Hwang Sok-Yong - The Shadow of Arms

Stanley: The massacre began spontaneously with no warning. One from the platoon was pushing a Vietnamese in civilian clothes and just stabbed him from behind with a bayonet. The Vietnamese collapsed on the ground, gasping for breath. So many people got killed that day it’s hard to remember how they died. After he finished bayoneting that man, Carter dragged out another man in his fifties who had been captured, dumped him into a well and then threw a live grenade down after him. Then we went over to a kind of public hall where incense was burning and found about twenty old women and children crouching together there. They were all shot with a few volleys of gunfire. The villagers didn’t really try to resist. When about eighty were rounded up in the village square, they all begged for mercy, shouting “We no VC! We no VC!”

Boyce: Lt. Calley handed the villagers over to us and said, “You know how I want you to handle this!”

Sledge: “Clean up the trash!” was Calley’s order to us.

Boyce: We were about ten or fifteen feet away from them when Lt. Calley opened fire first. We had to use four or five twenty-bullet clips apiece.

To Chuok: I’m forty-eight years old. I’ve seen all the wars. I make my living as a farmer. I have no interest in the Liberation Front or in the ARVN. All my life I’ve been praying for the smoke of the war to go far, far away from our village. That day when the American soldiers came to our village, our family was eating breakfast. As ordered by the soldiers, we left our house and along with many others swarmed into the square. The Americans made us gather closer and sit down. Even then we had no reason to fear them. We were joking and laughing, nobody showing any sign of alarm. Only when we saw them setting up machine guns did we sense what was going on and begin to wail and beg for mercy. Some of us showed the Americans our government ID cards, but they only said “Sorry.” The firing began. I was hit in the leg but got buried under the corpses and kept my life by playing dead. In a few seconds I lost my wife and two daughters. After lying there about an hour, I pushed my way out from under the dead bodies and ran into the jungle. None of them felt any danger at first. The villagers even welcomed the soldiers. I’ve lost my village and my family forever. There’s nowhere for me to return to. Never again will I welcome American soldiers.

Conti: We were all nervous and excited. Once the firing started, it went on and on in a kind of chain reaction. Most of us thought we would be engaged with enemy combat troops, but it didn’t work out that way. At first, we saw a few men running away, but before we knew what we were doing, we found ourselves recklessly gunning down everyone in sight. It was like collective madness. Everybody was firing. When we went into that village, the command system broke down and everyone was swept up in that strange burning fever.

Brooks: Upon hearing the gunfire, we, the 2nd platoon, rushed into the village and started killing and destroying at random, shooting our flamethrowers everywhere.

West: We, the 3rd platoon, intercepted some villagers who were scared by the sound of shooting and trying to run away in all directions. We shot them. It was useless for them to try to escape the envelopment because the gunships were waiting in the air just overhead. We thought there was a firefight underway with enemy forces in the hamlet. That crazy bastard Lt. Calley is responsible for that. By 0815 Capt. Medina was right behind my 3rd platoon.

Medina: Until after 1000. I had not set foot in the village, and I hadn’t killed a single civilian.

Carter: As he entered My Lai, Medina did shoot a few civilians to death. As the 3rd platoon was entering the hamlet, we found a woman and someone had forced her down on the ground. Capt. Medina shot her with his M16. I saw the scene from about fifty feet away. There was no need to shoot her. Then we ran into a soldier who had rounded up about twenty Vietnamese — men, women and children — and Medina ordered the soldier to “kill them all, down to the last one.” Later Medina caught a boy of about seventeen who was driving a water buffalo. He yelled at the boy to run away, but the boy just stood there. Then Medina just started firing at the boy with his rifle.

[At this point the CID investigator warned Carter that he was making grave accusations against his commanding officer, but Carter insisted upon continuing.]

What I have said about Medina is the truth. I swear that my statement is the truth.

Concluding Comments

The investigation did not clearly resolve the question whether the company commander gave orders to the platoon leaders to kill at random. It was confirmed, however, that Capt. Medina was present at the scene of the incident. Included in this file are photographs taken by two reporters, Roberts and Haeberle. They eventually will be disclosed to the public. There are dozens of photos of dead animals, dead human beings, and village dwellings ablaze. One photo of a soldier shooting children aged six and seven. One photo of a dead boy on top of his younger brother’s corpse. Capt. Medina’s report at the time stated that fifty Viet Cong were killed and twenty suspects captured. This case will be a propaganda windfall for the Liberation Front and they are sure to exploit it politically. Four hundred fifty civilians were shot. The case should not be concealed, rather it must be examined in full view and those concerned treated strictly under military law.

The concept of “search-and-destroy” missions is thought to be in need of qualification. It is imperative to collect information in detail on as many cases as possible of massacres committed by the Liberation Front in order to publicize those fratricidal atrocities.

“Air! Air!” the guide shouted.

With inured skill the bicycles and bundles instantly were covered with camouflage nets and all the fighters in the file hit the ground, taking cover in the leaves. The noise of whirring helicopter propellers came closer. They turned out to be observation aircraft rather than an attack formation. It was a reconnaissance mission of three choppers. Escorted by two small gunships, a camera-equipped helicopter was methodically covering that whole region of the jungle. When it came upon a clearing, the helicopter hovered in a circle for a while as if to peer down narrow paths and point its cameras under the canopy of trees on the fringes. Meantime, the gunships fired occasional bursts with their machine guns — neutralization fire.

Pham Minh was sprawled among the bushes with the other fighters. In the course of basic training at the Temporary Atwat Military School, he learned methods of concealment and survival on long marches down the Ho Chi Minh Trail. A comrade lying near him shrugged his shoulders then stuffed a red handkerchief into his own mouth. Muffled coughing followed. Taking out his canteen Pham Minh unscrewed the top and held it out to him. The man nodded in thanks and hastily gulped down a few mouthfuls.

They were marching along a mountain ridge near the Laotian border. For security reasons, the Atwat Military School was divided into two units; the basic training phase was conducted apart from more advanced training courses. The two locations were about twenty-five miles apart, making it a day-and-a-half march from one to the other. Their group was forty-eight in all, including the guide and a political officer.

The Seventieth Transport Division of the regular forces of the North Vietnamese Army was in charge of movements along the trail. At the beginning and end of each day’s march there were rest areas with food and beds and medical treatment. The group was split into three sections for the march, and each unit was spread out in a long double file, with at least fifteen feet between individuals. Before departure they scouted the immediate area and received briefings on any operations or changes of situation between there and the next stopping place. Anything unusual would delay departure until the situation could be assessed.