Hwang Sok-Yong - The Shadow of Arms

“That same old story still? How’s Comrade Banh Hao?”

The young man removed his hat and waved it like a fan in front of his chest to generate a little breeze.

“Same as ever. Buying goods is getting more and more difficult, sir.”

“I understand tax collection is going fairly well.”

“Money’s not the problem. Lately, even the government army is steering clear of dangerous dealings. Firearms are coming in steadily, but the problem is the ammunition and bombs. There are some bombs still coming down the Ho Chi Minh Trail, but the quantities are still not enough. With the shortage, we must supply without fail the bombs to be used in Quang Nam Province.”

Nguyen Thach was well aware that the operations conducted in Da Nang were crucial. The.61 caliber mortar rounds of the US forces could readily be used in larger bore mortars, and 3.5 inch rockets could also be used as is in Chinese launchers. Anyway, most of the weapons used by the local guerrillas were American-made, and the NLF’s fundamental principle was to make use of enemy hardware and ammunition as much as possible.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand, though. Supplies of C-rations and small arms ammo keep falling off.”

“There’s a reason for that. A strong wind is now whirling in the Da Nang black market. Prospects aren’t at all gloomy for us, either.”

“What is it?”

“The phoenix hamlets project. Rice, seed, fertilizer, cattle and all sorts of construction materials have begun to pour out. They’re already flowing into cities all over Quang Nam and I’m sure they’re heading to other provinces, too. It’s only natural that business in the market tends to focus upon those transactions.”

“We’re dealing with units of the government forces,” said the agent from the market across the river in the shadow of the smokestack, cocking his head.

“Maybe the problem is with the middlemen. I bet they are getting their share of this new unlimited flow of materials and are selling it in the markets. No need now for them to expose themselves to risky dealings.”

“Probably a passing phenomenon. Don’t people still say that you can even buy disassembled tanks and helicopters in the Da Nang black market?”

Nguyen Thach beamed and said playfully, “Business has already entered a new phase. We’re talking enormous quantities now.”

“How much?”

“I’m told about three hundred hamlets are to be created. New settlements with from fifty to one hundred houses each are already under construction. In Quang Nam Province alone, there will be three hundred such new settlements.”

“Three, three hundred?” The agent seemed shocked.

“Doesn’t it mean that NLF-controlled zones will be diminished and local fighters will lose their cover?”

“No. . just the opposite. Within three months we’ll be controlling all the phoenix hamlets, just as we did with the strategic hamlets before. The peasants will learn to think of the hamlets as encampments on the American or Saigon side. The people will never be pried away from us. What’s more, we should keep in mind the fact that each hamlet is to have an armed militia. The enemy is helping us by giving the local people military training as well as guns and ammunition.”

The sergeant swallowed his tea. “It’s an immense, rich lode of ore to mine!”

“It is. Still, mines and detonators, mortar shells and rifle cartridges, the latest model US automatic weapons, those are problems we’ll have to solve for ourselves.”

“By then we’ll have secured heavier firepower. I expect ammunition supplies will increase to reflect the new manpower.”

“Yes, so don’t be moaning and groaning too loudly. From now on we won’t have time to blink. First things first, right? I’ve received orders to supply armaments for the reinforcements. I hope you’re ready.”

The agent took out a piece of paper from his pocket and read it. “Subject: Weapon requisition for Fourth Company of 434th Special Action Group in the Third Special District. Five submachine guns, three M2 carbines, four.45 pistols, and three.38 revolvers. That’s all, sir. Hand grenades, plastics and detonators will be supplied later, when required for planned missions.”

“Those items should be furnished by them on their own. Any luck with a C79 rocket launcher?”

“We managed to buy a couple, but we sent them to the Quang Ngai District first.”

“We’ve got to try harder to get hold of the newer model American equipment.”

“The crucial thing,” the agent said, “is to centralize the supply channel. We’ll be looking forward to help from the new cell member operating in the old Le Loi market. As for current supplies, we’ve been able to keep a flow along the Thu Bon River. By the way, how is the new man? Is he reliable?”

“Not only is he reliable, he’s got all kinds of excellent connections. Best of all, he’s out on active duty, just like you, not a barracks man. He’s enlisted in the air force, assigned to the American air base in Da Nang. His background is as solid as they come. His older brother is none other than the adjutant to General Liam.”

“You mean Major Pham Quyen? Comrade Banh Hao will be surprised. Is the district council also aware of this?”

“Yes, they have the details. When he volunteered to join the NLF, the recruiting officer at Hue University included the details on his recommendation and submitted the report to higher authorities.”

The waiter stuck his face inside the bead curtain. “Mr. Pham Minh has arrived, sir.”

“Send him back here.”

As he walked inside, Minh shot a wary glance at the sergeant in ARVN uniform.

“Say hello,” Thach said. “This here is the army and you, Comrade, are the air force, aren’t you? So that puts the two of you on the same side.”

The sergeant held out his hand to Pham Minh.

“Comrade Pham Minh, pleased to meet you. My name is Le Muong Panh, I work down in the smokestack market.”

Minh felt shy as he grasped the tip of the hand of the sergeant who looked to be five or six years his senior.

“I am Pham Minh.”

“Graduate of the military training course at Atwat?”

“Yes, I am.”

“You’re from the North, I think?” said Nguyen Thach.

“That’s right, from Dong Hoi training camp.”

Le Muong Panh nodded slowly as if it were only natural. Dong Hoi was in operation even before the American intervention, which would make him a veteran among the guerrillas. He must have spent at least five years walking the thin line between life and death in the jungle and the city. Minh remembered that his friend Tanh, who had recruited him and was now fighting in the Second Special District up in Hue, also was from Dong Hoi.

“I need your guidance in many ways, sir,” Minh said earnestly.

Thach picked up Le’s things and handed them to Minh. “Let’s get this job done quickly. Comrade Pham, cross the river with Comrade Le and bring the goods over here. You can leave them in the warehouse.”

“Now, sir?”

“Yes. You’ll be going to the store run by Comrade Banh Hao often. Be a good partner for Comrade Le.”

The three men exited the pub through the front door. Nguyen Thach j scanned the street and soon a man in a collarless shirt and khaki shorts ran toward him. He was chewing on a sweet rice cake wrapped in a banana leaf.

“You have a car?”

“Didn’t you bring your van, sir?”

“A three-wheeler is probably better.”

Considering the nature of the goods to be transported, Thach thought it would be advisable to be inconspicuous. A van would be expected for moving a refrigerator or electric appliances, but grain and vegetables would be more likely to be carried on a three-wheeler. Thach signaled with his eyes to Le and Minh.