Scars and Stars

by Dustin Stevens

  “And you mean brain washing,” I added.

  “The sound of a gunshot erupted from behind us and we all crouched and snapped around towards the sound. The general stood with his pistol aimed in the air and a smirk on his face. He said a few more lines and fired again, then disappeared through a crowd of guards.

  “He says the first shot was to get our attention and the second was for us to get in line. He also said if it takes too long or anybody tries anything, the next shot he fires will be into somebody’s head.”

  “Sun-Jin had barely finished speaking when someone enveloped me in a bear hug from behind. I could hear Josephine sniffling against into my shoulder and could see Mercer reach out and shake Jack’s hand.

  “We don’t have time for proper good-byes, so this will have to do,” Mercer said as he in turn shook my hand. “I won’t forget the way you boys stayed to aid these people and I won’t forget the effort you put forth in helping them along. Many here wouldn’t have made it without you.”

  “After hugging Jack, Josephine pulled herself back and stood next to Mercer with tears running down her face. All around us people hugged and cried and headed in their respective directions.

  “You boys watch over each other,” Josephine said, her voice cracking as she spoke. “We’ll be praying for you.”

  “Jack and I both nodded and Jack said, “You folks take care. Take care of yourselves and of these people. They need you.”

  “Josephine cried harder as Jack and I waved to them and turned towards the group of soldiers moving off to the left. Compared to the other groups around us we were pretty small, maybe sixty men ranging from the ages of eighteen to forty.

  “Most were in far worse shape than Jack and I, looking as if they’d been marching for months or years. Their clothes were tattered and hung from them like they’d lost most of their body mass. Their hair was long and matted and many wore patchy facial hair.

  “It was only a matter of minutes before the other groups began moving off. The missionaries and non-Koreans were the first to go and we could hear the women wailing as they disappeared from sight. The Koreans went after them, following the same road for a short distance before forking to the east and disappearing from view as well.

  “We were the last group to move, left standing in the road for the better part of an hour. The men milled about and many began to grow restless. It wasn’t until a small plume of dust rose in the distance that we knew why we’d been made to wait.”

  My uncle paused again and cleared his throat. He coughed a couple of times and sat breathing heavy for a moment thereafter. Once he regained his composure, he continued.

  “The plume of dust rose from a troop of North Koreans coming to escort us into camp. We watched as they grew closer, two lines of fifteen each. Combined with the soldiers already with us they had just about as many as we did, all of them holding automatic weapons.

  “Why they thought they needed that much firepower, I do not know.

  “The two lines split apart as they arrived and flanked us on either side. The soldiers that had been on march with us brought up the rear and together they herded us with a three sided box.

  “The pace began at a brisk walk, but before long the soldiers resumed their light jog. We had to match pace to keep up with them and more than a few of the men didn’t make it. They went down and were trampled by the men around them or finished off by the guards behind us.

  “The jog lasted for a little over a mile and by the time we made it there the guards outnumbered us. Six months prior I could have ran ten miles in the summer sun with ease. That day a mile almost did me in.

  “The road continued on as we veered off to the left. We made our way down what was little more than a footpath for about a hundred meters before finding ourselves facing a large wooden gate.

  “The gate was solid, with barbed wire wrapped along the top of it in three rows. As the gate swung open I could see the wall around us extending for a vast distance in all directions.

  “The guards formed us into a single file line and marched us in with them flanking either side. As we marched I could see American soldiers sprawled everywhere. Many of them were even more ragged than the men with us and their faces were drawn and gaunt with hunger.

  “The smell of raw sewage hung in the air and I could see men relieving themselves and vomiting within feet of each other. Behind me a man whispered, “Welcome to hell,” and I couldn’t help but nod my head in agreement.

  “The guards marched us straight through camp and filed us into a large open faced tent. Row after row of folding chairs was lined inside and they motioned for us to fill them and sit down.

  “What the hell’s going on here?” I whispered to Jack as we sat down.

  “Jack furrowed his brow. “Not sure.”

  “From behind us a projector kicked on and a grainy film popped up on the rear wall, the only one in the tent. It showed people working and playing together and the announcer spoke in perfect English.

  “It was an advocacy filmstrip for Communism.

  “When the film began a few of the men booed, an act that earned them a sharp crack with the butt of a rifle. Nobody else said a word and for several minutes we were forced to watch the fake families living happy lives in a society of Communism.

  “When it was over the lights sprang back to life and another North Korean officer stood before us. He seemed to be a copy of the ones before him and I couldn’t help but wonder if they had a warehouse somewhere for manufacturing tiny, arrogant officers.

  “Good morning,” the officer said, smiling to the room. His English carried a slight accent, but not as bad as I would have expected. “My name is Major Han, welcome to the Ah-San education facility.” He paused for a moment to see if the name elicited any response and when it did not, he continued.

  “The purpose of the Ah-San facility is not to serve as a prisoner of war camp, but rather to educate you to the joys of Communism and detain you until this skirmish is over. Once it is, you will be returned to your country so you can spread the good news of our way of life.

  “As you exit this tent you will be given some information about Communism for you to learn. In a few days time we will convene as a group and review the material, that way we know you are learning it.”

  “A soldier in the back said, “And if we don’t?”

  “The major looked at him with a bemused expression and nodded upward. A guard stepped forward and cracked the man across the skull with the butt of his rifle, the sound a loud pop in the quiet tent. The soldier rolled forward and fell to the ground unconscious, blood flowing from the back of his head.

  “Major Han returned the smile to his face and said, “We are an education facility, but we will not hesitate to do what is needed to aid in that process. I hope in the future little incidents like these will not be necessary.”

  “Without another word, Han turned on his heel and strode from the room. The guards positioned themselves at the end of each row of chairs with stacks of pamphlets and as we left they handed one to each of us.”

  My uncle motioned with a gnarled finger towards the album and said, “Go ahead and flip to the next page.”

  I did as told to reveal an old and frayed pamphlet, faded and water stained. I couldn’t make out any of the writing across it but could see the faint outline of red lettering along the top.

  “That too, is an original,” my uncle said. “Lord knows I didn’t mean to bring it back with me, I just happened to find it much later.

  “Page 24 is how the North Koreans planned to win the war. Not by bullets or bombs, but by indoctrination.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Placing a withered hand on my shoulder, my uncle drew himself up from the front porch step. He kept his gaze on the lake before him for a few moments before turning and making his way up the stairs to the porch. He motioned me back to our chairs and said in a soft voice, “Bring the book.”

  I scooped the open book up in both
arms and followed him as he settled down into his rocker. When he was ready I placed the book across his lap, drug my chair a little closer and climbed up into it.

  My uncle waited for me to find my seat, then turned his attention back to the album. He reached out with aged hands and traced his fingertips over the page before turning to the next one.

  My eyes furrowed as I stared at the objects in front of me, looking like several pieces of corn. I stared at the white, hard kernels trying to make sense of them before uttering, “What are those?”

  “Jack and I walked out of that education tent without any idea where to go next. Each of the men in there with us filed out and moved in a different direction, no one destination seeming to be any better than another.

  “We stood shoulder to shoulder and surveyed the camp as weak and wounded soldiers wandered by. A few looked us up and down or muttered in disgust, but most didn’t even lift their eyes enough to know we were there.

  “The men around us were worn and frail, looked like they had been locked away in a World War II concentration camp. Many were rail thin, with bones jutting out at odd angles. They were dirty and smelled horrible.

  “Many gave us the impression that their spirit had been broken.

  “I remember thinking I would rather die in Korea than ever get to that point.

  “We should make a loop of the place,” Jack said at my side. “Get an idea of where things are and what to avoid.”

  “I knew we were both already thinking of looking for the best way out, but neither said it aloud.

  “Retracing our entry, we walked to the front of the camp and worked our way in a counterclockwise loop around the camp. As we walked, guards around the perimeter watched and called out to us in a language we couldn’t understand. Most of the time whatever they said was followed by smug laughter, so I can imagine they were having fun at our expense.

  “Inside the walls, the camp was even bigger than we realized. It was more or less one large square, lined by a tall wooden fence with barbed wire around the top. There were two gates, one on either end, and they too were solid wood with barbed wire.

  “There was a line painted on the ground fifteen feet inside the wall that was meant to keep prisoners from trying to escape. There were a few bodies lying between it and the wall, left as a reminder to any others that might think of approaching the wall.

  “Every fifty yards or so was a small hut with a couple of guards watching over the grounds. Each one carried an automatic weapon that looked ancient, but I have no doubt they worked well enough for some unarmed prisoners.

  “It took Jack and I a half hour to make our way back to the front gate. The lap of camp seemed like a waste of energy at its completion, every angle the same as the one before it. Guards, walls, starving soldiers in every direction.

  “We noticed a group of men huddled near a small fire and moved in that direction. The fire didn’t draw us in as much as the men around it. We walked up behind them and stood on the outside of the circle for several minutes.

  “The men in the circle talked amongst themselves, too low for us to really hear what was going on. After awhile I looked a question at Jack, who furrowed his brow and shook head and motioned with head for us to go.

  “As we turned to walk away a voice snapped out, “Hey! Who the hell are you two?”

  “I froze mid step and cast a glance at Jack, who calmly turned and faced the group. “Corporal Jack Roberts, 63rd Regiment, 5th Division. This here’s my brother Cat, Corporal, 63rd, 5th.”

  “A lane parted through the crowd and we could see a trio of men sitting tight next to the fire. They were older than most of the others in camp and wore the expressions of those that had been through worse before. They seemed oblivious to the cold and didn’t have quite the same gaunt façade as most of the others.

  “The man in the middle said, “5th? We heard that group got put down up around Chosin.” He was a wiry man with thinning blonde hair that was graying fast. A scar ran from his right eye to his jaw line and it tugged at the corner of his mouth when he spoke.

  “We took a few steps towards the fire and Jack said, “It was. Ourselves and a dozen others were the only survivors.”

  “The three men exchanged quick glances and the one in the middle said, “So how the hell did you boys end up here?”

  “I deferred to Jack, who said, “Spent a couple of weeks picking across the countryside. Ran into the 3rd Marines fighting their way back to Koto-Ri and joined up to give them a hand. We stayed behind to offer machine gun cover on the retreat, got taken alive. Ten days of hard march brought us here.”

  “The three men exchanged looks again and the man on the right leaned in and whispered something to the others.

  “Where exactly is here?” I asked.

  “The three men fell silent in their conversation and looked up at us. Nobody said anything for a few moments until the man in the middle said, “Ah-San prisoner of war camp. They prefer to use the term education facility, but that’s only so it sounds better in the newspapers. They don’t want the rest of the world finding out what they’re doing in here.”

  “He stopped short and Jack prompted, “Which is?”

  “Any damn thing they choose,” answered the man on the left. He was a pale man with watery blue eyes and a bald head that gave way to a horseshoe of hair above the ears. “They beat us, they mistreat us, they starve us. Sometimes the guards shoot us for sport.”

  “And what do we do in return?” I asked.

  “The man on the right scoffed and said, “Whatever the hell they tell us to. We memorize and recite their propaganda and we abide by their rules...”

  “His voice trailed off and Jack took a step forward. “Until?”

  “The three men sat stone faced and stared at us. I moved up close behind Jack and we met their gaze full on. “Until?”

  “The man in the middle looked at us and said, “You two meet us right back here at sundown.”

  “I started to ask what for, but Jack grabbed my arm to stop me. I looked up with confused eyes to protest, but he twisted his head from side to side.

  “We’ll see you gentleman here tonight under one condition,” Jack said.

  “The man on the right scoffed again and spat at the ground. He was the most rotund of the group and I could imagine that in a different world he would be a fat man. He had a moustache like a walrus that covered the better part of a red face. His thinning hair was plastered to his head and his mannerisms suggested he was a man that was used to throwing his weight around. “Way I see it, you boys ain’t got much ground to be making demands here.”

  “The man in the middle said, “Shut up Marv,” without looking at him and added, “what condition would that be?”

  “Jack stared at him and said, “We need to know who we’re speaking to and where we can find some food.”

  “The man studied us for a second before running a hand over his chin and nodding. “Son, you have got some cojones. Lucky for you, I like that in a soldier. Might even come in right handy around here.”

  “He paused and looked from his left to his right. “This here is Major Marvin Atwood, on my right is Lt. Colonel Raymond Phelps and you’re speaking to Colonel Harold Spires. These men you see around us here are the last of our division, United States Army 3rd Infantry.”

  “Phelps tossed us a handful of something that looked like corn seed and said, “You boys ever seen millet before?”

  “I caught a couple of the seeds and examined them. “No. Looks and feels kind of like field corn that’s been left on the stalk too long.”

  “Spires nodded and said, “That’s just about right. Stuff’s hard as a rock. You can’t chew it, so you’ve got no choice but to swallow it whole. Body can’t process it, so it prods and pushes it’s way right back on out.

  “Most of what they give us to eat around here is this stuff or week old moldy bread. You eat the millet you have diarrhea so bad you’ll be dehydrated within days. You eat the b
read you’ll get food poisoning and vomit yourself into dehydration even faster.”

  “So what do we do for food?” I asked.

  “And what’s this concern with our health and hydration?” Jack asked. “There are plenty of men around here who are a lot worse off than we are.”

  “Spires and Phelps looked at one another and Spires smiled. “I like you boys more already. You come back this evening at sundown and we’ll talk about your health and hydration.”

  “And as far as food goes,” Phelps said, “Korea has decided to rid itself of anything foul or impure. As such, they’ll give anybody presenting them with three ounces or more of dead flies some real bread. You come in with more than six ounces and they’ll give you some soup to go with it.”

  “I curled my face up a bit and looked at Jack, thinking to myself they pay for dead flies? Jack stared at them for a moment and said, “Thank you sir.”

  “I followed suit and said, “Thank you sir” and started to raise my arm to salute, but Jack caught it just inches into its path. He motioned for me to follow him and we left the fire, the group closing the circle behind us.

  “What was that all about?” I asked as we walked away.

  “Jack waited a moment before answering. “My guess is they would like to not have the Koreans know who the officers are around here. You can tell by the scar on Spires face he’s already been interrogated, but they probably don’t know who the other ones are.”

  “And knowing where the officers are is a bad thing?” I asked.

  “Knowing who the officers are, where they’re assembled and that they’re having secret meetings at sundown could be very bad for all of us,” Jack said and strode forward.

  “I followed for a minute, our path taking us to the small stream of sewage running along the western edge of camp. As we grew closer the stench grew almost unbearable. “Where the hell are we going?”

  “To get something to eat,” Jack said.

  “It only took me a minute to figure out what he meant. We were going to the flies.”