The Shadow of Arms (56 page)

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Authors: Hwang Sok-Yong

Tags: #War & Military, #History, #Military, #Korean War, #Literary, #korea, #vietnam, #soldier, #regime, #Fiction, #historical fiction, #Hwang Sok-yong, #black market, #imperialism, #family, #brothers, #relationships, #Da Nang, #United States, #trafficking, #combat, #war, #translation

BOOK: The Shadow of Arms
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“Probably no military significance. We'll have to dig around a little more to know, but some sort of change is in the air, don't you think?”

Toi was holding up the long Chinese-style chopsticks and tapping the table with their bottoms.

“When they restrict evening passes for the GIs, there's bound to be some change on the way.”

“They did it before the Vietnamese elections.”

“Right. They may do it when a political change is coming, for instance, when a coup d'état is expected, or when demonstrations heat up. They also might restrict passes before a full-scale offensive. But I don't think either of those cases applies now,” Toi said rather firmly.

“Why not?” Yong Kyu asked.

“The election is over and the new government is in place. Instead, there'll be a presidential election in America, but not until fall. As for combat operations . . . I don't think anything like that is on the way right now. The NLF is completely absorbed in reconstructing the combat power and the war material they lost during the Tet Offensive. The Americans are seeking to enter into ceasefire negotiations while maintaining the present breathing spell. Since the battle at Khesanh, neither side has been too eager to mount major operations.”

“If that's so,” Yong Kyu said, revealing his own opinion, “what's left is a basic change in the American operational strategy, or some political change in America.”

“I don't know. It's not inconceivable that the Americans will make some changes in their operations. Well, it's already been changing, you know. The high command has passed from crazy Westmoreland to stubborn Abrams. And Johnson has announced he won't run for re-election. But you know, I think the reason for restricting American passes is much simpler and also tentative, based on domestic conditions in Vietnam. Or it may be only a local order limited to areas under the jurisdiction of the US headquarters and the MAC in Danang. As I said before, I don't see it as a measure of military significance.”

“Do you think there'll be any changes in Le Roi market?”

“Change is already here. NLF money is flowing in, and American forces have been restricted from the city. Wait!”

Toi dropped onto his plate a chunk of duck he had picked up with his chopsticks.

“When was it that the Americans changed their commanding general?”

Tracing time back to the Tet Offensive, Yong Kyu counted on his fingers. Back in those days he had been haunting the PXs, absorbed in feeling the pulse of the trading in luxury goods.

“Was it the end of March? It's more than two months ago, almost three months.”

“The Paris Conference had begun. Sergeant Ahn, I'll be back in a little while, so you wait here.”

Toi rubbed his greasy fingers on his fatigue trousers and got up. As he went out, his silver sunglasses reflected the scene of the terminal lot outside the pub.

“Why leave so suddenly in the middle of a meal?”

“It won't take long.”

After Toi rushed out, Yong Kyu did not feel like eating alone, so he ordered some beer. He quickly drained one can and was about to open another. As always, whenever he pulled the ring on a can it reminded him of his combat duty in the jungle. For a fleeting moment he would imagine he was pulling the safety pin out of a grenade, and that he had to grasp the can with a firm grip and lob it far off over his head, Then he would take some time to calm himself.

For a long, long time the giggling of a young veteran lingered in his ears, a young veteran showing a picture he was sneaking back home as a souvenir. “The new model grenade is nice. Unlike a fragmentation grenade, it's smooth as an egg. Playing hens is fun. Push it in with a kick, watch it slip in beautifully. Before the egg can be laid, it'll explode and fly in all directions.” What would that kid be doing back home now? Yong Kyu wondered. He would have become a civilian by this time and would probably be working himself to death just to make a living. And no doubt he had outlived those who died faceless to him. Would he still recall the game of playing hens? Those few short months in the jungle would be etched in his soul even after he died . . . imprinted indelibly in his heart like some snapshot kept as a memento.

“It's sure a fancy lunch.”

A white cotton shirt loomed in front of Yong Kyu. Above the top button the face of Nguyen Thach was smiling, with tiny wrinkles gathered at the corners of his eyes.

“Have a seat,” Yong Kyu said, pointing with his chin. “Food for three is too much for me to handle alone . . .”

Without hesitation Nguyen Thach plopped down across from Yong Kyu. Then he unfastened the upper buttons of his traditional shirt, and pulled over toward him the plate and chopsticks that had been set for the clerk from Puohung Company.

“Has Mr. Toi got indigestion? Looks like the third member of the party has failed to show up.”

“Ah, both of them have stomachaches.”

Nguyen Thach picked up a piece of duck meat, dipped it in a spicy sauce and devoured it with evident relish.

“That's a shame, to have missed such a delicious lunch.”

“Do you see Dr. Tran often?”

“I thought you knew. The goods are already being supplied. For starters, antibiotics and painkillers. Quinine and various antiseptics will be next.”

“I suppose they'll all end up being used in the field.”

Despite this sarcastic remark from Yong Kyu, Thach kept on smiling. “Among the American goods circulating in Vietnam, is there anything that isn't for military use?”

“Yes, a lot.”

Thach winked at Yong Kyu. “Of course, chocolates, candy, razor blades, everything down to condoms, but it's the American soldiers under Pentagon command who eat and consume the duty-free products supplied by the various entrepreneurs in America. I no longer wish to argue with Sergeant Ahn. Our relationship is like . . . how shall I put it, like that between teeth and lips. We're inseparable.”

“Those are the wrong Chinese characters. How about the relationship between spear and shield?”

“Anyway, you do not seem to trust me.”

When Thach finished replying, Yong Kyu dropped the joking tone and said in an icy voice, “I've introduced you to Dr. Tran, and you've become the only dealer in Le Loi market with access to medical supplies. But you did not keep the promise you made to me.”

Nguyen Thach put down his chopsticks. “What are you talking about? I certainly did introduce you to a clerk at Puohung Company.”

“I didn't mean that,” said Yong Kyu. “You promised you'd give me daily information on the content of dealings by the NLF.”

Thach, fully composed, nodded and then raised both hands with thumbs extended. “Look. First you introduced me to Dr. Tran, and I introduced one of old man Hien's clerks to you.”

Then he lifted up his index fingers. “Next, on the condition that you give me information on the dealings of Puohung Company, I was supposed to furnish you with information on NLF dealings, right? You have daily contacts with the clerk, but you have given me no information, and so neither have I. Don't you think it's only fair?”

Yong Kyu looked Nhuyen Thach straight in the eye. “Do you really want to know about the deals of Puohung Company? You seem to have known of their business in great detail for a long time. So Toi and I, we're now trying to find out the information we need on our own.”

“Being independent is the first and foremost priority for any merchant, whether you run a big enterprise or a tiny hole-in-the-wall store. You and I had a relationship requiring mutual dependence. Those B-rations you brought out of Turen were a great help for both of us. And now, what exactly is it that you want to know?”

Thach began chewing duck meat again. Yong Kyu remained silent as he finished up a wing and a breast.

“Ah, so you no longer trust this Nguyen. Fine. What about this? The NLF have completed their tax collections for the first half of the year, so the black market will see a surge of activity from next month.”

“That I already know,” Ahn Yong Kyu answered curtly and fell silent again.

Thach spoke. “I hear you've been coming to the truck warehouse at lunchtime and again at night to check the freight vehicles and the smaller transports. I can tell you now that won't be of much help to you.”

“Why is that?”

“Isn't it obvious? It's like checking every single household in order to search for guerrillas who've infiltrated the city. It leads nowhere.”

In spite of himself, Yong Kyu lost his temper and blurted out words that had been simmering inside his heart.

“We've uncovered information on most of the NLF's dealing connections in Da Nang.”

Nguyen Thach laughed softly.

You're being too hasty. You know, most of the merchants in the Vietnamese markets make it their business to deal with the Americans, Vietnamese soldiers, people from third countries, and always with the NLF. That's fate. In a war like this there's no other way.”

Thach gathered his hands together and stared with a serious look at Yong Kyu, then continued. “I liked you from the start. Because, unlike the Americans or the Vietnamese soldiers, you showed no prejudices. When you told me this war was not your responsibility and that you'd soon be heading home, taking off your uniform in a few months, I decided to discard my dislike for foreign soldiers and be fair with you. I did make a promise, but I did not want to see you get into any trouble while you remain here. Here is a little token to show you that I mean to keep the promise I made to you.”

Nguyen Thach paused and pulled a piece of paper out of the lower pocket of his white cotton shirt, then handed the folded sheet over to Yong Kyu.

“Of course, it's merely a formality. But it could become extremely useful to you. You once told me you needed a wild card for protection, something suitable for the mysterious nature of your duty here, didn't you? Well, here is the card for your protection.”

Yong Kyu looked over the paper. It contained information on the quantity and price of various goods and the destinations to which they were consigned.

“This is . . .”

“That's right. Goods that clearly have been shipped to the NLF and to the residents in liberated areas. It's a detailed description of materials that have been fraudulently siphoned off from the supplies that were supposed to be used for the phoenix hamlets resettlement project. Can you think of a better card to hold in your hand? It's one you can play against the Americans as well as the Vietnamese authorities.”

Ahn Yong Kyu quickly put the paper away. “Isn't the dealer your own brother?”

“Yes, and that was a great help for discovering more detailed information. Later, I tracked down those outbound trucks and so was able to make an accurate description. If you use this card when you need to, it'll shake up the whole of central Vietnam as well as the Da Nang administration. There'll be a storm of personnel changes in the command of the US forces, not to mention the Vietnamese army. However, as you yourself said, whether you should actually use this card, or just gulp the information down is a decision requiring very serious consideration.”

Ahn Yong Kyu took a deep breath in order to remain calm.

“Fine. But there's still something I'm curious about.”

“What's that?”

“I still have no information on the dealings in weapons.”

Nguyen Thach frowned. “What do you want, to become a prize agent so the Americans will award you a silver star? You may find the metal too heavy to bear.”

“Just curious.”

“From the quantities shown on that statement, you can guess,” said Thach. “Black market dealing in the phoenix hamlet supplies is vital for the Americans and Vietnamese alike.”

“Thank you,” Yong Kyu said sincerely. “I will be leaving here in three months. And I like to travel light.”

“That's precisely your position. Everything in Vietnam belongs to the Vietnamese. Am I not right?”

“Absolutely.”

“I'm glad we've come to understand each other. One more thing. I must inform you that things are shaping up so that it's going to be difficult for us to share an office any longer. My brother is completely absorbed in the cinnamon he's collecting with Major Pham in the highlands. It's gotten to the point where I've had to give up my own repair shop as a warehouse for their use.”

“I understand. We'll move out. You've been a great help to us.”

Nguyen Thach stood up. “Well, it's not as though we'll have nothing more to do with each other from here out. You can find an office anywhere in Le Loi market, and we'll continue to do business together. Here comes Mr. Toi. I hope you'll relay my intention to him.”

As he left the pub, Thach nodded to Toi who was just coming in. Sitting down across from Yong Kyu, Toi asked, “What's going on?”

“What do you mean? Am I not allowed to have lunch with a dealer of ours?” Yong Kyu said.

“What did Nguyen Thach have to say?” Toi asked, flipping the cold food this way and that.

“He asked us to vacate the office. Looks like his brother is going to use his service shop as a cinnamon warehouse.”

“You must have said something. You didn't touch the very bottom, did you?”

“I've just found out who the main dealer to the NLF is,” said Yong Kyu.

“Who?”

“As we knew from the beginning, it's none other than Nguyen himself. But I'll make no more inquiries.”

Toi looked around in perplexity and then asked, “How can you say that when this is only the beginning?”

He gave me some information that can be used for a counterattack, and he has even more information than that.”

“Look, we've known that from the start. Did he say so himself?”

“No, but he didn't have to. I could just tell.”

“Then the conditions have not changed.”

Yong Kyu could not resist taking out the piece of paper and showing it to Toi. “This ought to be enough. It's dynamite.”

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