Hwang Sok-Yong - The Shadow of Arms

“Stand up. A short walk from here you’ll find corpses strewn all over. But you and I will just serve our time and get the hell out of this country, that’s all. Today’s mission is important. Why don’t you do as you’re told? When I go home, I’ll be rid of this uniform and that’ll be the end of it, but meantime I don’t want to get kicked back down to platoon. You don’t want that either, do you? Make sure those American bastards don’t crush us flat, you hear?”

“I understand, sir.”

“Hurry up, follow me.”

Yong Kyu looked around again and then hurried over to the old Jeep. The private ran behind. They drove back to Dong Dao junction. On the way Yong Kyu asked, “Hurt much?”

“Skin’s broken.”

“Can’t be helped. I’ve had it done to me, too. It’s a soldier’s life. Were you in combat?”

“I got out after five months, sir.”

“If you drop dead over here, you’ve got nobody but yourself to blame. Don’t ever forget that. You and I, we both signed up as volunteers. And to make some money.”

“Like I said, that wasn’t—”

“I know all about it. You see, here we are smack in the middle of an international marketplace. Are you armed?”

“Empty-handed, sir.”

Yong Kyu took a revolver out of his belt. “Take this. Loaded with six cartridges. You may end up on watch all night.”

“All night? Where?”

“Puohung Street. You’ll see when we get there.”

“Spend the whole night on the street?”

“We’ll find you some cover for a stakeout.”

“It’s like going out on a one-man ambush! For that I need an automatic weapon.”

“It’s the safest residential district in Da Nang.”

They passed the air force PX once more and turned left on Doc Lap Boulevard, crossed Le Loi Boulevard and came onto Puohung Street. From a distance they could see a wire barricade blocking half the street at a checkpoint. Yong Kyu pulled to a stop. Wearing his mercury-mirrored sunglasses, Toi came out of the sentry post with a Vietnamese QC officer.

“When did you get here?” Yong Kyu asked.

“About twenty minutes ago,” said Toi, glancing at his watch. “No sign of them yet.”

“I know. They haven’t left the air force PX yet. Camera?”

“Here it is,” Toi said, pulling a long thin instamatic from his top pocket. “I got it from Hoa.”

“Let’s go together.”

“Where to?”

“We need to find a hiding place near their house. I need your help.”

Toi got in the back of the Jeep. They drove up the street and stopped when they were within sight of the white cast-iron gate on the house occupied by Lieutenant Colonel Pak and his men. The sidewalk was lined with palm trees and Vietnamese were riding by on bicycles. Yong Kyu pointed to the white gate.

“That’s the house. Keep an eye on that house and the moment you spot them taking the goods in there, notify us. The command post is the Dragon Palace Restaurant. Now, where’ll be a good place for you?”

Yong Kyu looked around but there was not a single store or bar nearby, only residences with hedge fences or cinder-block walls. They walked down the street, looking for a suitable spot. They came upon a house with a low fence fashioned from reeds bound to wooden slats. Behind the fence on the porch there was a cot and a few chairs in one of which an old grandmother was cradling a baby in her arms. Toi told them to wait and went inside. After talking for some time with the old lady, he came out.

“Done. I promised to give them a few boxes of C-rations.”

“What did you tell her is going on?”

“The whole neighborhood knows about the Koreans living in that house. They told me two others live in another rented house on the next block. I told her that the Korean and Vietnamese QC units are checking on a minor offense. Until tomorrow morning we can use the chair in her yard as a lookout, that’s the deal.”

“Follow him.”

The private went with Toi inside the house. A minute later, Toi, the private, and the old woman all came out. The grandmother stared suspiciously at the three men.

“Am I to stand duty with no dinner?” the private asked.

“Ah, I forgot. There are some beef ribs.”

Yong Kyu went back to the Jeep and brought a grease-stained brown bag.

“There’s plenty, share it with the granny. As for the report, go to the checkpoint back there and make your call.”

“I understand.”

Toi said something else to the old woman and then made a polite bow. Yong Kyu and Toi went back to the checkpoint on Puohung Street.

“Why this sudden check on them?” Toi asked.

“When the yarn is tangled, you can’t pull out a strand. This is to straighten the channels.”

“I don’t get it.”

“The US side is hot and bothered. The Hong Kong Group’s been meddling all around and so the channels are messed up, that’s the story.”

“What are they dealing?”

“Cigarettes and beer.”

“If that’s all, isn’t it pretty easy?”

“Korean beer is moving in volume.”

“Ah, so it’s swapping favors.”

“Get it now?”

“Cao must be pissed off, it’s like snatching his customers.”

“We’re trying to make the Hong Kong Group keep their hands off the beer.”

“Are you going to dry up the supply of Korean beer to the market?”

“Not exactly. We like having more of our beer out on the streets here. It’s not military policy, though. Just a bright idea of some of the individuals among us who want a better cut.”

“What’s that like for us, though? Get killed, maimed, and buy other people’s beer?”

“It’s the same money, after all. The money used to buy our beer comes from the US forces anyway.”

“Then who’s going to handle marketing of Korean beer?”

“Well, it’s not decided yet. I’d like the chief sergeant and Colonel Cao to be in charge, though.”

“Cao has his own channels.”

“He can always change.”

Toi chuckled. “This is not something I should meddle with, but don’t you think the Americans will be upset?”

“To even things up, we’ll be upset, too. Toi, do you think we’re out in the Le Loi market only to spring a leak from the Turen supply warehouse? That’s just a side job. First, we have to have inside details on the US activities, and then get information on the suppliers of the NLF as well as your own government forces.”

“A large quantity of weapons is being traded.”

“I know. But that’s for later. First, we must find out who’s dealing in A-rations.”

“How come?”

“Those who eat that stuff are the same ones who sell arms.”

Chuckling again, Toi said, “Hey, wake up, you passed the checkpoint, this is Doc Lap.”

“Right, let’s turn around.” Yong Kyu made a U-turn at the intersection.

Toi said, “The economic section on the US side is moving their fresh fruits and vegetables out into the market before they go bad. With traffic out of the city cut off, the people of Da Nang have no choice but to buy California onions for twice or three times the price of those grown nearby. Same with potatoes and cabbage. The money is then used to pay wages for Vietnamese laborers or for military services. And here you are, selling beer. .”

“There’s not a single Japanese soldier here, but the PX warehouses are bursting with their appliances. And what we’re trying to sell is some beer our privates are too poor to buy.”

“Very well. I’m your assistant, after all. When you arrest the Hong Kong Group, are you planning to chase them out of the country?”

“No. We’re just going to limit their dealing to PX luxury goods. They can buy refrigerators, TVs, electric fans, cameras, and the like and resell them in the black market.”