Hwang Sok-Yong - The Shadow of Arms

“Let’s go over there. Major Krapensky is our general commander,” Kang said.

They went to the last room at the end of the corridor. Three civilians were sitting inside. An American wearing a black T-shirt was busy typing and an Asian, apparently the detachment leader, was in a plain shirt. Sitting next to him was an American in a white suit with no tie. Yong Kyu saluted stiffly, but looked awkward, as his hand did not reach all the way to the brim of his hat. Fortunately, before he started shouting, Kang spoke in Korean.

“This is the new man who arrived today. He’s my replacement, sir.”

The Korean captain was a man in his thirties with a short crew cut and a broad-shouldered, sturdy build.

“If you’re replacing Blue Jacket Kang, you’re going to have a lot of responsibility. Do your best. Kang, when are you going back down to brigade?”

“In a week, sir.”

“Until then, teach him all the detailed tactics of his assignment.”

Then he turned to the American in the white suit and said in English, “Here’s our new man. He arrived today.”

As Yong Kyu saluted, the man got up and extended his strong, hairy hand.

“I’m Major Krapensky, welcome.”

The hand clasped Yong Kyu’s. The major with the Slavic name continued, “I was in Korea for two years. I know the country well.”

The man had an authoritative way about him, Yong Kyu noticed.

“Let me also introduce you to Lucas,” the captain said.

Behind him, Yong Kyu heard a voice speak in Korean: “My name is Sergeant Lucas. I’m a marine like you.”

“Hello,” Yong Kyu replied in English, momentarily bewildered. Each was speaking the native language of the other.

“I went to Korean language school in Washington and in Hawaii.”

“Have you ever been to Korea?”

“No. I hope to in the future.”

“Well, let’s head out,” the captain said, getting up.

When they got back to their office, the captain said more familiarly, “You saw it, didn’t you? In this building you have to watch what you’re saying even in our language. After all, we are only guests. Kang, show him around the PX.”

“Which one, sir?”

“All three of them. Starting tomorrow, put him on duty at each, one by one, and take him through the market the day before you leave.”

“We’ve got big trouble brewing at the supply warehouse.”

“But we have Sergeant Shin posted out there.”

“The guy is incompetent,” Kang said.

The captain nodded and they all left the office. It was already almost evening.

“Let’s go to the Air Force PX first. That’s the most important one.”

They turned the Jeep toward the airfield. Yong Kyu glanced quickly in the rearview mirror. Amazingly enough, the odor of death seemed to have left him. Already he was transformed from a man-killing soldier into a tourist.

Blue Jacket Kang was a diligent teacher. “Loads of goods are pouring out from the air force PX because it has no checkpoints and is closest to downtown. There’s a new sergeant now, and I haven’t had the chance to make friends with him. I made some good deals with the last one.”

Kang ignored the traffic signal and sped straight across the intersection.

“Do the Americans do stuff like that too?”

Blue Jacket Kang snickered at the naiveté of the question.

“Haven’t you been listening? Didn’t I say that they do economic operations? They get assigned here with official operational orders from their headquarters. You’ll run into them often enough in the future. Stay out of their way. Our job is to identify whether the partners of the black marketeers are operational teams or just money-grubbing bastards.”

“Then. . what about Korean soldiers?”

Kang answered the question with a feeble laugh. “On principle, we’re not allowed. We’re here to fight, not make money.”

“Have we really come to fight?”

“You’re going to get on my nerves. We’re a poor country. We have to eat. Everyone does what they can. You gulp down one case and let somebody else help himself to the other. Or you can team up with them. . there are no rules for that kind of thing. As for civilians, there’re a few Korean technicians, but let them be since they are only small fry going after a little pocket money for drinks or women.

“The big fish are elsewhere. The soldiers discharged on-site and the entrepreneurs running companies specialized in black market trading. There are three such Korean companies in Da Nang. Of them the strongest is what they call the Hong Kong Group. Its president is a former lieutenant colonel. His right-hand man, known as ‘Pig,’ used to be a smuggler who ran goods between Busan and Tsushima Island. A crafty man, that one, so be careful not to get taken in. Then they have half a dozen men for a suicide squad. All of them are magicians in underground trading. They rent houses in the Vietnamese residential districts and live with Vietnamese women. Hang around Dragon Palace or the Bamboo and you’ll learn about them.

“Our rule is this. We more or less close our eyes to the black market dealings by Koreans. But we don’t allow them to do any big deals — those we take over for ourselves instead. Of the deals done by Korean civilians, we only watch and keep records. When we uncover a big transaction, we allow it to run its course to the last stage of the delivery before we move in on them. Don’t ever take a bite of theirs yourself. If we show any weakness to them, we’ll be scarecrows before long, so drag them straight to the headquarters.

“As for deals by Americans, if the economic team is involved, make a list of the exact content of commodities, the names of the dealers and the date of the transaction and report it to headquarters. That’s where your duty ends. Those are matters to be negotiated between our captain and Krapensky. We can, however, ambush the petty deals by American soldiers and feel free to take a cut of their profit. Sometimes we even snatch the whole thing out of their hands. The goods confiscated from third-country nationals, we split fifty-fifty.”

“Third countries?”

“I mean civilians from the Philippines, Malaysia, or India. Once in a while you also run into the Japanese.”

“What about the Vietnamese?”

“That’s the most important and delicate part of our duty. It took me two months just to begin to understand that side. Roughly, you can divide goods into three groups: luxury goods, daily necessities, and war materiel. The luxury goods and the daily necessities are the two categories we are allowed to interfere with. The war materiel gets covered by the Vietnamese army and the National Liberation Front. As for our records of the Vietnamese, we share nothing with the Americans. We may be comrades-in-arms, but in this one matter we’re all tight-lipped. This is crucial, because as long as we’re on the inside of Vietnamese affairs, we can get in on any black market deals. It’s as fundamental for the American army as for the Vietnamese army. Understand?”

Blue Jacket Kang was sweating. Hands on the wheel, he kept wiping the sweat from his forehead on his shoulder. A sweltering heat was rising from the asphalt. The Jeep turned up a road with high wire fencing on both sides. Scooters and Honda motorcycles performed acrobatic tricks, weaving from side to side. Keeping his speed, Kang was forced to do some fancy maneuvering himself.

“I asked if you understand. .”

“I’m not sure I do.”

Kang heaved a long sigh. “No way you could. You’re lucky, though, to have run into somebody with my experience. I wasted three months riding the circuit and drinking Cokes out in front of the PXs. There’s no integrity or camaraderie among short-time duty personnel. Everybody is trying to be tactful so as not to come off as an idiot. Once you become an “advisor” you’ll be chased to the main body. You know what duty you’ll pull when you get assigned to the main body, don’t you?”