Hwang Sok-Yong - The Shadow of Arms

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A novel of the black markets of the South Vietnamese city of Danang during the Vietnam War, based on the author’s experiences as a self-described South Korean mercenary on the side of the South Vietnamese, this is a Vietnam War novel like no other, truly one that sees the war from all sides. Scenes of battle are breathtakingly well told. The plot is thick with intrigue and complex subplots. But ultimately
is a novel of the human condition rather than of the exploits and losses of one side or the other in war.

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“What will I be selling?”

“Whatever the rich of Da Nang want to buy.”

Pham Minh tilted the bottle back again and downed a few more gulps. After a deep sigh, he spat out the words he had been trying to repress. “I didn’t join the Front to sell American goods to the rich, sir.”

Without a hint of surprise, Thach calmly asked, “What, then, do you want to do, Comrade?”

Pham Minh didn’t know what to say at first. Then the weight and clatter of rifles came to mind. “I joined to fight, sir.”

Nguyen Thach smiled. “You will, I expect, at the time of the great offensive. But you’ve been assigned here as an assistant agent because your actual circumstances are perfectly conducive for such a mission. That each person plays a fitting and proper functional role to achieve the larger goals is the basis for maximizing the operational strength of the Liberation Front. Through the long experience of the struggle against the French, the Front has been striving through pragmatic methods to secure realistically advantageous ground throughout our nation.

“Depending on the overall advantage, at various times our men may become pilots flying enemy bombers, or high-ranking enemy officers, or even interrogators of prisoners. The real question is whether the man is unconditionally under the control of the organization. Not long ago, in fact, fighting was not such an important mission, rather it was secondary.”

“If fighting was not such an important mission at a time when the crack divisions of the enemy and their missiles were swarming onto the beaches of Vietnam, then what was the NLF’s mission?”

Pham Minh’s tone was one of protest. Thach’s reply was gentle.

“What was important was that all the young people of Vietnam like you, even the small children, came to know the name of the Front as their own organization. The NLF calls it the mission of objectification. The people must know that the Front actually exists as the main power of the people, and that is more crucial than storming trenches or bombing police stations. Now, let’s drop the unnecessary talk. You and I have been given a mission, which is to figure out how to trade successfully and save money for the organization by securing better lines of supply.”

Thach opened the desk drawer again and took out a pack of cigarettes. He held it out, but Minh declined. Thach lit a long Pall Mall and seemed to relish it as he smoked.

“Comrade, I kept you behind here because there is something I should tell you. You should know in advance that your older brother Major Pham Quyen, on behalf of General Liam, is making a great deal of money by engaging in all sorts of black market trading and concessions.”

“My brother is that kind of a man.”

“And, Major Pham is connected to me.”

His eyes widening, Pham Minh felt himself choking as he stammered, “Do you mean. . my brother is connected with the Front?”

“Don’t get excited. Major Pham is not that kind of man. My own older brother is one of the top merchants in Le Loi market. Apart from money affairs, he is a very good-natured and foolish man. You could say he’s like a ghost from the days of the old Cochinchina dynasty. He’s the kind who prays for old Emperor Bao Dai to return to life and resurrect the family’s trading concessions. In a colonial city like Da Nang, that my brother and yours should become business associates is only too natural. They match each other perfectly. Their dealings seem to be getting more active and the goods they are handling will also be diversified. To get yourself a job in this office, you, Comrade, should observe the formalities of going through your brother. Say you want to be of help with his work, or that you need to earn money. Make some plea convincing enough to persuade your brother.”

“My brother always planned for me to go to Malaysia or Thailand and open a private clinic and settle down.”

“Then, this will do. Tell him you want to earn money so you can go study abroad. Be careful not to arouse any suspicion.”

“Yes, sir.”

Nguyen Thach got up from his chair. “We’ve talked a lot today. I hope everything can be done by Monday. At any rate, let’s solve these things one at a time very carefully.”

They emerged together from the warehouse. Thach pointed toward the iron gate.

“That’s the way out.”

Pham Minh turned around. “How should I address you?”

“Let me see. . I’m senior to you, it’s true, so that’ll do. And, there’s one other thing I forgot to tell you.”

Thach put one hand on Minh’s shoulder and spoke gently. “I own a car service shop to make a living. And in my office there’s a Korean military intelligence agent. Like the Americans, they’re trying their best to gather information on black market dealings. Among other things, that Korean is sure to be nosing around trying to uncover business connections with the Front.”

“I don’t quite understand, sir,” Pham Minh said in a perplexed tone, and Thach’s usual kind smile reappeared on his lips.

“To know the precise location of a land mine is always safest, don’t you agree?”

“I’ll see you on Monday, sir.”

“Take care of yourself.”

Pham Minh left the brick warehouse behind and walked along the blacked-out streets. Every now and then a sentry jumped out of the darkness to check his ID, then let him pass. It happened three times before he reached his house. From outside he could see that a light from the window was casting a milky white glow onto the leaves on the ground. Lei was awake, for he could see from the shadows which room the light came from. Cautiously he tiptoed in through the hedge.

The small front yard exuded a familiar fragrance of flowers. In the dark he could make out that the wisteria was still winding its tendrils around the rails of the porch. Cold droplets of water fell on his face as he brushed past the wisteria leaves. Sister Mi must have watered it that evening. He paused for a moment and then went around the right corner of the house. Light was flooding down brightly from the last window.

With her long hair hanging loose, Lei was sitting by the window, studying. She was wearing a white blouse and silk pants instead of ahozai . The picture of his family did not seem real to Minh. Out at Atwat along the Ho Chi Minh Trail, no scene as peaceful and silent as this was imaginable. This was a shadow of false peace built on the stage of the colonialists, just like the gorgeous gardens of Angkor Wat he had seen in a photograph.

Lei was lucky. Passing through Long Long, Khetinh, and Thatra, Minh had seen countless hamlets left with horrible scars from massacres. There, girls had been trampled, torn, and murdered. The search-and-destroy patrols of the ARVN or the Allied Special Forces regarded the girls in enemy territory as spoils of war. The rapes and other atrocities had provided the most vivid sagas of gallantry at the close of nearly every battle. Ah, Lei, my baby sister. Pham Minh laughed in the dark and steaming tears fell down his cheeks. Standing before that window, Pham Minh realized anew that he had reached adulthood, with no turning back.

“Who’s there?”

Lei must have sensed someone’s presence, for she dropped her book and stuck her startled face out the window.

“Lei. . it’s me,” whispered Pham Minh. Lei was dazed, then she stretched out her hand and fumbled to feel her brother’s face.

“Why, brother. . ”

“Quiet. I’ll climb in.”

He placed his hands up on the windowsill and vaulted up into her room.

“Where are you coming from? From Hanoi?”

Suddenly Lei looked around and then hastened to try to close the window. Minh sat cross-legged on Lei’s bamboo bed.

“Leave it be. Hot, isn’t it? Who’s home?”

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