Although the Neutral Zone would be guarded by troops from India, a nonaligned country, this news caused a stir here. The prisoners all knew that the Communists were skilled in psychological attacks. Just showing your face to them would give rise to a good deal of consternation, because they could identify you and make your family and relatives back in China suffer. So unrest again spread among the prisoners. What's worse, the Neutral Zone was so close to the Communist army's position, just two miles away, that their forces might storm the camp and wipe us out. Actually they wouldn't have to enter the zone; just an artillery barrage could do the job.
Back on Koje Island I had thought that some of these pro-Nationalists wrote petitions in their blood just for theatrical effect; now I could see that they truly dreaded the Communists, who in their eyes were savage beasts. Many men, encouraged by their leaders, voiced their determination not to set foot on the Korean mainland again. A petition, signed by thousands of men with their blood, was delivered to Colonel Wilson, the commandant at Camp 13, stating that the POWs would fight to the death before submitting to being moved north to listen to the Communists' persuasion. The Americans were disconcerted, and a deadlock ensued.
Then two officers in the Nationalist army flew in from Taiwan. Secretly they talked to the POW leaders and convinced them to participate in the persuasion after promising them that every prisoner here would get to Taiwan safely. The leaders gave in readily; this was an opportunity to please their future bosses. When they told the rank and file about the inevitable trip, grumbles started rising in the camp, though nobody challenged the decision openly.
To appease the regular prisoners, the leaders took several measures to sabotage the Communists' last-ditch attempt to salvage their loss. The fact that so many men had chosen Taiwan over the mainland must have been a slap in the face to the Chinese government, so its representatives, the persuaders, would make every effort to bring back as many POWs as possible. For a whole week our compound was engaged in mock persuasions, in which some men played the roles of the Communist persuaders, the American observers, and the neutral nations' arbitrators. These rehearsals were mainly meant to prevent the illiterate ones from fumbling at the interview. We were all shown where we'd sit in a persuasion tent, how far away from us the Communist persuaders would be seated, what questions they'd ask us, how we should answer, and how, if rules were violated, we could get help from the arbitrators sitting close by. After the prisoners went through the faked interviews, most of them calmed down. But I was more agitated than before, still wondering how to squirm out of this plight. Whatever happened, I must return to my mother and Julan.
Gradually the mock persuasions evolved into exercises for humiliating the Communists. The leaders had slogans prepared and trained us to insult and curse the persuaders. We were told to berate them freely and that as long as we didn't hurt them physically, there would be no problem. The battalion even held a few spitting sessions, teaching the men how to bring up chunks of phlegm and spit at the Communists accurately. Besides these rehearsals, a cruel tactic was devised, called the Chain Protection, which should have been named the Collective Punishment. The leaders split the inmates into groups of three or four; if one of the men broke his vow and chose mainland China, everybody in the group would be punished. This applied mainly to the regular prisoners, not to the officers, and only our enclosure implemented the Chain Protection. As an interpreter, I was not chained to anyone. Wang Yong seemed to trust me.
In late August a group of officials from Taiwan came to see us, but they were not allowed to enter any compound, so we met them only at the gate. Toward evening, through the amplifiers, they spoke to us, giving advice and warnings. One of them claimed that the Communists had already executed many returned POWs. The head of the delegation said to us:
"When we met today, it became clear to me that you had all been oppressed like slaves by the Communists. Why can't we shake hands and hug one another today? Why are we not allowed to enter your barracks? Why do we have to strain our voices to speak through layers of barbed wire between us? All this is due to the Communists, who mean to keep you here forever. We must remember this and settle accounts with them one of these days… Brothers and friends, Generalissimo Chiang cares about your well-being deeply. You're all anti-Communist heroes and pillars of our nation, so he sent us here to convey his best wishes to you. He invites you to come to Taiwan and join us in our great cause of fighting Communism. After you arrive, you all can follow your aspirations – you can attend colleges, or continue your military service, or pursue any honorable profession. I assure you that we will do everything to facilitate your way to success."
He coughed dryly to clear his throat and continued: "Soon you will set out for the Neutral Zone, where the Communists will try every trick to lure you back to them. This will be the most crucial point in your lives, so please keep your minds clear and don't agree to return to the mainland. To tell the truth, if you yield to the Reds, they will practice the Policy of Three Heads on you. What's that? you may wonder. Let me explain. First, they will nod their heads smiling at you. Second, the moment you leave the Neutral Zone and enter their territory, they will make you hang your heads to confess your 'crimes.' Third, when you have crossed the Yalu, they will chop off your heads. That's their Three Heads Policy, which is already being implemented. Brothers and friends, don't be taken in by them. Come join us. We'll always treat you benevolently like blood siblings. With our joint effort we shall prevail and retake China."
The officials brought us a lot of gifts. Every prisoner got a picture of Chiang Kai-shek, a T-shirt with the Nationalist flag printed on its front, a woolen overcoat, a canvas satchel, a box of sugar cubes, two cans – one of stewed pork and the other of pear halves in syrup – and five ounces of green tea wrapped in a plastic bag. In addition, each enclosure was given basketballs, soccer balls, volleyballs, books, pens, magazines, drums, gongs, cymbals, bugles, horns, three dozen sets of playing cards, and chess sets. There were also four bolts of white cloth bearing over 100,000 civilians' signatures expressing their support for the inmates' cause.
Many of the prisoners were overwhelmed by the gifts. Some even wept while chewing bonbons and drinking hot tea, which we hadn't tasted for more than two years. Some said they would never forget the generalissimo's kindness and generosity. What a difference this was from the Communists, who just forced you to charge at the enemy while feeding you like cattle. The inmates talked on and on; everyone was intoxicated. Then to make themselves look more like the Nationalist warriors, some had their heads shaved bald. Within a week we all got rid of our hair.
I tried to remain levelheaded, knowing the Nationalists well, though I too enjoyed their gifts. The truth was that they badly needed men for their army, whereas the Communists had millions of troops and the largest reserve of manpower in the world. That made the two sides treat the POWs differently. I daresay it was the desperate straits the Nationalists were in that forced them to value the prisoners much more. By contrast, the Communists wanted us back mainly to save face.
If only I had known more about the business of the persuasion. Then I might have worked out a plan. Despite longing for my homeland, I was unsure if the Communists would ever absolve me from blame. How could I explain to them my return to this pro-Nationalist camp? I didn't even know whether Commissar Pei and Ming were still alive. If they were dead, it would be impossible to defend myself. On the other hand, if I went to Taiwan, I wouldn't be able to ease my guilty conscience either. How could I let my mother and my fiancee suffer for me while I lived abroad in peace and safety? The harder I tried to think of a way out, the more disappointed I became. My mind was in turmoil, though I had to appear cheerful. I spent more time reading the Bible to curb my apprehension, particularly the Book of Ecclesiastes, which I read repeatedly and which deepened my sense of human futility. These pages calmed me down and taught me that even though I couldn't find a solution now, it didn't mean there wasn't one. I must be patient and learn to resign myself to waiting. There is a time for effort and a time for repose; a time for knowledge and a time for ignorance. At present all I could do was wait with an alert mind.