Ha Jin - War Trash

Now everything would depend on whether General Bell would accept these preconditions. If he did, he'd be set free and the victory would be ours.

We wondered how the enemy would respond to our demands. Their new commandant, General Smart, who had arrived the previous night to replace Fulton and take full command of the camp, had already issued six ultimatums, ordering us to release Bell unconditionally, but we had ignored them all. As our discussion continued, the telephone rang. Colonel Lee picked up the handset and passed it to a Korean interpreter. I sat nearby and could hear the voice at the other end. The caller was General Fulton, who wanted to speak to Bell.

An orderly was sent for the general. Two minutes later Bell stepped in. Choi told him, pointing at the phone, " Fulton wants to speak to you."

"Hello, this is Matt," Bell said into the mouthpiece.

"How are you, Matt?" asked the other end. I craned my neck so that I could overhear the whole conversation.

"I'm okay, Charlie."

"Listen, Nancy has arrived from Tokyo. I went to see her just now. She was crying, this is hard for her. She's so emotional that I haven't told her yet that we have phone contact with you. But she may call you soon."

Bell furrowed his brow. "Please tell her I'm fine, no need to worry."

"Matt, tell me, have they insulted or tortured you? We're very concerned."

"Believe me, I'm okay." Bell glanced at Colonel Choi and went on, "In fact they've been respectful."

"Thank God! Do you know how long they'll keep you? Tell me what I can do to help."

"I've no idea, maybe when their conference is over. Don't press them. Just let them go on with their conference."

"All right, I'll stay around here. Call anytime you need me."

"Thank you, Charlie. This means a lot. Let's hope we'll meet soon."

"Yes, I'll keep my fingers crossed, Matt. Good-bye."

"Good-bye."

I was amazed by the phone call, not having expected that the American generals would talk in a casual, personal manner in the midst of such a crisis. They had treated each other as friends, not as comrades who shared the same ideal and fought for the same cause. They hadn't mentioned any ideological stuff. What a contrast this was to Chinese officers, who, in a situation like this, would undoubtedly speak in the voice of revolutionaries, and one side would surely represent the Party.

After dinner Chaolin and I went to see General Bell. The previous evening Commissar Pei had instructed Chaolin to mediate between the Koreans and the Americans and make sure that Bell signed the agreement. The commissar also said that he would organize demonstrations in Compound 602 to support our struggle, and that we must remain composed and reasonable, because a victory could be earned only through careful planning and patient negotiation. Our Korean comrades tended to be too hot-blooded and would even refer to themselves as Great Stalin's soldiers who wouldn't share the same earth and sky with the American imperialists. Many of them lost their temper easily.

General Bell looked exhausted, but he seemed pleased to see us. After we sat down, Chaolin told him through my translation, "General, we do want you to return to your family safely. That's why we came to talk with you."

"Thank you. I appreciate your good intentions," Bell said.

"We understand that your wife is here, and your children must be worried about you too. So please sign the agreement tomorrow. If you don't, we're afraid our Korean comrades may lose their patience. To tell the truth, we've been trying to keep them from running berserk."

"Well, I'll have to see what's on that paper before I sign it."

"We understand that. If you can't accept some parts of the agreement, talk with them. Don't just turn it down categorically. I'll try to persuade them to revise it. In short, don't lose this opportunity for peace."

"I shall keep that in mind."

"Good. Have a restful night."

"The same to you."

We went out and felt relieved. It was overcast, and soundless lightning slashed the northern sky and silhouetted the ridges of the distant hills. We parted company because I had to join Ming in preparing the documents for the following day.

Early the next morning, a copy of our preconditions was delivered to General Smart. While waiting for his reply, we held the ceremony of signing the agreement. On the ground outside the tent sat over seven thousand men in neat lines, though some of them were carrying self-made weapons, whose wide variety precluded the uniformity of the formation. They were waiting to hear the final outcome of our three days' struggle. Meanwhile, inside the tent the atmosphere was solemn and tense. Colonel Choi announced that this was the last part of our conference and that now we were going to test the sincerity of General Bell's attitude toward his crimes. With a wave of his hand he summoned an interpreter to read this agreement to our captive:

I promise to immediately stop our barbarous behavior, our insult and torture of Korean and Chinese prisoners, such as forcing them to write reactionary letters in blood, threats of solitary confinement, mass murdering, rifle and machine-gun shooting, using poison gas, germ weapons, experiments with the prisoners for the A-bomb.

I also promise to observe the Geneva Convention, humanely treat my prisoners, the Brave Soldiers of Great Stalin, give good medical service, human food, new clothing, and stationery. I shall follow international law and let all POWs go back to their home country safely.

I also promise to stop "Voluntary Repatriation" and screening prisoners, and to punish my soldiers who beat and curse prisoners.

Brigadier General Matthew Bell

While listening I felt the hair on the nape of my neck bristle. My head was reeling. The previous afternoon we had discussed what this document should include, and nobody had mentioned stationery, new clothing, or the A-bomb. How could our Korean comrades have produced such a wild piece of writing?

The interpreter went up to Bell and with both hands presented the sheet of paper to him. Bell put on his reading glasses and looked through it. He said calmly, "There's no way I can sign this."

"Why?" asked Colonel Choi, whose small eyes turned triangular.

"The language is inappropriate, and I'm not authorized to respond to some of these demands."

Chaolin stepped in, "Do you wish to revise it?"

Bell thought for a moment, then shook his head. "This is impossible to revise. It has to be rewritten."

When the Korean interpreter had translated his words, all eyes glowered at the general. Bell flinched but added, "If I signed this, it would constitute treason. I'm an honorable man and won't commit such a crime against my country."

A Korean officer slapped the table and yelled at him. Shunji, the woman who knew English, interpreted his words to Bell: "No signature, no go back!"

Quick-witted, Chaolin said to the general, "How about this – you write something that covers the essence of our demands and is also acceptable to yourself?"

"Well…" Bell fingered his mustache and seemed reluctant. Then he said, "All right, let me try."

He picked up a ballpoint and wrote on a pad of yellow paper:

With regard to your demands, I admit that there were instances of abuse and bloodshed in the prison compounds on Koje Island, and that some POWs were killed by other inmates and injured by the U.N. guards. As the commanding officer I am partially responsible for the loss of lives. I can assure you that in the future the POWs here will receive humane treatment in accordance with international law. I will do everything in my capacity to prevent violence, bloodshed, and corporal punishment. If such incidents occur again, I should be called to account.

He looked through the statement carefully and stopped at a spot for a long time. He picked up the pen, then put it down. He handed the pad to us.