Ha Jin - War Trash

Toward the end of July, word came that the armistice had been signed at Panmunjom. The war was finally over; this meant our imprisonment would end soon. Again the inmates were tossed into a great tumult, terrified by the possibility of repatriation. But I was on edge for a different reason: if I couldn't find a way back to China, I might have to depart for Taiwan with these men.

Then it was said that all the POWs would be sent to the Korean mainland again to go through the final screening called "the persuasion." This frightened the prisoners, who would do anything to avoid reentering the Iron Curtain. Many of them began talking about a massive demonstration. A few even offered to kill themselves, since they'd be killed anyway if they were returned to Red China. Some planned to jump into the ocean if they were forced to board ships heading that way.

But before any drastic action took place, there came Chiang Kai-shek's letter, read by himself on the radio and broadcast through amplifiers all over the camp. In an elderly voice the generalissimo urged us to trust the United Nations' arrangements, and he promised to bring us to Taiwan safely. The next day we were each given a Nationalist flag, on whose back was printed Chiang's letter in its entirety. He instructed us:

In order to realize your freedom, you must endure the next few months and must cooperate with the U.N. authorities. In the meantime, your compatriots in Free China will join forces with you to bring about your final liberation. I shall personally see to this matter and ascertain that the United Nations will abide by its principle of respecting the POWs' choice for freedom. In addition, I shall make the United Nations adhere to its promise that it will not send you anywhere against your will, so that you can come to Taiwan, the true China…

This letter pacified the prisoners, though it made me all the more anxious because I wanted to go home. Yet home seemed ominous now – I was unsure what would happen to me if I went back. If only there were a third choice so that I could disentangle myself from the fracas between the Communists and the Nationalists.

In mid-August we heard that many POWs in Camp 8 had left Cheju for China. This meant we might have to depart soon. A recent issue of News World, a weekly published in Hong Kong, showed some pictures of Korean women prisoners burning their mats and blankets before they started out for the North. Here the prison authorities informed us that we, the nonrepatriates, would be sent to a place near Kaesong called the Neutral Zone, where we would stay for three months to go through the final persuasion. The Communists insisted that many of us had been coerced into choosing Taiwan, so they wanted us to listen to their representatives explain their policy regarding the returned captives.

Although the Neutral Zone would be guarded by troops from India, a nonaligned country, this news caused a stir here. The prisoners all knew that the Communists were skilled in psychological attacks. Just showing your face to them would give rise to a good deal of consternation, because they could identify you and make your family and relatives back in China suffer. So unrest again spread among the prisoners. What's worse, the Neutral Zone was so close to the Communist army's position, just two miles away, that their forces might storm the camp and wipe us out. Actually they wouldn't have to enter the zone; just an artillery barrage could do the job.

Back on Koje Island I had thought that some of these pro-Nationalists wrote petitions in their blood just for theatrical effect; now I could see that they truly dreaded the Communists, who in their eyes were savage beasts. Many men, encouraged by their leaders, voiced their determination not to set foot on the Korean mainland again. A petition, signed by thousands of men with their blood, was delivered to Colonel Wilson, the commandant at Camp 13, stating that the POWs would fight to the death before submitting to being moved north to listen to the Communists' persuasion. The Americans were disconcerted, and a deadlock ensued.

Then two officers in the Nationalist army flew in from Taiwan. Secretly they talked to the POW leaders and convinced them to participate in the persuasion after promising them that every prisoner here would get to Taiwan safely. The leaders gave in readily; this was an opportunity to please their future bosses. When they told the rank and file about the inevitable trip, grumbles started rising in the camp, though nobody challenged the decision openly.

To appease the regular prisoners, the leaders took several measures to sabotage the Communists' last-ditch attempt to salvage their loss. The fact that so many men had chosen Taiwan over the mainland must have been a slap in the face to the Chinese government, so its representatives, the persuaders, would make every effort to bring back as many POWs as possible. For a whole week our compound was engaged in mock persuasions, in which some men played the roles of the Communist persuaders, the American observers, and the neutral nations' arbitrators. These rehearsals were mainly meant to prevent the illiterate ones from fumbling at the interview. We were all shown where we'd sit in a persuasion tent, how far away from us the Communist persuaders would be seated, what questions they'd ask us, how we should answer, and how, if rules were violated, we could get help from the arbitrators sitting close by. After the prisoners went through the faked interviews, most of them calmed down. But I was more agitated than before, still wondering how to squirm out of this plight. Whatever happened, I must return to my mother and Julan.

Gradually the mock persuasions evolved into exercises for humiliating the Communists. The leaders had slogans prepared and trained us to insult and curse the persuaders. We were told to berate them freely and that as long as we didn't hurt them physically, there would be no problem. The battalion even held a few spitting sessions, teaching the men how to bring up chunks of phlegm and spit at the Communists accurately. Besides these rehearsals, a cruel tactic was devised, called the Chain Protection, which should have been named the Collective Punishment. The leaders split the inmates into groups of three or four; if one of the men broke his vow and chose mainland China, everybody in the group would be punished. This applied mainly to the regular prisoners, not to the officers, and only our enclosure implemented the Chain Protection. As an interpreter, I was not chained to anyone. Wang Yong seemed to trust me.

In late August a group of officials from Taiwan came to see us, but they were not allowed to enter any compound, so we met them only at the gate. Toward evening, through the amplifiers, they spoke to us, giving advice and warnings. One of them claimed that the Communists had already executed many returned POWs. The head of the delegation said to us:

"When we met today, it became clear to me that you had all been oppressed like slaves by the Communists. Why can't we shake hands and hug one another today? Why are we not allowed to enter your barracks? Why do we have to strain our voices to speak through layers of barbed wire between us? All this is due to the Communists, who mean to keep you here forever. We must remember this and settle accounts with them one of these days… Brothers and friends, Generalissimo Chiang cares about your well-being deeply. You're all anti-Communist heroes and pillars of our nation, so he sent us here to convey his best wishes to you. He invites you to come to Taiwan and join us in our great cause of fighting Communism. After you arrive, you all can follow your aspirations – you can attend colleges, or continue your military service, or pursue any honorable profession. I assure you that we will do everything to facilitate your way to success."