Ha Jin - Ocean of Words

He opened his big mouth, but he didn’t say anything, as if he swallowed down some words that had been stuck in his throat. The word demobilized must have struck him hard, because a soldier like him from the countryside would work diligently in order to be promoted to officer’s rank. It would be a misfortune to return to his poor home village, where no job waited for him; if he had no job, no girl would marry him. But with such a stigma in his record, Liu Fu’s future in the army was fixed: He would never be an officer.

Two days later he turned in his self-criticism. On eight white sheets were lines of big scrawled words and a few ink stains. A country boy like him of course couldn’t say extraordinary things. His language was plain, and many sentences were broken. The gist of his self-criticism was that he had not worked hard enough to purge the bourgeois ideology from his head and that he had contracted the disease of liberalism. The Seventh Rule for the Army stated clearly: “Nobody is allowed to take liberties with women,” but he had forgotten Chairman Mao’s instruction and violated the rule. He also had forgotten his duty as a soldier staying on the Northern Frontier: When the enemies were sharpening their teeth and grinding their sabers at the border, he was indulging himself in sexual pleasure. He was unworthy of the nurture of the Party, unworthy of the Motherland’s expectation, unworthy of his parents’ efforts to raise him, unworthy of the gun that the people had entrusted to his hands, unworthy of his new green uniform.

I knew he was not a glib man, so I spared him the trouble of putting more self-scathing words in writing. His attitude was sincere; this alone counted.

He looked a little comforted when I told him that I would try to persuade Secretary Chang to ask the Regimental Political Department to administer less severe punishment to him. “This is not over yet,” I warned him, “but you mustn’t take it as a heavy burden. Try to turn over a new leaf and work hard to make up for it.”

He said he was grateful and would never forget my help.

Two weeks passed. We had not heard anything from the Political Department about Liu Fu’s case. Neither the Party secretary nor the company commander ever requested an action. It would be unwise to do that, because the longer we waited the more lenient the punishment would be. Time would take away the interest and the urgency of the case. In fact, none of the company leaders would welcome a severe action against Liu Fu. Liu was their man; no good leader would like to see his own man being punished.

A month passed, and still nothing happened. Liu Fu seemed very patient and was quieter than before. To prevent him from being involved with Little White Fairy again, we kept him at Mati Mountain on weekends. We were also strict about permitting other men, especially new soldiers, to visit Hutou Town.

One night it was my turn to make the rounds through all our sentry posts, checking the men on duty to make sure they didn’t doze off. We had five posts, including the new one at the storehouse where we kept our food and a portion of our ammunition. I hated to do the supervision at midnight, when you had to jump out of bed and pretend to be as awake as a cat. If you didn’t look spirited in front of them, the men on duty would follow your example and make no effort to stay awake.

I went to the parking yard first, where our trucks and mortars stood, and caught the sentry smoking in the dark. I ordered him to put out his cigarette. The boy complained it was too cold and he couldn’t keep his eyelids apart if he had nothing to do. I told him that everybody had to stand his hours on cold nights. Nobody but the Lord of Heaven was to blame for the cold. As for his sleepiness, he’d better bear in mind that we were merely four li away from the Russians. If he didn’t stay alert, he put his own neck at risk. The Russians often sent over their agents to find out our sentry positions and deployment. They would get rid of a sentry if they found it necessary and convenient. So for his own safety, he’d better keep his eyes open and not show them where he was.

Next I went to the gate post and our headquarters. Everything was fine at these two places. I chatted with each of the men for a few minutes and gave them some roasted sunflower seeds. Then I left for the storehouse.

The post was empty there, so I waited inside the house, believing the sentry must have been urinating or emptying his bowels somewhere outside.

After ten minutes nobody showed up. I began to worry and was afraid something unusual might have happened. I couldn’t shout to summon the sentry over. That was the last thing you would do at night, because it would wake up the whole company and the Russians might hear it as well. But I had to find out where the soldier had hidden himself. He must have been dozing away somewhere. There were no disordered footprints in the snow; it was unlikely that he had been kidnapped or murdered. I picked up a line of footprints that looked new and followed it for a little distance. They were heading toward our stable. I raised my eyes and saw a dim light at the skylight on the stable’s roof. Somebody must be there. What’s he up to in the stable? Who is on duty? I looked at my luminous watch — 1:30 — and couldn’t recall who the sentry was.

Getting close to the door, I heard some noise inside, so I hastened my steps. With my rifle I raised the cotton door curtain to take a look inside and make sure no one was hiding behind the door waiting to knock me down.

It was Liu Fu! He was standing beside our gray mule buckling his belt. His gun leaned against the long manger, and his fur hat hung on its muzzle. Beyond the mule stood a dozen horses, asleep with downcast heads. So he is the sentry. The rascal, he’s using the stable as a latrine. How luxurious, keeping his butt warm in here.

No. I noticed something unusual. Behind the gray mule’s hindquarters was a bench. On the bench there were some particles of snow and some wet smudges. The beast! He has been screwing the mule! Looking at him, I found his sweating face distorted with an awkward but clear expression, as if saying to me: I can’t help it, please, I can’t help it!

I sprang at him and grabbed him by the front of his jacket. Though he was much bigger and stronger than I was, I felt him go limp in my hand. Of course, a spent beast. I started slapping his face and cursing. “You — mule fucker! You never give your cock a break! I’ll geld you today and throw your itchy balls to the dogs!”

He didn’t resist and merely moaned, as if my cursing and slapping made him feel better. He looked so ashamed. Not encountering any resistance, I soon cooled down. You couldn’t go on for long beating a man who didn’t even raise his hands to defend himself. I let him go and ordered, “Back to the storehouse. We’ll settle it tomorrow.”

He picked up his gun, wiped away the tears on his cheeks with his hat, and went out quietly. In the stable all the animals were awake now, their eyes open and their ears raised. One horse snorted.

I couldn’t wait for tomorrow and had Li Yaoping, Liu Fu’s squad leader, awakened. We had to talk before I reported this to our Party secretary. I wanted to know more about Liu Fu. It was understandable if you screwed a girl in the town, because there was no woman on the mountain. But to screw a dumb animal like that, who could imagine it! It nauseated me.

Li was not completely awake when he came into my room. I gave him a cigarette and struck a match for him. “Sit down. I want to talk with you.”

He sat on a stool and began smoking. “What do you want to talk about on a dark — ” He looked at his watch. “It’s already half past two in the morning.”