CHAPTER XXVIII

Liu woke up from heavy sleep with the sound of rain tapping on the oil-cloth drawn over the mouth of the cave. The woodsmoke drifting in smelled good in the dankness of the shelter heavy with the sour stench of clothes and bodies. But his mind gave an involuntary twitch of worry at the odor of the smoke- And that was what reminded him where he was. For a moment he had forgotten.
They were not supposed to make fires at all with the enemy planes buzzing around all day searching for cooking smoke in the hills, rain or shine. Dry wood would not make so much smoke, but it was hard to find in this rainy season. And they were seldom lucky enough to come across a woodpile in these much-raided caves the Koreans lived in- The people in these parts had taken to living in caves after the bombing and shelling had razed all houses to the ground- Whenever the Chinese People's Volunteers stopped for the day — they generally marched at night —everyone would fight to squeeze in with the Koreans- It saved them the trouble of digging shelters and fetching water for themselves.
There was barely room for the three of them in this hastily dug shelter — Liu, the Battalion Deputy Instructor and his young orderly. The orderly was asleep; the white of the new bandage on the boy's head stood out in the darkness. There had been a row when they were stopping to. in the morning, when everybody's nerves were on edge from exhaustion. The Deputy Instructor had picked up a number of drenched cigarette butts left by the enemy United Nations troops. So the first thing he did was to look for a dry place to start a fire so he could dry the discarded butts- He carefully peeled the paper away and arranged the salvaged shreds of tobacco in the crotch of an iron pick. He put it down to attend to the fire- A minute later when he turned round the pick was gone. He went round yelling "Who's got my pick?" Then he saw his orderly busy leveling the ground of his cave with it. The tobacco was gone, of course. The boy hadn't even seen it. In his fury he grabbed the pick and hit the boy a sharp blow before Liu could stop him.
Liu did not blame the man much. He too was longing for a smoke. Especially now, waking up to the grey stillness of headache weather, an hour before the night march.
He supposed it had been a foolish thing to do — coming here to this desolate land of corpses and burnt-out huts- But there are times when you have to do something foolish or go completely insane. Now, at least, he had one special distinction nobody around him could claim, he told himself wryly. He was probably the only true volun¬teer in this army of volunteers; he had begged to be sent to Korea because it was the only way to ask for a transfer. Back there, after Su Nan's death, he had wanted a change desperately. He could breathe more easily out here at the edge of his Chinese world. Of course there was a good chance of getting killed. Not that he really cared, though he had not come here for that purpose. If he had wanted

to kill himself he could: have done so without dying for them- But he had found that people do not commit suicide just because they wish to cease to exist. They always do it to show someone — though it might be a group of people, the whole world even. If Su Nan was still living, maybe as Sheng's mistress, he might want to kill himself to show her exactly what he thought of this life she had given him- As it was, he lacked the impetus.
The other kan-pu serving in the Volunteers had simply been ordered here. They had not been required to go through the formality of volunteering in big recruiting rallies. Liu's request had been way out of line, as a matter of fact. His superiors probably had thought he was pushing hard to wipe out the black mark on his record. For it was a black mark, his arrest and imprisonment, even if there had not been enough evidence for his conviction. If the Party had had any idea of p'ei-yang t' a, cultivating him as a young kan-pu, they had now lost interest in him- Whether his fervor to get to the fighting was real or simulated, they took him up on it- He had come to Korea in April.
As a low-ranking Cultural Director he had to follow the troops all the way to the front for round-the-clock morale building and rebuilding. He was expected to do line duty when necessary- The danger, the .discomfort and the bone-deep fatigue left no room for thinking and remembering what now seemed to have happened a long time ago. A thousand miles away can be as good as five or ten years later. There really is something in Einstein's theory about space and time, he thought, if this is what it means-
Aside from the marching, army life did not seem to be much different from the ordinary life of a kan-pu. A lot of time was still devoted to meetings, even in the midst of war. And then various officers would come down to give informal talks, deferentially caned "reports" in honor of the "warriors". Instead of standing at attention the :soldiers would sit or lie around in the attitude of picnickers- But at certain points in the speech a Positive Element among them would bawl out slogans and everybody would have to join in-
Ever since Liu came there had been a good deal of -faultfinding discussions that ended in demerits, demotions and, once in a while, executions. The southward push had been coming along nicely and the policy had always been 'A lot of discussion after a victory; a lot of encouragement after a defeat." After the troops had concentrated at a point beyond Inchon they had settled down for Mobilization .Preparations another series of meetings-
It had started with a meeting of the Party Committee- Liu did not know what they discussed. As relayed to him later in a meeting of all Youth Corps members in the platoon, they had read out Thought Statistics which showed an alarming percentage of Vacillating, Unreliable .Elements- Both kan-pu and soldiers, it seemed, were afflicted with America-fright. On the other hand, many of them took what was promised them seriously, that they would drive the American devils into the sea after three months and go home after six months. But the slogan had changed now to "Think in terms of a long war-"
The Instructor was in charge of the thought of all .Party members in the platoon. The Deputy Instructor was responsible for all Youth Corps members. The squad leaders had all the Positive Elements in hand, who in turn controlled the Retarded Masses in their capacity as unit leaders. All these leaders respectively presided at all the different ‘meetings going on simultaneously, forwarding the messages from above, breaking through the obstacles in each man's mind- Everybody then made resolutions and rose to challenge each other to Arduous Tasks and impossible feats, drawing up all kinds of plans and guarantees to win credits, the more concrete the better. This time it would be International Credits they'd be winning, this being an international war.
They worked up to the grand finale of the Army Meeting which involved the whole platoon. There they singled out certain men of whole squads for the spotlight, those who had signed the most praiseworthy credit-winning pledges. Liu remembered a squad that declared they guaranteed they would destroy five tanks and capture ten prisoners. All the drivers swore "co-existence or co-destruction" with their trucks or carts and  mules.
Such things no longer seemed absurd to Liu because he had seen the effect they had on the audience and especially the speakers themselves. No one is: altogether immune to the magic in the sound of his own voice- Which is why it is more or less true of every man that his word is his bond, however tenuous. Even if the bond is no stronger than a cobweb brushing against his face, it bothers him.
"This time the Mobilization Preparation is too hasty," all the officers were saying, shaking their heads. "Too hasty-" Even then it took a whole week. But Liu imagined that it would be worth it- This appeared to be something that the Communists could never go to battle without, even if it got to be pretty routine.
Liu had got by with a guarantee that he would not cry out if seriously wounded and would carry on if he was but lightly wounded- He was tired of all this mummery- So he was all the, more painfully impressed to see how well it worked on the others. It certainly worked better here than in any other branch of government service. These young peasant soldiers made ideal subjects for the treatment- Lots of them had served before in the Nationalist army or warlord armies of the Southwest.
They had knocked about a good deal but nobody had ever tampered with their minds, so they remained virgin soil- Even then Liu could see that they were shamming half the time when they made their declarations and egged each other on. But as far as the army was concerned, if they could retain only a fraction of this bravado under fire the meetings would serve their purpose-
Liu reached up to touch the long, slim cloth pouch which held his rations of chow mieng, baked flour. He used it as a pillow, folding it over and over. It had become a bit damp from contact with the ground but it would have disappeared if he had not put it under his head for safekeeping. It was early yet by his watch but they would probably start early today; it was already quite dark because of the rain. There was much talking and shuffling of feet outside. Mules brayed.. There were shouts in the distance and the long wavering shouts of men running.
He sat up and slung the soft long gray sausage of chow mieng over one shoulder. Lifting a corner of the oil cloth he went out into the drizzle past the row of caves and round the slope of the hill, to relieve himself.
He heard someone coming after him- When he looked over his shoulder he saw that the soldier had stopped beside a camouflaged cart and was straightening the pile of twigs over it rather needlessly. He was one of those small, slight Szechuen boys, sad faced with a long narrow chin. Liu had no doubt he was one of the men designated to keep an eye on him — to "help" him as they called it, in case he had any unworthy notions of going over the hill. The Szechuen boys, although they were new comrades themselves and needed help badly, would be the most logical choice. Naturally they would. not set fellow northerners watching him, or fellow intellectuals like the new recruits from the army kan- pu schools who, as a matter of fact, looked upon him as an outsider, practically an old kan-pu There were so many factions in the platoon- Liu felt he did not know his way around yet.
The dim roar of guns came at rather long intervals- The tiers of wheat patches were bright green in the .gathering darkness. Two Korean women labored along a path over the rise, balancing big water jars on their heads, their soiled pink blouses and voluminous flowered skirts clear cut against the sky. He had heard that what they wore here was nothing but a handed-down imitation of Chinese clothes of the Fifth century- They looked to him like theatrical costumes in a Chinese opera- The costumes were so contrived that the harassed-looking, honest faces .above them, unpainted and often unwashed, were a little disconcerting.
Going back he had difficulty finding his cave. It faced a leek patch across the path and he remembered that the leeks had grown high and were brilliant green and glossy. Apparently in the course of the afternoon all of it had been pulled out by the troops.
The Deputy Instructor was having his supper. His orderly had cooked him a helmetful of mien - keh- ta,
pasty gruel made of small lumps of flour. He offered Liu some of it and said, "How about getting up some k'uai pao, quick news reports? You've studied the latest communiques, haven't you? Make sure the k' K'uai pao follows the line- Got to broadcast it and drum it in."
"Yes, I've been working On them," Liu answered- "It's .a pity that on a night march the Objective Environment rules out all the usual media — you can't see posters or blackboards or anything like that."
"That's no way to talk, Comrade Liu. Mustn't Bow Your Head to Difficulties." The Deputy Instructor seemed to have awakened, bristling. Sleep had not improved his .mood. Liu wished he could offer him a cigarette.

"Yes," he said quickly. "I was thinking of making up some jingles -- fit them to well-known tunes -- "
"Sure. Make them sing- Get them to bandy songs back and forth. Livens up the troops. You know the slogan: 'Cultural entertainment well done, and the war of the hearts we've won!"
He went on talking in that strain. Liu was grateful to hear the whistle that told them to get started. He had his pack ready and his water can filled. They scrambled downhill to the road.