“Hold it, hold it. .”
Dao, the instructor, stopped Pham Minh and in an icy voice asked, “So, what you’re trying to say is that innocent women and children died?”
“That’s, that’s right, sir. I do acknowledge, of course, that such things happen in war. But you were talking, sir, about the various examples of military force used by urban action groups, and I’ve been wondering if terror is something tactical or political, or both. If it kills innocent Vietnamese children, what political significance does it have? If such things are avoidable, should we not go to great lengths to avoid them?”
The instructor looked around at all the trainees before he answered.
“An important point. In the instances I spoke of, I did not mention casualties among innocent civilians. Sometimes the damage can be worse than that inflicted by the enemy. Generally speaking, during an urban military action, the citizens will face a risk of injury or death that is two or three times greater than the enemy forces. However, our Liberation Front considers that all our people, whether they want to or not, are participants in this struggle on a national scale. They died in action for the sake of a new history in Vietnam.”
“What I’m saying is. . that it can be avoided, sir.”
“All around us the enemy is slaughtering countless numbers of our fellow countrymen through aerial bombing and assault campaigns.”
In spite of himself, Pham Minh went ahead with an impassioned outburst. “Because they are the enemy! We are here to save Vietnam!”
“Violence is the worst evil in times of peace. But in the present reality, violence to destroy violence is necessary.”
“Sir, I’m not talking about the ethical standard of violence.”
“Your opinion is full of liberal sentimentalism. Revolutions are not fought in fairy tales.”
Pham Minh was about to say something more when his comrade sitting beside him tugged at his sleeve. Pham Minh turned to look at him. Once during the march, Pham Minh had helped him reach the next rest camp when he was lagging behind. He was a boyish youth from Da Nang, about two years his junior. Only then did Pham Minh realize that everybody in the group was staring at him. He silenced himself. At the end of the session, he was brought before the political officer. The officer told him to sit down and that he had heard what happened from Dao, then the discussion began again.
“I’m sure you know very well without my quoting the words of the Chairman. Our Motherland today is entering into an anti-colonial struggle. In the midst of this, we also have to engage in class struggle. Two very heavy burdens are on our shoulders. On the one hand it is a civil war, but at the same time we must fight against a foreign power. This is not a world of classical revolution where aims were unclouded, like France, where the world of the masses was easily distinguished from the world of the aristocrats at Versailles. We must free ourselves from the oppression of the colonialists and at the same time fight the disease in ourselves that is obstructing liberation.
“That an innocent Vietnamese child was killed by a guerrilla’s bomb is irrelevant. The point is, the enemy dies. That the child also died was a coincidence, but to therefore call the act evil, that’s an absolute ethical stance that transcends the social situation. That cannot exist. We cannot use ethical persuasion to make the enemy retreat. Therefore, the proper ethic for today is to amass all strength so that the enemy is forced to withdraw. To have the children of Vietnam, who have been brought up poorly educated and hungry, grow up happy and healthy, is also included in this scheme of ours. As a means to that end, those Vietnamese children inevitably sacrificed by our violence have actually dedicated their lives for the cause of our revolution.”
“I, too, know the contentions of Trotsky and Kautsky from reading. I shall, of course, fight against the enemy. But, I can tell you now, I did not join the Liberation Front as a communist. When peace arrives here in the future, I’ll live my life as a doctor, treating people’s diseases. I volunteered to give myself as an NLF fighter in order to advance the dream of our nation, but I am not a Marxist. If it’s mandatory that I adhere to that ideology, I’ll try. . but. .”
The political officer shook his head. “No, the Liberation Front is a united front. It does, however, intend to have a certain unified logic of its own for the fortification of combat strength.”
After Pham Minh left, the officer called in the cell leader from his barracks and ordered him to continue discussing the problems with Pham Minh through the end of training. He also added that everyone in Vietnam, including the fighters, had to carry out a class struggle against colonial elements within their own selves. He then wrote down his opinion in the records of training evaluation.
“Pham Minh, Da Nang native who was medical student at Hue, has many problems as a guerrilla. But he is honest. Before assigning him any leadership responsibility for missions, it is advisable to give him tasks as assistant agent. His petite bourgeois background and his brother Pham Quyen’s position as chief adjutant to General Liam will make him useful for service in Da Nang. Assigning him as a supply agent is considered highly appropriate. Other possibilities are contact agent, tax collector, or procurement agent. Continuous supervision will be necessary.”
17
A cloud of red dust was hanging in the air in the direction of Route 1. The headlights of the lead vehicle gradually came into view through the dense dust. Yong Kyu checked his watch. Eleven forty. Looking over at the idling truck standing by at the Y-junction, he gave a wave. Slowly, the truck started to pull out onto the westbound road. Yong Kyu jumped in and the motor started to rev.
“Been to the supply warehouse before, haven’t you?”
“Yeah, twice.”
“Once the convoy passes by, be sure to stay right on its tail.”
The driver nodded. Yong Kyu had swapped his civilian outfit for American jungle fatigues. Like Toi, he was wearing sunglasses and had a.45 stuck in his belt, intentionally conspicuous. From now on, Yong Kyu would be in charge of the supply warehouse and the market. It was more than a necessity for investigative tasks; he was personally involved in the underground transactions. The captain had more faith in Yong Kyu than in the sergeant. The non-com team leader seemed to have written Yong Kyu off. Even in their quarters at the hotel, the team leader seldom said a word to him these days. He seemed to think Yong Kyu would soon be transferred to brigade headquarters.
The pact Yong Kyu had forged with the Vietnamese provincial government was unprecedented in the history of the detachment. It was a coup even the economic operations group of the American forces had never been able to manage. His bold black market dealings were quickly given a green light. From then on, the dealing connections would be furnishing a steady flow of detailed intelligence on the black market.
Yong Kyu now needed his own independent channels for purchasing goods. The safety and stability of his sources had to be such that the dealers would at once recognize him as an important figure in the market. And whenever the buyers reported a strong demand for this or that item, Yong Kyu had to prove he could supply those products quickly.
Among the merchants there was a common saying: “If you can sell from Turen, you can buy Ho Chi Minh.” Turen was the supply warehouse that handled all the war materiel and general supplies for the Vietnamese Second Army, not to mention all the American forces in the north central part of South Vietnam. Located northwest of Da Nang, it was defended at the rear by the US Marine Division at Dong Dao and by a dense contingent of ARVN troops, and its front was bounded by the Red Beach along Da Nang Bay.