Ha Jin - War Trash

I was puzzled why they didn't just come in and take Pei away. Perhaps they were unsure what he looked like now. Even though they had the commissar's photo, they might not be able to identify him, because his features had changed considerably; he was bearded and much thinner than a few months before. I was told that the jeep had come and given the same order every morning for almost a week.

The loudspeaker blared again, this time in English, "Pei Shan, you come out right away, or we'll handle you differently when we come in to nab you."

There was no response from our headquarters, wherein the commissar sat smoking and talking with others. He had held a meeting three days earlier to discuss how to deal with the enemy's demand. He even said he'd follow the decision made by the leaders of the United Communist Association. If they believed he should surrender himself to the enemy, he would do that to save the compound from destruction. Of course nobody wanted him to turn himself in. They decided to ignore the enemy's bluster, which suggested that the GIs might not dare come in to search for the commissar at this moment. The massacre in Compound 76 had just raised an international outcry, and a group of European inspectors had come to visit the burned barracks, shooting photos and even interviewing Korean POWs. So the enemy might have pulled in their horns for the time being. On the other hand, we feared that if Commissar Pei fell into their hands, they would keep him here, probably in the war-criminal jail, so as to paralyze our leadership before we were moved to Cheju Island. In other words, the enemy might be planning to isolate our top leader from us.

Commissar Pei was aware of the possibility that he might be taken away and kept separate from us. He had prepared two sets of leaders among us in case more of them were snatched away or the enemy divided us into groups. He also organized the Party members into small sets that could assume low-level leadership if necessary. As for the position of the top leader, if Pei was gone, the man to replace him was Zhao Teng, a flat-faced warrior with a hot temper. If we lost Zhao, Zhang Wanren, a slow-witted but dependable man, would step in. Now I saw that Pei really needed Chaolin and Ming badly; they would have been more capable leaders.

In another three days it would be July 1 and the Chinese Communist Party's thirty-first anniversary, so the leaders in the compound decided to hold a demonstration, not a large one, just a symbolic act to show the enemy our strength and to remind the prisoners of the Party's presence. Commissar Pei assigned me to write some English words on placards, such as "Long Live Communism!," "We Must Go Back to Build Our Country!," "Down with American Imperialism!," "Follow the Communist Party Forever!"

But on the evening of June 29, as plans for the demonstration were in the works, General Smart arrived. As soon as his jeep pulled up at the front gate, he announced through a bullhorn, "All the prisoners in Compound 602, I order you to leave this place tomorrow morning. Two ships are going to take you to Cheju Island, where you'll live in brand-new barracks. If any of you resist moving, we shall evict you by force." A middle-aged interpreter translated the orders to the inmates, who listened without response.

After Smart left, an emergency meeting was held in our headquarters, for which I served as secretary. Without blank paper I just jotted down a few notes on the margins of the Bible I had once owned, so that we could keep track of who said what. The leaders were deliberating whether to depart for Cheju Island peacefully. Commissar Pei said, "Perhaps we shouldn't resist this time, just to save our strength for future struggle."

Several men disagreed, feeling our country might lose face if we yielded to the enemy without a fight, because the Koreans had just scored a huge victory and were watching us. They argued for collective resistance, or at least for creating some difficulties for the Americans.

"I can see your points," the commissar said. "But we don't know anything about the situation on Cheju Island. Who will guard us there, Americans or South Koreans or the Nationalist troops from Taiwan? Are we going to be the only POWs in the camp? Are there other armies on the island? There're so many unknowns that we should be cautious about any action now, not to waste our energy."

"I'm afraid the enemy has another ax to grind," put in Zhao Teng, the compound's nominal chief, licking his gold teeth.

"That's true," another voice added.

"What if they take away our leaders before they put us on the ships?" asked a third man.

The commissar's eyes brightened. "I've thought of that. That's a possibility. Let's talk about it."

"I believe we must refuse to move," Zhao Teng said. "First, we should show the enemy our determination to fight, so when they come to search for you, they'll understand that even if they find you, they might not be able to take you away without causing lots of trouble for themselves."

"I don't want to get our men into danger," said the commissar, blushing a little. This was the first time I had ever seen his face change color.

"We know that, but this is a part of the struggle we cannot avoid."

A bald man chipped in, "This is also an opportunity to create a scandal for the Americans. If they open fire and burn our tents, they'll be condemned by the whole world."

More men argued for resistance. Commissar Pei seemed in an awkward position because his personal safety was also at stake. He was much less resolute than before. After another hour's discussion, he finally gave way, but he specified some conditions: "Tomorrow morning we won't move unless they come in to take us out. But we must make sure none of our men will be hurt and there'll be no bloodshed. We should exhaust the Americans' patience so that they'll expose themselves to the eyes of the world."

After the meeting I mulled over Pei 's words. He had never been so cautious, so unwilling to risk the lives of his men. I was impressed by the compromise plan he had made. Then the thought occurred to me that he might have argued for peace for personal reasons. A fullblown confrontation would have put him at a disadvantage. If he fell into the Americans' hands, they might punish him more for the resistance he had masterminded. Enraged, they could cripple or even kill him and then blame it on an accident. In other words, he must have been fearful, worried about his personal safety, knowing that without thousands of men around him, he would be at the enemy's mercy. So I had mixed feelings about his attitude. On the one hand, I was totally for a peaceful departure, and on the other, I felt that by nature Pei wasn't a peaceful man – he had only been frightened into supporting a relatively passive resistance.

At eight the next morning, six truckloads of GIs arrived at our compound. Their officer, a craggy-faced man, ordered us to come out with our blanket rolls and line up on the front yard, but none of us moved. The GIs were waiting. A hush enveloped the compound, as if all the men were sleeping. The officer shouted his orders again. Still nobody stirred. The barracks were so quiet that you could hear bursts of static coming from the megaphone and a flock of orioles chirping in the crown of a crooked elm.

The GIs waited about half an hour. Then the gate was opened and they came in, advancing while pitching tear-gas canisters at our tents. In no time the compound turned cloudy and people began coughing.

"Get your damn asses out!" shouted the officer.

Now balls of dark smoke started rising from two tents at the west side. Surely it was our men who had set fire to their quarters, to make it look like the GIs' doing. A few minutes later we filed out of our tents, each carrying his blanket roll, and many men covered their noses with wet towels. We formed up in the yard while a company of GIs surrounded us. The officer ordered some three hundred prisoners to go fight the fire. He kept hollering, "Damn it, I'm gonna try you all for arson!"