Hwang Sok-Yong - The Shadow of Arms

After passing over a few times, Cuong gave his opinion. They needed to make a ground survey for a closer look, but that it appeared to him there was another stand of cinnamon trees across the Quoi River, too. The produce from the cinnamon harvest in the region running from An Diem past Ha Thanh toward Tabik, Phuoc Binh and An Hoa ought, he said, to sell for over one hundred million piasters.

“Before this dry season is over we should be able to manage a couple of harvesting operations. The monsoon comes in September, so we have no time to loose. Once the rains come, nothing will be possible until next March.”

“You can have them go on working, can’t you?”

“We can’t keep the soldiers in the field for that long. We’ll have to try to salvage a crop worth fifty million piasters from a shorter intensive operation.”

The corners of Hae Jong’s eyes narrowed as she asked, “And what will be our share?”

“Well. . about ten million, I suppose.”

“Why so little?”

“The area is under the jurisdiction of the Second Division commander, General Van Toan. And from his share something will have to go to the mayor of Hoi An. General Liam will take at least three-fifths, which doesn’t leave much for Cuong and me.”

“But the jungle is so vast, you say. Why not divide the area up?”

“It’s not easy to get workers.”

Hae Jong lit a cigarette, took a long drag, and after thinking for a moment said, “Aren’t the residents of the resettlement villages under your jurisdiction? You can use them.”

“Not a bad idea. Well, I’ll be back. I’ll let you know if we decide to stay up in Ha Thanh.”

Pham Quyen knelt down in the front hall to tie up the laces on his combat boots.

“If I’m not at home,” Hae Jong said from behind him, “come find me at the Sports Club.”

“You mean you’re going back to Madame Lin’s?” Quyen asked in a sullen tone. “What do you do there, anyway? Play cards and flirt with junior American officers?”

“I guess so,” she said, nodding. “The piasters you’ll be bringing in will need to be converted into dollars, and when that accumulates we’ll want to convert it all into a check redeemable abroad. You know we can’t leave the country with cash.”

Pham Quyen sighed. “It seems like you’re in too much of a hurry.”

“Wait and see. We only have a year left. Maybe even not that long.”

“Don’t worry. General Liam will be asked to join the Cabinet.”

Hae Jong pushed him softly. “If he joins the government of Saigon, he’ll change his mount. He doesn’t trust you, never has. You’re his horse in Da Nang, but he’ll have a fresh one waiting in Saigon. I know how things work in high society.”

Pham Quyen got into the Land Rover and was soon driving along Son Tinh beach. It was early in the morning, but already the mist was lifting and lingered visibly only at the distant edge of the forest. He had left home so early not to go to the office, but to pay a visit to the governor of Bai Bang. He passed through downtown, crossed the smokestack bridge, and in high spirits headed toward Monkey Mountain, north of the bay of Da Nang. The Land Rover clung firmly to the road as it crept forward like a scarab. After entering through the main gate to the headquarters compound he took the road to the left, spooking a flock of birds that raucously lifted into the air. The sea seemed rather calm. He passed under the watchtower and pulled into the parking lot. The leader of the sentry detachment, a staff sergeant, saluted him. As usual, Major Pham took out his revolver and handed it over.

“Is the old man here?”

“He is, over there.” Smiling slightly, the sergeant pointed the way. Pham Quyen heard splashing coming from the swimming pool behind the house. The dew on the grass reflected the morning sunlight and the water looked crystal clear against the white tile lining the bottom of the pool. The general’s favorite concubine, half-French, half-Vietnamese, clad in a scarlet bikini, was doing a backstroke across the pool, showing of her smooth, long legs. The general was stretched on a folding chair on the right side of the pool in the shade of some wisteria vines. Pham Quyen stopped a few feet away and saluted.

“Welcome. Come over and sit down,” the general said, taking his sunglasses off and placing them on the table he’d been using as an armrest.

When Quyen looked back, the woman held up one arm and shouted, “Good morning, Major! Come swim with me!”

Pham Quyen answered with a stiff salute and stood next to the general.

“So, the operation starts today?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Pham Quyen, taking a map out of his pocket and unfolding it on the table. “MAC will provide helicopter support and the Second Division will supply combat forces, using Ha Thanh and An Hoa as base camps. We’ll mobilize trucks, bulldozers, and tanks. The areas with concentrations of cinnamon are here, and here.” He pointed to the highlands area where the Thu Bon River forked into two tributaries.

“I called Major General Van Toan myself.”

“Yes sir, I’m aware. I’m supposed to meet him at An Hoa. The official reason for this operation will be the pacification of the refugee settlements at An Diem and An Hoa. An Diem is to be a test zone for the phoenix hamlets projects, and the Developmental Revolution Committee has planned to establish a large-scale industrial complex at An Hoa by resettling rural farmers. Deforestation is a necessary step to make the jungle farmable.”

“We should have a security battalion set up a base for defending and controlling An Diem and An Hoa districts.”

“I am sure we can mobilize troops from elsewhere in Quang Nam Province, sir.”

The Chinese cook brought out a tray heaping with fruit and cookies. The woman got out of the pool dripping with water. Pham Quyen picked up a towel from the back of a chair and wrapped it around her.

“ Merci. ” She dried her wet hair with the towel. “What are you two plotting?”

“Take my helicopter. And next time you should accompany us on our trip to Saigon.”

“I would be honored to, sir.”

General Liam picked up a cold slice of melon and mumbled, “At least now we’re spending our time on a worthwhile enterprise. In Saigon, everything’s in a chaos. That’s what worries the president. He had announced that the military government should step aside as soon as possible, but it’s only been a few months since the election and he’s already complaining about the corruption.”

“When things are rushed, there’s bound to be collateral damage,” Pham Quyen said gravely.

“Which is why I’m counting on you,” the general readily agreed. “Both General Nguyen Phu Quoc and Dang Van Quang, who fell out of the prime minister’s favor last year, were dismissed because they ignored the general consensus. Quoc has twelve children and always seemed to have a new girlfriend. Those close to him knew about the real estate swindles for a long time. Now he’s in Taiwan.”

“So he slipped away. What’s he doing there?”

“He’s arranging overseas business for some of the politicians and active-duty generals with whom he was connected here. Quang is back in the government, acting as a commercial deputy for the president.” General Liam scrutinized Pham Quyen with a piercing stare. “After all, that’s what it’s like in Saigon. We’re too far away here. You should also quit active duty. And work for me abroad.”

“Are you preparing to join the Cabinet, sir?”

“I’m preparing for many different things. The key is to choose the right line. There has not as yet been any conflict between His Excellency and the vice-president, but the balance of power is tense. To lose the favor of either side would not be good. You can’t ignore the young generals on the side of the reformers, but neither can you slight practical power. I’m afraid it’ll cost a lot.”