‘My point is that we shouldn’t be here. Because sooner or later the Chinese are gonna get real serious about taking this place back.’
Kate laughed at the ridiculous suggestion. ‘And you don’t think they’re already serious? I mean, didn’t you just listen to my report? Ten thousand troops sounds fairly serious to me.’
‘It’s a drop in the bucket, Kate. So’s a hundred thousand. They’ve got millions of men in their army. They’ve got a population of a billion and a half, for Christ’s sake! Sooner or later, Kate, it’s gonna get Biblical. They’re gonna sweep over these hills and kill everybody and everything in their paths no matter who the hell has air superiority or air supremacy or whatever.’
‘Well… don’t you think UNRUSFOR has thought of that? That Clark’s got a plan?’
He shrugged. ‘Maybe that’s part of his plan. Maybe these guys are expendable.’
‘Oh, come on! You don’t think he’d piss away five thousand men!’
‘If it meant victory? What’s five thousand men?’ Woody frowned and shook his head. ‘Maybe he wouldn’t, Kate. But shit happens. Things go wrong. He’d take risks. He’d have to take chances to win. And this is bound to be one helluva risk, don’t you think? I mean, we’re in China, Kate. In China!’
At first, there was nothing but the whistling sound of the wind. Then came a buzzing sound — like a chain saw high in the air.
‘Look, an AC-130 raid,’ Kate said. She got to her feet and pointed at the orbiting black gunship. You could see the tracer rounds streaking out of the sky toward the ground. Woody just sat there. ‘Get the shot, will you?’ Kate said impatiently.
‘I’ve got plenty of AC-130 shots,’ he muttered lethargically.
‘Not in broad daylight and clear weather,’ she argued. The sky was filled now with a second and then a third set of smudgy streaks. The circling Specter gunships pummeled their targets. Nearly always on call, they responded to fire direction from an AWACS, which monitored ground movement detected by an aircraft called a J-STARS. All of it unleashed punishing blows on the Chinese long before they even came near the valley. The buzzing was from 20-mm cannon and 5.56-mm miniguns. Booms resounded from 105-mm artillery pieces firing directly at targets below. All of it was mounted on the sides of the lazily orbiting gunships.
Woody raised the camera to his shoulder and began to tape. Kate kept glancing back and forth between the raid and her cameraman. She was terrified by what he said but tried not to show it.
‘Take your clothes off!’ came the female U.S. Army soldier’s high-pitched Cantonese. Chin and the others all looked at each other uncertainly. She repeated the command. The dozen or so prisoners just stared at the woman. She looked ethnic Chinese, but her accent was distinctly foreign. And she was a woman.
A large black soldier with a rifle barked something threatening in English. Everyone began to disrobe. The tent was heated, and they were marched into a warm shower. Under the loud urgings in English they washed with soap and then dried with rough cotton towels. When they emerged, a team of doctors and nurses awaited.
Chin covered his genitals and walked sheepishly to the brightly-lit station. The doctor prodded and probed wearing thin, rubbery gloves. He even made Chin bend over and spread the cheeks of his butt. Once the humiliation was over, Chin was issued socks, canvas slippers, and a new uniform. It was a bright orange one-piece with a long number across his breast pocket. Next came an electric razor which clipped off all of Chin’s wet hair. They gathered at the far side of the tent
‘We’re gonna freeze to death,’ someone whispered. The tent was nice and warm. But his teeth were already chattering. Chin’s eyes fixed on the closed flap in the tent. Two guards stood there wearing arm bands and holding rifles. Beyond lay sub-zero temperatures. Their fears subsided when heavy blankets were handed out. Everyone wrapped the blankets over their heads and around their shoulders. They were herded onto a green bus just outside. It too was warmed by heaters. They sat in padded seats. Smiles broke out on some of the men. Two armed men stood at the front. The driver sat behind a mesh wire wall. He ground through the gears and they took off down the road.
‘Where you think we’re going?’ the guy next to Chin asked.
Chin shrugged. He just stared out the frost-covered windows. The fresh clothing and warm blanket swaddled him. He was immersed in a rare sense of comfort. Months of aches and pains eased. He didn’t care where they were taking him. He didn’t imagine it would be bad. It wouldn’t make sense to bath a man before killing him. And they weren’t dressed for labor out in the elements.
The bus pulled through a barbed wire enclosure. Inside were row after row of barracks. The bus stopped in front of one. The doors opened to admit a chilly blast. Everyone rose and followed a guard to the street. They stumbled inside and were each ushered to a bunk. Half the long, open barracks was already filled. The human cargo from Chin’s bus filled the other half. An American with a clipboard pointed Chin to the lower bunk. He wrote the number from Chin’s jumper on his pad. On the bunk lay a metal cup. Inside it was a toothbrush and toothpaste. He eyed his new possessions in wonder.
The man in the lower bunk next to his was grinning ear-to-ear. He sat cross-legged and ate rice from a bowl. ‘You want some?’ he asked. He didn’t have much left in the bowl, but Chin was famished. He nodded. ‘There’s all you can eat down there,’ he said. He pointed with his chopsticks toward the end of the barracks.
Chin immediately got up and headed that way. By the time he got to the stove, he was already third in line. A Chinese cook wore an orange prison uniform. He stirred a vat of hot soup and dished out rice. A tall stack of bowls stood along the wall and Chin took one. There were no chopsticks, so he took a package filled with plastic utensils and a paper napkin.
There was chatter and laughter as Chin returned to his bunk. But no Americans were to be seen in the long barracks. Chin sank down with his steaming bowl of white rice. His bunk had a mattress and wool blanket. Plus he had the blanket he’d brought with him. He tried unsuccessfully to open the clear plastic wrapper. The man next to him laughed at his effort. Chin finally just ate the sticky rice with his fingers.
His yellow-toothed neighbor laughed again. He clicked his chopsticks together. ‘Never figure those things out. But everything else?’ He looked around the barracks. ‘Whattaya think? Not bad, eh?’ Chin was too busy stuffing his mouth to do more than nod. ‘Been here three days, myself. They come through here twice a day to bring food and coal for the furnace and to take a count. They don’t say too much.’
‘The Americans?’ Chin mumbled. He accidentally spilled rice from his mouth.
His bunkmate nodded. ‘Strange people. But I’ve never eaten better in my life.’ He flashed a crooked smile.
‘So, is this it?’ Chin asked. ‘No work? Just sitting around here all day?’ His neighbor nodded. Chin shoveled more gooey rice into his mouth. ‘Any word from the war?’ he asked.
The skinny man abruptly lay back on his bunk. He stared up at the mattress above him. He didn’t answer Chin’s question. He acted as if he hadn’t heard it. Conversation over. That was when Chin began to notice the war’s effects. He became a student of the sullen and the aching. He flitted around the brooding at a distance but ever-watchful. They gave shape and form — and sometimes a name — to the damage done to him. He felt a kinship — but never shared it — with his fellow survivors.