit the style of revolutionary soldiers, so we have decided to do it with weapons. Also having considered bullets must be saved for the Russians, we have chosen to use bayonets. When we begin, the whole squad will be present, and we will not stop until one of us cannot resist anymore. If either of us gets wounded or killed in this practice, the victim himself is solely responsible for such a mishap. This contract, drawn on April 15, is here signed by both

Cheng Zhi Gu Gong

I signed my name but couldn’t find red ink paste for a fingerprint, so I used a black ink stick instead and put my thumbprint beneath my name. Then I handed the sheet to Liu Sheng. “Read it out to the whole squad.”

While Liu was reading in a metallic voice, I went to the gun rack and picked up a semiautomatic rifle. The bayonet was pressed down between my forefinger and thumb. Its blade drew a semicircle in the air, and with a clatter it settled firmly on the muzzle. Wiping the bluish bayonet with a rag, I looked at Gu Gong, whose face had turned sallow. Tiny beads of sweat were breaking out on his forehead, and his eyes fixed on the floor. My heart was fluttering.

“I’ll wait for you fellows on the drill ground.” I opened the door and went out.

Once in the hall, I heard Gu cry out inside the room, “He’s an orphan, but I have my old parents at home!” What he said was true.

The gun seemed weightless on my back as I paced about under the poplars, rolling cigarettes and smoking. The breeze was fanning my face and hair. It was good to feel and smell the approach of the spring, which day and night was creeping from the south to the north — to us, and then to Siberia. The purple sky, so vast, curved in every direction toward the serrated hilltops in both China and Russia. I waited at the drill ground for half an hour, until Vice Squad Leader Liu appeared from the dark.

“Gu Gong has buried his head in his quilt,” he said with a smile.

“I’d better not go in now. You stay with the squad. If you want me, go to the study room for me. All right?”

“Sure.”

I thought that our company leaders would reprimand me and order me to write out self-criticism for impairing our solidarity, but when I reported the incident the next day, they didn’t look worried at all. Secretary Ling Ping screwed up one of his eyes and said, “Comrade Cheng Zhi, remember: Never strike the first blow.”

Two months later, I was promoted to command the Second Platoon.

After we cleaned the classroom and spread rice straw along the wall to make a large bed, we — the Thirteenth Squad — had our first meeting. Sitting on the squared timber nailed to the floor to contain the straw, we were introducing ourselves. The squad leader said his name was Lu Hai. Unlike us recruits, he had served in the Fifth Regiment for two years.

Then we introduced ourselves, each in two or three sentences. Jee was the last to speak. “I’m Jee Jun, nineteen, an orphan, from Yushu County, Jilin Province. I joined the army because I’m grateful to the Party and the people who brought me up. The Russian Social-Imperialists have massed over a million troops along our border and attempt to invade our country, so it’s my duty to come and defend the Motherland with my blood and life!”