Applause broke out. A man shouted, "Fight the Red bandits to death!" We all raised our fists and repeated the slogan.
He yelled again, "Long live Generalissimo Chiang!" We echoed him once more.
Then the other man began to speak. He had a carbuncular face, protruding teeth, a stout nose, and erect ears. He talked in a heavy Hunan accent that brought to mind Mao Zedongs. He told us: "It's a long wait at the rest area outside the tents. When I'm called, they lead me into a tent. The Commies look awful in the company of the men from the other countries. They're like a pack of hungry wolves. Behind them I see through the window more than ten trucks planted with red flags. This sight scares me. Beyond the trucks stands a tall gate with the words Back Into the Arms of Our Motherland written on the arch. They have obviously planned to ship us back load after load. As I sit down, one of them puts his index finger on the table, leans forward, and says, 'Comrade, you must've suffered a great deal in the enemy's hands. We represent our motherland coming to rescue you. You're a free man now. Please return to China with us.'
"The word 'comrade' sets my heart kicking and reminds me of so much hatred, but I get ahold of myself. 'Actually I didn't suffer that much in the prison camp,' I tell him. 'The Americans have given me food and clothes. It was in your Communist army that I tasted real bitterness. You always treated me like a beast of burden, like gun fodder, and you just used me.'
"'Comrade, on my word of honor, you will be a free man, free to do anything in our country. You can continue to serve as an officer, or go home to take care of your parents, or live and work in a city. Comrade, think – '
"I lose my temper at last, knowing he's a big liar. I shout, 'I'm not a comrade of yours. Don't treat me like I'm an idiot. I know you all lie without batting an eye, you damned Russia lovers. I fuck your mothers and grandmothers!' I turn to the Swiss arbitrator and declare in a shout, 'I want to go to Free China.'
"The foreign man nods at me and then talks to the interpreter, who is an overseas Chinese, probably a college student. Then he tells me, 'You can go now.' Before I leave I kick the Commies' table. The thing tips over and sends the paper and pens flying in every direction. I'm so angry I keep stomping the floor and almost go through the door to Red China by mistake. The interpreter catches up with me and says, 'Hey, take the other door.' That saves me from falling into the Commies' snare again."
A loud volley of laughter ensued. Wang Yong got to his feet and said to us, "Soon we'll go to those tents to listen to their persuasion. Be careful and don't let the Reds take you in. Also, remember that the brothers of your group will suffer if you defect. Understood?"
"Yes sir," we shouted.
Bai Dajian raised his hand. Wang asked him, "You want to say something?"
"Yes." Dajian stood up and spoke to the crowd. "According to the two brothers' experiences, it seems that the more you listen to the Reds, the more aggressively they will try to get you. I suggest that we just spit on them, curse them openly, and express our will to go to Taiwan the moment we enter the tent. In other words, we shouldn't give them any opportunity to mislead us." He sat down and stared at me, his shaven skull revealing several bumps. My heart began galloping; I wondered if he had discerned my plan. I nerved myself for his fierce gaze, which at last turned away. I was amazed by his resolve to go to Taiwan. Did this mean he had decided to abandon his charming fiancee?
Wang Yong said to the audience, "That's a good idea. Spit at them like Officer Bai said. Let's get through this damn thing as quickly as we can."
Now it was clear that I would have to face the persuaders before I had access to the arbitrators. This could be daunting, but I might be able to circumvent a part of the persuasion by speaking to the foreigners directly. As long as I was cautious and composed, I should be able to carry out my plan for going to a third country.
Before I went to bed that night, Wang Yong came into our shed and said to me, "Come along, will you?"
His summons unsettled me, but I followed him out. Together we made for the battalion headquarters. The night was chilly and crisp, and there was a touch of curry in the air from the kitchen of the Indian troops. Two flashlights were flickering beyond the entrance to our compound while the moon cast our shadows at a slant on the pale ground. The inside of the headquarters was well lit and quiet. Toward the center of the room stood a desk, on which sat two plates, one containing fried soybeans sprinkled with a bit of salt and the other, braised pork cubes. Beside the dishes were two mugs and a bottle of saki. At the sight of the food I relaxed some, realizing Wang Yong meant to have a drink with me, though I still had no inkling of his intention. He motioned for me to sit at the table. "I want to have a chat with you tonight, Feng Yan," he said.
"Sure." I didn't know what else to say.
After pouring liquor into both mugs, he rested his elbow on the desk and said, "We've been together so long I feel I know you better now. I like you more than before, truth be told."
"Thank you for all the help, chief."
"Drop that title, will you? Just call me Yong or Brother Wang."
"All right, I can do that when we're alone."
"What's your plan after we get to Taiwan?"
"Frankly I have no plan. I hope they'll let me remain in the army, though."
"Of course they will. They'll make the best use of a talent like you, but they'll dump a man like me, illiterate and unskilled in anything."
"Come on, we're the same, we all served in the Red Army and we're all POWs."
"No, no, you're a graduate from the Huangpu Military Academy. That makes you stand out."
"There're a good number of former cadets here. I'm just one of them."
"No, you're special."
"Me? How?"
He swished the saki around in his mug and took a swallow. "You speak excellent English. Don't think I can't tell the difference just because I can't read or write. I can see how beautifully you speak English. Many of the educated fellows here studied English for more than ten years, and still in front of the Americans all they can say is 'hi' or 'thank you' or 'bye-bye.' You're different, you speak with confidence and ease. I can see that even the Americans respect you."
"You think too highly of me. Like you, I'm a prisoner and will face a lot of difficulties in Taiwan."
"Don't lose heart, brother. I'm sure they'll give you an important position. They have to get along with the Americans, don't they? So a man of your caliber will be indispensable to them."
"I hope so."
"Have some more of this meat."
"Sure."
I picked up a chunk of streaky pork and chewed it with relish. Munching the soybeans noisily, he said, "Brother Feng, once you become a big officer, you won't forget me, will you?"
"Of course not." Tears welled up into my eyes. I lifted the mug and took a gulp of the liquor, then told him, "You're a good, simple-hearted man, Brother Wang. I feel secure when I'm with you. I'll remain your friend."
"That means a lot to me." He beamed and his heavy-lidded eyes almost disappeared.
As we were chatting on, he took a photograph out of his wallet and handed it to me. "What do you think of this girl?"
I looked at it and said, "She's pretty." Indeed, she seemed to be a typical Manchurian girl, about eighteen or nineteen, with a round face, round eyes, round cheeks, and round lips.
"You really think so?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Do you want to make friends with her?"
"I still have my fiancee on the mainland."
"That's why I only said make friends with her; I'm not suggesting you become engaged."
I saw his intention and asked, "Who is she?"
"My niece in Taiwan. She's a student in a business school and studies accounting. She knows how to manage money."
"I can't decide now, but can I keep her photo for a while?"
"Absolutely. Here, take it." He was delighted. "Whenever you want to meet her, let me know. Her family in Taipei will be yours if you like her."