'Don't call me stupid. You don't know me.'
'I didn't call you stupid, stupid. I said the sound was stupid.'
Lâm straightened in the chair, looking ready to launch from it.
Tuấn ground his teeth. He held up his palm. 'Stop you guys. We've got more important things to discuss.'
'You're right,' Minh said, stamping his foot on the cockroaches. His flip-flop instantly crushing them both into a small disgusting mess. He smiled at Lâm while scraping the bottom of his flip-flop on the pavement.
Tuấn knew all too well that disagreements could get out of hand quickly. Vietnamese youths could be quick to temper. He’d speak to Minh privately; he'd shown little but disdain for the mechanic since being introduced.
'I should try to phone my parents again. Let them know where I am.' Thuỳ already had the phone to her ear. Her little round nose twitched while she waited for the line to connect.
'Put it away, sister,' Tuấn said, 'the networks are still down. You're not going to get through.'
She looked at him with pleading eyes before lowering the phone. The corners of her mouth drooped. Tuấn had noted Minh's questioningly raised eyebrow when he introduced Thuỳ as a member of his resistance cell. She was slight of frame, shy and very traditional. Not especially pretty, she was easily overlooked at school. He wasn't even sure who her close friends were. The fragile girl wasn't an obvious choice as a fighter, but she'd done a first aid course and he'd heard her speak of some relative teaching her herbal medicines. She could prove useful. He'd invited her before leaving the university canteen. She readily accepted, becoming his first recruit.
Minh was an obvious choice; they'd been close for years. 165cm tall and bespectacled, he wasn’t physically imposing, but he was a black-belt taekwondo practitioner. He was also a technical genius. He made websites and was an avid student of computer programming, which might be useful if the internet came back online.
Lâm was the outsider. A self-made guy who'd worked his way up on the streets to getting his own small workshop space. He was used to living in harsh conditions, but he wasn't mean. When Tuấn first stopped by his workshop to get a punctured tyre repaired Lâm had done so for free; 'students never have money. Just pay me when you're rich' he'd said. He seemed to know everyone in the ward; policemen, businessmen, gangsters. Tuấn wasn't sure that he’d even left his street in years. He'd been reluctant to leave the workshop to walk one street to Mrs Tam's cafe. He was physically impressive; tall, strong, and with more practical life experience than the students combined. He was four years older than Tuấn. It seemed strange to ask an older man to be subservient. He wouldn't have been offended if Lâm had scoffed at the request, but he hadn't. He'd listened carefully and said, 'if the Chinese come this way, I want to stop them'.
Tuấn was happy with his group. It reminded him of the A-Team movie. Tuấn fancied himself the cigar smoking leader. He'd suggested calling themselves the A-Team, but the others had looked confused. Minh asked what the A stood for and Tuấn had to say he didn't know, then felt ridiculous for having suggested it.
Mrs Tam shuffled over with a grin. The few teeth which remained to her were crooked. She placed Minh's drink on the table atop a paper napkin.
'Another drink, nephews?' she croaked.
'We're fine, Auntie,' Tuấn said.
Another motorist hailed her, asking to buy cigarettes. They were soon arguing over the price while another driver asked for the last four bottles of water.
'We can't meet here like this in future. It's not secure,' Tuấn said.
'Where then?' Minh said, 'maybe your grandma's place. You have your own bedroom.'
'I'm not going to involve her. We shouldn’t have our base in a family home,' he said, looking at Lâm.
'I have to be home before Ten each night,' Thuỳ said.
Tuấn buried his face in his palm.
'Ten? Oh, that's okay sister,' Minh Chortled, 'the resistance only operates during daylight hours.'
Thuỳ studied Minh for several moments, her thick eyebrows knit together in confusion.
'Look, Thuỳ,' Tuấn leaned over the side of his chair and placed his hand on the armrest of her chair. 'This isn't a game. We do whatever's necessary. I thought you were clear on that.'
She let out a sharp exhalation like a teenager might when told they have to perform some chore. 'My parents will get mad.'
'Forget your parents!' Tuấn snapped, surprising himself at his sudden ferocity. He bit his lip.
Thuỳ shrank back in the chair. She frowned at him, wounded.
'Look...' Tuấn softened his voice; forcing a smile. 'We're all committed. You must lie to your parents to protect them. Nobody can know what we're doing, and nobody can get in the way. I know you understand.'
She nodded, mouthing 'okay' before raising her knees up under her chin again. She surveyed her three companions with sad eyes and protruding lower lip.
'I guess... we can use my workshop,' Lâm said slowly, considering each word like he regretted it. 'Just make sure we don’t look suspicious. The vendors in the street are nosey.'
'Okay, gather around.' Tuấn spoke in a low conspiratorial tone. Plastic chair legs scraped the ground as they shuffled together. Tuấn looked each of them in the eye in turn. Huddled close together he felt like a team captain in a rugby scrum.
'Okay,' he said, 'we'll use Lâm's workshop. We'll meet at seven in the evening. Late enough that it will look like a social gathering. We'll meet Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays.'
The mechanic and the two students all nodded in agreement. Tuấn looked over Minh's shoulder at the traffic. Nobody was paying them any attention.
'We'll need weapons,' Tuấn said, ' Lâm, can you do it?'
'What, me?' The mechanic was stunned by the question.
'Yes, you know lots of people. You can get weapons.'
Lâm thick fingers stroked his chin. He puckered his thick lips while considering the request. 'I'll need US money. At least two thousand.'
'Where are we going to get two thousand dollars?' Minh sputtered.
Tuấn placed his hand on Minh's shoulder. 'Don't worry, I'll get it.'
They all regarded him with unconvinced expressions. Two thousand dollars was a lot for a student. It was a third of a year’s earnings for many salaried workers.
'Let’s finish our drinks. There's nothing else to discuss today. We'll meet again on Monday at the workshop. I'll bring the money. Until then, just carry on as normal.'
Tuấn sipped his drink, savouring the taste. The expensive sodas could be the last they'd have in a while. Prices were only likely to go up and availability down. He turned the soda bottle in his hands; picking at the label. The traffic faded into a blur of colour and lights as his mind drifted. His future so clear days before was now unknown. Suddenly graduating had become a prospect of little concern. What would the Chinese do when they took the city? Nobody had fought them since the Vietnamese had in 1979. Did they take prisoners? Were they cruel warriors? Would they rape, burn and destroy or would they occupy and police like the American forces in all those Middle-Eastern countries? Their resistance relied on the latter. There was no planning for the former.
Tuấn noticed his companions lost in their own thoughts. Lâm had an unlit cigarette hanging from his lip. Minh stared transfixed into the river of traffic. Thuỳ sucked her thumb while still hugging her legs with one arm. Her coke bottle forgotten on the floor beside her chair.
Many passing drivers looked at the students like they were crazy; while so many people were trying to flee the city these four young people sat calmly drinking sodas and iced coffee. Tuấn wondered if his father and new family were fleeing. He looked again at his companions; wondering if it would be the last day of normality they would know.
Zhang
6th March: 15:10
It was stifling inside the Armoured vehicle even with hatches and doors open. Lieutenant Zhang had sat atop the turret while waiting for the convoy to
move. Close confinement with nine other sweating men surrounded by steel was unbearable. He removed his helmet and camouflage tunic; his green vest wet with sweat clung to his torso. To touch the vehicle’s metal plates was akin to that of a boiling kettle. Hatches on the other ZBD-04 Armoured Personnel Carriers in the convoy were similarly opened. The crews finding whatever excuse they could to get outside.
The APC's resembled tanks; a rectangular bulk on tracked wheels, painted in green and tan camouflage. The turret appeared small atop the huge body, yet boasted two barrels; a 100mm launcher and 30mm automatic cannon as well as smoke-grenade launchers. Two hatches topped the turret; one for the commander and one for the gunner. Doors on the rear and sides allowed for quick deployment of the troops. The red star of China bordered in yellow stood out on the side of the hull.
Most crews had drunk their canteens dry. The word was that it might be nightfall before they could be re-supplied. Zhang expected potential hardships in proximity to the enemy, but not from the very start. There were thirty armoured vehicles from the 4th Battalion in the convoy; each carrying a crew of three and a squad of seven infantry.
Following the APC's were various trucks and other vehicles stretching back along the highway further than could be seen. Two artillery pieces were deployed at the roadside. The crews stripped to the waist and wearing handkerchiefs over their heads and covering their necks. As idle as the convoy, they smoked and played cards.
They had halted short of a bridge spanning the Saigon River. The nearside was largely vegetation, rice paddies, occasional houses and ramshackle slums. The far side of the river was the start of the city. Zhang's APC was third in line. He could see docks on the opposite bank, but the curvature of the large bridge obscured most of his view. Paratroopers and scout elements had secured much of the route ahead. The convoy awaited their news that it was safe to cross. The bridge was vulnerable to attack. Although supported by two huge concrete pillars and cable supports, an artillery strike to either could plunge the bridge into the murky river.
Zhang raised the field glasses which hung from about his neck. Adjusting the resolution, he scanned the opposite side of the river; looking for any sign of movement. Finding nothing of note he dropped the binoculars.
It had been 09.18 when his APC rolled off the landing craft in the second assault wave. From the outset the traffic moved at a crawl. Sometimes stopping for ten or fifteen minutes. The first wave advanced North-East and engaged Vietnamese forces. Advance elements of his own wave encountered sporadic resistance. He’d heard gunfire and witnessed fireballs ballooning in the distance, but not a single Vietnamese soldier. He began to wonder if he would get the chance to face up against the spectre of battle and prove himself. He checked his wristwatch; 15:12. It would begin growing dark in a few hours. Surely they'd get orders to move soon.
A shaven head popped up from the turret. 'Permission to exit the APC and take a piss, sir?'
'Go.' Zhang barked.
Scrambling from the APC the half-naked soldier jumped over the highway’s central reservation and disappeared from view.
Zhang unfastened the canteen from his belt. He gently shook it; judging it to be about two thirds full. He took a small swig, swirling the warm liquid around his mouth. It had a metallic taste but he savoured it for a half minute before swallowing.
'Lieutenant!' The voice called out from somewhere inside the APC. The head of the APC's Sergeant appeared from the turret hatch. Still wearing his helmet and radio headphones. His face beaded with sweat from wearing the tight fitting headpiece which left only the face exposed.
'What is it?' Zhang could hear engines from some of the APC's start up.
'We have orders to prepare to move.'
Zhang jolted. He whistled, summoning the errant crewman who jogged back to the APC. The engine rumbled to life, it’s vibration shuddering through the vehicle.
Zhang thrust his arms into his damp tunic sleeves. He didn't bother pulling on his web belt, but slapped on his helmet and slid through the turret hatch next to the Sergeant, pulling it shut above him.
The interior stank of unwashed bodies. Doors and hatches slammed shut. Soldiers noisily dressed themselves; cursing as they elbowed each other in the confines of the vehicle.
The Sergeant answered an order from the radio before turning to Zhang. 'We are to proceed in file across the bridge. There's no word of surrender from the Vietnamese so we're to secure our objective.'
'Have the scouts reported?'
'I wasn't told. The Colonel said advance.'
The vehicle lurched forward. Its passengers swayed with the sudden burst of motion. The engine whined as they ascended the bridge. Zhang could feel the steady gradient; it seemed to take a long time for the ascent to level out. He opened the hatch again and stood on the seat so the upper half of his torso was exposed. Although he'd only been back inside the APC for a minute the relief of fresh air was instantaneous, and he sucked it in.
Smoke trailed from a few spots in the city, but there was no immediate indication of danger. He tried to train the binoculars on various points but had a hard time keeping them steady from the vehicle’s juddering motion.
They bypassed the dock, which consisted of a crane, loading platform and a few abandoned cargo ships. After that were occasional dilapidated peasant houses and more vegetation. A few stray dogs ran from the road as the convoy neared.
They came to a second smaller bridge, which was crossed without pause. The armoured vehicles roared along, the constant metallic rumble of thirty motors daring the Vietnamese to attack. A trio of Chinese helicopter gunships flew low- overtaking the column. In the distance other helicopters appeared as specks guiding other columns into the city through parallel routes.
Zhang kept a cautious watch on the long grass and low walls they passed. An occasional peasant paused from their work in rice paddies to watch them pass. Still there was no sign of any enemy.
He checked his watch again, then unfolded the map from his breast pocket. Marking off where they had stopped he traced a line along the highway. There were a further two bridges to cross before reaching the destination; District Two. Another two kilometres.
The convoy was an inviting target. A whole assault team could easily spring an ambush from the roadside. The advance was made as fast as the vehicles could move. Zhang knew if there were hidden attackers they could fire off dozens of rounds before he could spot them, let alone react. The lead vehicle only slowed its advance as they came into a more built-up area of narrow three story dwellings, dilapidated tin-roofed single story homes, a handful of office blocks and areas of undeveloped land overgrown by weeds.
Spotting figures in the distance Zhang snatched up the binoculars. Holding tight to try to steady the view. He identified Chinese uniforms among others he didn't recognise. As they neared, he noticed many wore the lime green uniform of the Vietnamese army as well as some in civilian clothing. All were unarmed and under the guard of a handful of PLA paratroopers. There looked to be as many as two hundred prisoners marching in double-file. Was this all the resistance Vietnam had to offer in protection of its largest city? The battle at sea had lasted all of twenty minutes, with little loss on the Chinese side. The Vietnamese air force had been easily swept aside, and it appeared the ground forces were little threat.
He studied the faces of the enemy as they passed. Most of the frightened faces looked very young; around the age of raw recruits in the PLA. None showed sign of injury. In the mission briefing they were told to expect stout and continued resistance; this lot looked like they surrendered without a shot.
The streets were empty except discarded vehicles and possessions. Occasionally a face peered from a window only to shrink back inside a moment later. They came upon two paratroopers at a junction crouched at the side of the street. One held his hand up for the lead APC to stop. The convoy slowed to a halt. Zhang watched the paratroopers and the commander of the lead APC converse with much gesticulation.
'I'm lea
ving the vehicle,' Zhang said to the Sergeant. Without waiting for acknowledgement, he climbed from the turret and jumped off the side of the transport; jogging to the crossroads. 'What's the delay?' he shouted to the paratroopers.
'Resistance ahead!'
Zhang picked up his field binoculars; surveying the route ahead. It looked empty. The Vietnamese flag hung from many buildings, their gentle motion the only visible movement.
'Where?' he said, still looking through the field glasses.
'Before the next junction.' The paratrooper pointed. 'We were fired on from the right side of the street. Maybe just one guy. There's an abandoned sentry post. We called for a gunship, but Command don't want to fire rockets into a populated area just to kill one enemy.'
'You should've reported an enemy squad then.' Zhang let his field glasses hang from his neck. 'Now we have to clear it the old way.'
The thump of rushing boots on tarmac from behind drew Zhang's attention. It was the company commander followed by a small entourage.
'Why are we stopped?' the Captain demanded. He sweated heavily in his full battle gear and panted for breath.
'Sniper ahead,' the paratrooper repeated.
'We don't have time for this,' the Captain snapped, 'you! Lieutenant Zhang. Take your platoon. Engage and eliminate!'
Zhang snapped a salute then rushed back to his APC. At last some action. He clambered onto the hull of his APC.
'Arrogant asshole,' one of the soldiers in the rear said before being shushed by one of his comrades. Zhang knew they were talking about him. What they thought of him didn't matter provided they followed orders. He took the microphone headset from its peg in the turret. Flicking a switch on the comm panel. He stood at the hatchway so he could get a clear 360-degree view regardless of the danger.
'Dragon section!' he barked into the microphone, 'deploy infantry. Advance in cover formation.'
Each of the three APC's under Zhang's command dispersed their compliment of seven soldiers. Once deployed they followed their parent transports- taking protection from the armour. Overtaking the stationary lead section, they advanced at a walking pace with the infantry peeking around the sides of their parent vehicle with weapons at the ready. The road looked as deserted ahead as behind. The infantry took cautious aim when passing alleyways. The low rumble of the three beast's engines warned of their advance. Any concealed enemy would have the first shot.
The March of the Dragons Page 9