The Shadow of Arms by Hwang Sok-Yong Page A

on his face, Blue Jacket Kang stopped wagging his finger at Yong Kyu.
    â€œStuck in the middle, I’ve been ground to pulp. I’ve crawled on field operations a few times, but it’s much more relaxed there than here.”
    â€œYou’re being discharged, aren’t you?”
    â€œYes, it’s over and done for me.”
    â€œI appreciate what you’ve told me,” Yong Kyu said.
    Blue Jacket Kang rummaged through his personal locker, pulled out a white shirt and a pair of pants and threw them to Yong Kyu. As Ahn changed, Kang said, “You look fine, black as any Vietnamese.”
    â€œI don’t look like a soldier?”
    â€œWhen your hair grows out a little you’ll be all set.”
    Kang threw a pair of tennis shoes over, and Yong Kyu finally felt free of his platoon.
    â€œLet’s go to the office and make a report to the command. The detachment leader is a captain.”
    â€œHow about our non-com chief?”
    â€œOne’s a pointer and the other a snake.”
    If the captain was the pointer, the chief had to be the snake.
    â€œWe get three vehicles.”
    Kang went over to the motor pool and drove out in a Jeep with civilian markings. The engine stalled as he let out the clutch, and he muttered, “Piece of shit car. I never drive this one. There’s a place where you can rent one for a couple thousand piasters. We use their cars. They have new model US military Jeeps, freshly repainted, all purchased on the black market.”
    As they sped down Doc Lap Boulevard Blue Jacket Kang taught Yong Kyu the names of various streets and intersections. They drove into the back of a run-down two-story building at the mouth of Puohung Street. Several company Jeeps like their own were parked there.
    As they entered the building they heard the chatter of wireless radios sending and receiving messages in English and Vietnamese. Civilians flowed between the rooms. Once in a while a military uniform could be seen inside an open door. The clacking of typewriters was noisy. They walked into the Korean office where a Vietnamese girl was sitting at the front desk, typing away in English.
    â€œThis is Miss Jiang Hoa, and this here is a new member of the family, just arrived.”
    â€œI’m Corporal Ahn.”
    They bowed to each other. Her eyes were big and bright but her nose was stumpy.
    â€œWhere’s the captain?”
    â€œHe’s gone out to meet Krapensky but he’ll be back soon.”
    â€œLet’s go over there. Major Krapensky is our general commander,” Kang said.
    They went to the last room at the end of the corridor. Three civilians were sitting inside. An American wearing a black T-shirt was busy typing and an Asian, apparently the detachment leader, was in a plain shirt. Sitting next to him was an American in a white suit with no tie. Yong Kyu saluted stiffly, but looked awkward, as his hand did not reach all the way to the brim of his hat. Fortunately, before he started shouting, Kang spoke in Korean.
    â€œThis is the new man who arrived today. He’s my replacement, sir.”
    The Korean captain was a man in his thirties with a short crew cut and a broad-shouldered, sturdy build.
    â€œIf you’re replacing Blue Jacket Kang, you’re going to have a lot of responsibility. Do your best. Kang, when are you going back down to brigade?”
    â€œIn a week, sir.”
    â€œUntil then, teach him all the detailed tactics of his assignment.”
    Then he turned to the American in the white suit and said in English, “Here’s our new man. He arrived today.”
    As Yong Kyu saluted, the man got up and extended his strong, hairy hand.
    â€œI’m Major Krapensky, welcome.”
    The hand clasped Yong Kyu’s. The major with the Slavic name continued, “I was in Korea for two years. I know the country well.”
    The man had an authoritative way about him, Yong Kyu noticed.
    â€œLet me also introduce