Hwang Sok-Yong - The Shadow of Arms

“What about the tank fire?” asked the battalion commander.

“I believe there’s an engagement in the jungle in the southern Tungdik area. It’s support for those forces, sir.”

“How much longer will this take?” asked Pham Quyen.

The company leader thought for a while before responding. “The problem is the ravines, sir. Even in daytime it’s dark in there and there are a lot of natural caves. I agree with the plan to sweep in simultaneously from here and from Quang Lung, but I’m afraid one platoon from each end will not be sufficient, sir. If we can get reinforcements from another battalion equipped with armored personnel carriers, then we can mop up within a week.”

“No need for reinforcements. We have artillery support, don’t we?”

The other major responded with a question. “Pacification will be difficult with cannons alone, won’t it, sir?”

“We have to drive them off, so there’s no chance of a counterattack.”

Trucks were approaching the bridge, raising thick clouds of dust. Looking out through a shooting hole in the bunker wall, the battalion commander said, “Transport the refugees to town.”

“Yes, sir.”

Once the company commander was gone, the battalion commander asked Major Pham, “Don’t you think we’re trying for the impossible?”

“What do you mean?”

“An operation of this scale would take about a month, even with US military support. We’ll need two weeks to secure the strongholds and another two to sort out and resettle the displaced residents.”

“There’s no need for that,” Pham Quyen said firmly, “because we’ll be pulling out.”

“Pulling out, sir?” the battalion commander blurted out in shock, then murmured to himself, “Then, why undertake an operation like this. .”

Pham Quyen was silent. The battalion commander, quick-witted, said no more. When a lightning operation such as this one took place, the residents bore the brunt of the damage. The basis of their livelihood in the mountain jungles had been devastated in a few days. After the pullout there would be no compensation or countermeasures, and the NLF and the North Vietnamese Army would move in immediately and furnish medical care, help them reconstruct their villages, fuel their hatred for the ARVN and make them loyal supporters. In the present circumstances, a pullout would mean that they could never again hope to bring the area under the rule of the South Vietnamese government. Gradually, the enemy forces in the region would swell.

Outside, trucks were turning around in the open field, full of villagers who had all their shabby household goods on their backs and in their hands. They moved silently, without shouting or weeping. Even the little children never cried. The company commander came back inside.

“I feel relieved,” he said. “It’s done.”

“Was that all of the villagers?” the battalion commander asked.

“No, that’s not even half of them,” said the company commander, shrugging his shoulders. “The rest will be over there.”

He turned his head and, with his chin, pointed vaguely. Outside, the bombing seemed to have ceased and it was relatively quiet.

“Sir, shall I bring the meal in here?” An orderly said from the door of the bunker.

The company commander replied, “No, we’ll have it outside. Would you care to eat, sir?”

“Is it rations?” Pham Quyen asked.

“No, sir. I believe it’ll be something special.”

The company commander put on his helmet and they walked outside. Down the levee in the field, a fire had been built with broken ration crates and iron pots were hanging over it on a makeshift rack. The soldiers were filing past by squads to get rice and other food. There were some kitchen utensils, apparently taken from private houses in the nearby village. In the shade under some palm trees, a mat had been spread out and a table set for the officers. There was boiled chicken, pickled vegetables with nuoc mam , salad, and even a local wine sealed in earthenware urns. The wine must have been dug up from somewhere, for there was still damp clay stuck on the bottom of the urns.

“Field operations are tough, but then they sometimes have their own charm, like this,” the battalion commander said to Major Pham.

“There’s a wizard in each company who manages to conjure up some precious provisions,” the company commander remarked. “They say it takes a special nose to sniff out the wine and liquor.”

After the meal they sat there and drank a green tea the orderly had brewed over the fire. A message came in over the wireless. The company commander took the communication himself.

“We’ve got a problem, sir,” he said to the battalion commander. “During the search of the village they found a lot of civilians in the air raid shelter.”

“Can’t they be transported?”

“No, sir. We have neither the manpower nor the time. At this rate, it’ll be dark by the time the sweep through the village is over. But we can’t just leave them where they are.”

“Any precedent for this?” Pham Quyen asked.

The company commander hesitated. “If there are reserve forces or another detachment available, they can lead them over for transport, sir.”

“I’ll leave it to your discretion,” Pham Quyen said to the battalion commander.

“Shall I order a platoon to come back in from the Tungdik area, sir?”

All three men knew that that made no sense. The company was now in the middle of a village that had just been demolished. Pham Quyen came up with a phrase that fit the situation perfectly.

“Respond that evacuation will not be necessary.”

The company commander picked up the transceiver and repeated: “This is HQ, no need to evacuate. This is HQ, no need to evacuate.”

On the other end a voice said, “I read you, out.” The wireless then was cut off. The three men sat in silence for a while.

“Let’s head back to Ha Thanh.”

Pham Quyen was the first to rise. The two majors got back in their Jeeps and drove off to the east along the river. They entered the town and then stopped on the street on the way to the district office.

“I’m going on to An Hoa. I’ll see General Van Toan and return here by evening.”

“Have a pleasant trip, sir,” the battalion commander said, and then added, “I understand that the order you gave earlier was inevitable.”

Major Pham had turned to leave, but he stopped and glared back at the battalion commander. “What is that supposed to mean?” he asked. The battalion commander seemed to be passing judgment.

“The ultimate responsibility for this operation lies with the corps and division commanders,” Pham Quyen spat at him. “Full credit for the victory will go to the field commander — you.”

Day three of the operation. The command post at Bien Jiang had been attacked by the enemy and the fighting in the Tungdik area was over. On the An Hoa side, a search-and-destroy force had been sent out to deal with the two riverside villages between Tabik and Quang Lung, and had succeeded in taking one village. In Quang Lung, another platoon was standing by for mobilization and was to move into the ravines with another platoon coming up from Lien Hiep. The main combat company at Ha Thanh was going to cut over southeast to the Tung Duk region, while the company from An Hoa was set to sweep down from Bien Daio to the southwest, veering to the right of Hill 3383, and then wait there at the northeast corner of the maze of ravines to link up with the search-and-destroy platoons converging from Quang Lung and Lien Hiep.

The entire morning, 155 mm artillery from the support division had been carpeting the ravine area with shells. On the initial day of operations, the bombardment had aimed only to intimidate, but now the shelling was saturation-style, with explosions spaced only thirty feet apart. The shells were mainly high explosives, white phosphorus, and jellied gas. The goal of the bombardment was to demolish the jagged surface topography of the ravines and to collapse the natural caves beneath. No matter how well the NLF and North Vietnamese hideouts had been concealed, they would be unable to withstand this attack. As General Van Toan had said, an artillery barrage of this intensity would permanently change the topography of the area.