CHAPTER 16

We stayed in the village for three weeks. Each day Makstutis and Kang were a little better.

"We have to get out of here," I said to Anders one day in the last week, after we had examined our patients. "The A-bomb carrier is probably on its way right now."

"They can't march all the way to the coast," Anders said dubiously. "If we must go, we shall have to carry them."

Blackie and Kim had been watching us with interest. Now Kim spoke up.

"We've got some real husky boys in the unit, Doc. How about fixing up seats on a couple of A-frames. Then we could _chogi_ them up the hills and they could maybe make it down the other side."

"It's a good idea, sir," Blackie agreed. "Those back trails are too narrow for litters. We can change _chogi_ bearers frequently."

"What about Yip Kee?" Kim said. "Can he travel the same way?"

I looked at Anders. "What do you say, Doctor? It's a month since his leg was fractured. I think we could take a chance on it provided he is carried all the way."

"I see no alternative," Anders agreed.

We borrowed the A-frames from the farmhouse and Pak wove basket seats across the carrying prongs. With wider shoulder straps and some padding our men could carry the patients quite well, changing frequently. We assigned two bearers to each A-frame; it was all we could spare. The first time we tried it, Makstutis, irrepressible as ever, cracked, "This'll be the first time I ever went into action sitting on my ass. I feel like a damn tanker." The name stuck; from then on they were called the tank section.

In the first part of June, Lieutenant Pak and Lee Sung made a reconnaissance and came back with an encouraging report. The furor over the raid on the virus factory had died down. Work on the power house had started but in a half-hearted fashion, either from a sense of defeat or perhaps a shortage of supplies and workmen. The bleeding death had hit hard along the Imjin and spread over the watershed to the coastal villages. It continued to spread as the panic-stricken natives, completely out of control after two terrible epidemics, fled from the disease and disseminated it wherever they went. Most of the enemy troops were being used to try to halt the crazy rush away from the death zone but some of them had also become infected, either by contact with refugees or perhaps in the age-old fashion by consorting with prostitutes in the towns. The result was disorganization and a very low morale.

* * * * *

The garrison at Wongpo, still kept at fifty men, was in good health as they had commandeered plentiful food supplies and driven out or killed most of the villagers who had not already died. They held the harbor and the three boats tied up there. One was Lee Sung's, the other two were much smaller fishing boats.

Counting Anders and the three convalescents, we were down to a total strength of twenty-three. It would not be easy to capture the boat unless we could catch the North Koreans by surprise, but we had to try it. We set off over the wildest part of the country, avoiding all villages or farmland that might still be inhabited. By the evening of the third day we lay on a ridge overlooking Wongpo. Shortly after dark, Lee Sung and Pak went down to see what the situation was. The day had been warm but a cool breeze began blowing towards the sea as the land cooled off. I fell asleep, lulled by the quiet murmur of the distant breakers and the rustle of leaves in the steady wind.

"Doc, Doc, wake up! Wake up, Doc," the insistent whisperer was Kim.

"Yeah, what, what's that?" I struggled confusedly back to consciousness. Obviously something was wrong the way Kim was still shaking me. "OK Kim ... lay off ... I'm awake," I said crossly. I was still fagged out and hated to come back to reality.

"Sorry sir, there's trouble. Lee Sung has been captured."

"Captured!" I echoed. "How do you know?"

"Pak just came back. He says Lee Sung left him hidden near his store while he tried to sneak back on board the junk. He could see Lee go aboard but he never came on deck again. A few minutes later a North Korean soldier came off the boat and went to the police barracks. Two officers came back with him and went aboard. Then Pak figured he'd need help and high-tailed it up here."

"OK, get everybody up. We move out right now," I growled and started to put my equipment on. "Where's Blackie?"

"Talking to Pak, Colonel," he said as he moved away.

While the men got ready, the officers gathered around me.

"What's the plan, sir?" Blackie said.

"I'm not absolutely sure," I said, "but I do know this, if we don't rescue Lee Sung and his junk you might as well figure on walking back to the States via Siberia." I thought over the plan of the village for a moment. "The boat is lying alongside the jetty about five hundred yards north of the police barracks. The houses there thin out along the coast road. You, Blackie, take four men. Swing north from here and come in at the jetty as quietly as you can. If it isn't well guarded maybe you can get aboard before they suspect. Then wait for us. Better take Pak with you ... he knows exactly where the boat is in this darkness. Kim, you take five men and surround the police barracks as well as you can. At least try to cover the way north to the boat. Don't do a thing unless you hit trouble or Blackie gets into a fight." I paused, there was some detail I wanted to be sure of. "Oh yes, locate all power and telephone lines you can and cut them the moment shooting starts. Then hold off the Commies as long as possible and withdraw towards the junk. I'll take the tank section and Dr. Anders. We'll go along with Kim as far as seems safe and then make for the boat by way of the beach while he tackles the barracks. The challenge is Pusan ... the answer, Tokyo. One thing more. I don't want to leave without Lee Sung for two reasons. One, we owe our lives to him, and two, without him we'll have one hell of a time running that boat and contacting help. I'm betting he is still held on the junk but there's no guarantee of that. I wouldn't be a damn bit surprised if the Reds were holding him for bait to catch us, so watch yourselves every minute. Is that clear?"

* * * * *

It was. Blackie and his boys moved off first, going north over a trail that would gradually lead them down the slope and north of the village. A few minutes later we followed. Makstutis and Kang were to walk downhill although they were exhausted from the day's march, but Yip Kee had to ride. There was not quite a half moon, enough to see the trail but not enough to make us conspicuous. I looked down to the village. There were no lights. Even in the police barracks there was blackout, either in fear of guerrilla sniping or perhaps waiting for us. In thirty minutes we were on level ground with the beach a quarter of a mile away. There was little wind now and the waves must have been small. I couldn't hear anything but my own breathing and the scuffing of our feet. There were no dogs and I wondered if there ever had been; dog is a tasty meal to some of these people. Tonight certainly it was a blessing.

Kim came back to me quietly, a short strong silhouette against the low moon, and stuck his mouth up close to my ear.

"We go straight from here, Doc. The Police barracks is on the coast road dead ahead. You'd better cut north a bit before you get on the beach. Watch it crossing that road. In this light you'll stand out like a neon sign."

I nodded to him. He and his men moved away, shadows that merely faded until I was not sure they were there at all. I waited a little longer, then I took the lead with Anders next, followed by the three tanks, all the patients now riding, and the three spare men acting as a bodyguard. We walked in a wide arc, going north and finally swinging down a narrow mud lane between thatched houses to come to the coast road. In the moonlight I could see no sign of life, so, one at a time, we skimmed across it as quietly as we could, dodged the fishing net racks that cluttered the soft sand and got out on the tidal area of the beach. I saw at once that I had made a mistake. Kim was right. We were far too conspicuous out there on the hard sand. I led them back close to the nets and we stumbled on, tripping over the rocks and loose stones that thrust up through the sandy patches, tiring ourselves out in that loose shifting footing.

I stopped, trying to breathe silently. Faintly ahead I saw the outlines of the jetty, the masts of the three boats silhouetted above it.

"Let's get back beside the road," I whispered to Anders. "We have to get on it soon anyway, to approach that pier where the boats are. The _chogi_ bearers are about all in, trying to carry the patients in this soft sand."

* * * * *

We had just stumbled and crawled back over the rocks and debris to the side of the road when a light machine gun chittered angrily to the south. I heard the yelling of commands cut short by the quick blasting crack of a hand grenade. For a moment the flame burned a pattern on my retina so I couldn't see clearly. I thought there were figures moving down that way but I wasn't sure. Ahead, where the masts of the junks jousted at the stars, there was a flash of light as a door opened. A man's harsh scream followed it as thunder follows lightning and then there was a splash, shouts, and running feet on the planks of the wharf. The firing at the police barracks was heavier now and I could see rifle flashes that appeared to come from a second floor window. One of our boys must have marked it down too. The rifle cracked once more, followed instantly by a grenade explosion inside the room. It lit up the outline of the window like a furnace door opened in a dark cellar. Something fell out. After that there was a lull behind us. Ahead, sporadic shooting rattled back and forth from boat to jetty to shore, the flashes jerking about like fireflies playing tag.

I could make no sense out of that battle so I gave orders in a low voice.

"Let's stay here right now. Tanks, dismount and cover the rear. Anders, you and the three guards move north twenty-five yards and cover both sides of the road. Stay hidden, halt everybody, and don't forget to give the challenge before you shoot." I returned to Makstutis. "I'll drop back south a bit," I said, "and outflank anybody you stop."

I walked away and hid behind poles supporting one end of a large fishing net that was hung on the long racks to dry. The shadows broke my silhouette but I could see well through the net.

Across the road the low thatched roofs of the houses formed an almost unbroken bar of shadow against the faint light of the moon. I had been looking at it for a long time. I stared at it once more and thought I saw slight movements in the blackness. I looked away and tried the old trick of not staring straight at where I wanted to see, to give my night vision a better chance. There it was again!

"Halt!" Makstutis gave the order in Korean. There was neither movement nor sound now.

"Pusan!" He hissed the word explosively. Still no answer!

* * * * *

The light from his grenade was an instant before the roar. Crouched along the walls of the houses across from me was a group of men, more than five, maybe ten, spread apart for safety. He had caught the first two with the explosion, the grenade right between them. The others opened up, firing generally north and across the road, hoping to catch their assailant.

"Makstutis is smart," I was thinking. "I'd probably have used my gun and given my position away first thing." I marked the approximate area of the flashes and, from my knees, covered it with one swinging burst and then dropped behind the poles. The answering fire went over my head and now our tanks really let go, all six of the men blasting at the black shadow. It was enough. There was no answer. Except for an occasional moan and some dragging and scrabbling in the dirt, I heard only the ringing in my ears. Five minutes later I decided it was safe to go back to my men.

The battle south of us stuttered and chattered as the burp guns spat at each other. Northward it was quiet, too much so. An hour went by. Then I heard the challenge again.

"Halt! Pusan!"... "Tokyo!" came the answer. It was Kim.

"What the Hell's going on?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said. "I think Blackie has the bear by the tail and can't let go. There hasn't been a sound for a long time."

"We've got the Reds bottled up in the barracks," Kim said cheerfully. "All except a patrol of ten that got out and went north. I figured you could hold them while we took care of the rest."

"We cleaned them up. They're lying over there across the road."

"That's real neat work, Doc." I imagined him smiling in the dim light. "Now what do we do?"

"Damned if I know," I admitted. "We'd better try to find Blackie, I guess."

We found him lying behind the heavy timbers of the jetty where it joined the road. He was boiling over with anger and frustration.

"The so-and-so's went back down inside the boat when the fighting started and I don't dare go after them. They've still got Lee Sung there and threaten to kill him if we attack. I told them we'd show them real torture if they hurt him and promised to let them go free if they surrendered but I guess they're counting on being rescued."

* * * * *

"Any of your men ever do any sailing?" I asked.

"I have a couple who know how," said Kim. "What's in your mind?"

"We can't get to the engines of the junk and I'm afraid to stay here." I turned to Kim. "Did you ever get those power and phone lines, by the way?"

"Yeah, I got them; but they could call for help if they have a battery-powered transmitter."

"That's what's worrying me," I said. "The only alternative I can think of is to get on that junk and try to sail the damn thing away. Maybe, when they find out they are at sea, the gooks will surrender. Kim, you go back and hold the fort while we try to get on the boat."

"But sir," Blackie spoke up, "when we go we'll have to take all three boats or the garrison might take after us."

"I forgot about that, Blackie," I said ruefully, and then, as the thought struck me, "Say, maybe one of them has an auxiliary motor and we could tow the whole lot out to sea. Is there anyone on the little boats?"

"I don't think so. I watched for a while when the fight started and didn't see anybody. But they're small," he concluded doubtfully. "I wouldn't bet on any engines."

"Engines or no engines," I decided, "we take all three boats. Can you get aboard them safely?"

"We'll have to rush the big one," Blackie replied. "There's a couple of ports they can fire through that cover most of the wharf except out towards the bow."

"Let's see if we can find a rowboat first, or make a raft from those fish racks," I said. "Then you can row out to the end of the wharf with three or four men and approach the junk head on. While you're about it, check the fishing boats for engines but don't start them up if they have any. Tie all three boats together and find something we can use for paddles or oars too. We'll try to float away with the tide. It seems to be going out now."

Down by the nets we found a long flat-bottomed rowboat that seemed serviceable. It was a struggle to get it to the water but we managed with the help of some choice swearing and rude remarks about Korean fishermen and Marine operations in general. The long sweep oars were stacked by the nets and, in a short time, Blackie and his amateur crew splashed out into the darkness. Some time later he was back with one man.

"We got aboard," he related proudly, "and found the two fishing boats have small motors that might be enough to pull the big junk along for a while. We've got them all tied together and I left three men on the deck of Lee Sung's boat. They can make sure the gooks keep their heads inside but we'll have to ferry everybody out to the small boats first. We still can't risk crossing that wharf."

"OK," I agreed. "Start ferrying the tanks. I'll go and get Kim and his gang."

There was no more firing around the barracks. Either the Reds were waiting for daylight or perhaps for help. The moon had set and in the blackness finally I found Kim and explained the situation. We sent off all the men and together we sat and watched for a surprise sortie from the building. It must have been about two in the morning when Blackie sent back for us. We were the last to leave and, as I passed the racks, I pulled off a fishing net.

"Give me a hand with this, Blackie, I want to take it along with me."

"What on earth for, Colonel?"

"We can't get below decks on the junk. Our food is low. We can try for fish with this. What about water?"

"Everybody filled their canteens with water before starting.

"It's not enough," I complained, "but we can't wait now."

By this time half our men were on the deck of the junk. The sick men stayed in the smaller craft in case of trouble. We filled the rowboat with six of the strongest men and cut loose from shore. With the ebbing tide to help, the rowboat crew pulled slowly away from the wharf, aided by others paddling in the fishing craft. Our prisoners made no noise and we could hear no sounds of pursuit. An hour later we started the small boats' motors.

My first impulse had been to run for the open sea, beyond the territorial limits of North Korea but I reconsidered. The Soviets, if they were looking for us, wouldn't bother about the niceties of international law. We were fair game until picked up. So we putted along the coast, running towards the thirty-eighth parallel. Shortly before dawn we sailed close in to the rugged shoreline and anchored. We loosed the small boats and ran them in to shore behind a rocky headland. Perhaps a reconnaissance plane would miss us in the shelter of the cliffs. We would have to chance the wind and weather in our rather insecure hideout.

* * * * *

Sitting on the pebbly beach beside Anders, I was wondering what to do next when he broke the silence.

"I believe I have a solution, Doctor," he said in his precise manner, "if you will give me permission to try."

"What can we lose?" I said.

Approaching Lee Sung's vessel from dead ahead, we climbed over the bow. Anders leaned over the side and yelled in fluent Korean for the senior officer of the Communist soldiers. After a short silence there was a rough shout from the forward port.

"What do you want with me?"

Anders talked slowly and clearly. "I am Dr. Anders from the virus factory. You know I escaped and that I cannot go back if I want to live. Therefore, if this boat is found by your comrades I will kill you before I die myself."

"You cannot touch us and you cannot sink the boat. Your threat does not scare me." The Red officer did not attempt to conceal his scorn.

"I promise you that if you free Lee Sung we will set you ashore and let you go unharmed."

"I do not trust traitors," yelled the Korean. "We will not surrender. You will be caught soon by our patrols."

"That will do you no good," countered Anders. "Listen to me! I have vials of the bleeding death with me. All of us, including your prisoner, are protected against it. If you do not surrender now I will break the vials and spread the disease through the ship. Even if you are rescued you will still die."

We could hear the angry arguments below deck. All of them had seen death from hemorrhagic disease in its new virulent form. It was a horrible sight even to a physician, and, to the uneducated soldiers, the thought of those purple mottled bodies with blood red eyes, retching and vomiting their lives away, must have been terrifying. The wrangling stopped and the senior officer called out.

"How do you plan to do this if we consent?"

"How many men have you?" Anders asked.

"We are twelve altogether."

"Then send up four men, including the other officer, unarmed. We will put them ashore where you can see them. The second time four more will go. The last time, you will come up and bring Lee Sung. If he is in reasonable condition you too will go. Otherwise you die."

"It is agreed. We come now."

There was no further trouble. Lee Sung had been beaten in the usual Korean fashion but he was so glad to be free he claimed he felt fine. The North Koreans disappeared quickly along the beach as if afraid we might shoot.

"We'd better get out of here right now," said Lee Sung. "They can reach a good sized village north of here in an hour and give the alarm."

"All right," I agreed. "You take over."

He led us below and, after shifting some cargo, opened up a small space under the false deck, forward of the engine room. In it he had a powerful radio transmitter, a case containing two heavy machine guns with ammunition, and a few boxes of burp guns and grenades.

"I used to run guns to the guerrillas," he explained. "These may be very useful."

* * * * *

We set up the machine guns on deck and I felt better. By now we were running south at the full speed of the powerful engines, the two small junks towing behind, still manned and helping with their own engines. Sung had said we might need them when I suggested sinking them before we hauled up our anchor. I steered the course while he worked his radio, trying to raise his contacts and get help to us. It took some time but finally he came on deck smiling.

"I got them," he said. "We rendezvous with a destroyer off the coast tonight. It will escort us to Japan."

"What do we do in the meantime?"

"There is danger that the Communists picked up my signals and got a bearing. If the coast patrol or the jets don't see us we will be OK."

"What about our own jets? Can't we get fighter cover?"

"Only as a last resort ... and it would probably be too late. The Air Force has been warned to avoid all incidents and they do not wish to fly close to the coast."

* * * * *

The sun was almost gone behind the hills of the steep Korean coast when the Red jets found us. They came out of the sun, as experienced fighters do, and the high whistle was already over us before we saw them.

"Migs!" I yelled and ran to the stern. "Cut loose! Spread out and head in to shore."

The little boats swung to starboard almost at once and wavered off like water beetles trying to dodge a dragon fly. Lee Sung was at the wheel again. He spun it sharply and the bow swung towards the shore. There was shelter in a narrow cleft between a rocky pinnacle and the cliffs of the mainland if we could reach it. We would have to chance the depth of the water. By now the jets were around again and peeling off for the attack. They were coming in low from the northwest this time as we were getting some protection from the shoreline. I watched them come, feeling helpless without a weapon, ready to drop behind the mainmast when I saw the angle of flight. At the stern, Makstutis was lying flat, his helmet back on his head and his teeth bared as he squinted over the barrel of the heavy machine gun into the bright light. Beside him Kang was feeding the belts. Propped up against the side, Yip Kee braced his automatic rifle on the wooden rail and waited calmly. I swivelled around. Blackie and two others had the forward gun aimed and waiting. In the little junks, dropping rapidly astern, I saw that Kim and his men were already fighting. Their puny burp guns popped bravely at the two jets which, ignoring them as too small, were concentrating all their attention on us.

The leading jet grew larger, filling the sky with its round open face and stubby wings. The tracers from Makstutis' gun floated lazily upwards and then seemed to snap past, below the airplane, and wink out. Too low, I thought, and dropped flat as the Mig hit out at us. The ship heeled over, sliding like a runner for base as Sung clawed at the wheel. The screaming roar of the jet and the impact of cannon shells and bullets on wood went by me once, and then again as the second Mig swept overhead. I looked back. Makstutis was unhurt but Kang was rolling around clutching at his legs. I got up and ran to him. That last minute swerve and the sight of the tracers coming up had been enough to divert the pilot's aim. Perhaps the bumpy air currents of the cliffs helped. I thanked God as I ran that there were none of the new guided missile planes around. The shells had ploughed through the stern rail and ripped up the port side of the deck, missing the machine gun but catching Kang's legs.

* * * * *

I was down on my knees beside him for ten seconds. Probably fractures of both tibiae I estimated. No time for splints! I grabbed him by the collar and dragged him, moaning with pain, into the companionway where Anders had stuck up his head.

"Compound fractures, both legs," I screamed hoarsely. "Get him below and fix him up. They're coming back."

He scrambled up to the deck, picked up Kang with the broken legs dangling and staggered down the steps. I turned to go out but the roaring chattering horror was back. I dropped and slid down the stairs, careless of the bruises, the violent swerving of the boat throwing me off the companionway to the deck below.

I got back on deck. Makstutis was still at his gun with Yip Kee feeding the belts to him. The forward crew had been hit. Two lay quietly, limbs sprawled out in a grotesque swastika. The third man, dripping blood from one arm, was trying desperately to lift the overturned gun. In the wheelhouse the windows had been shot out but, as I ran forward, I could see Lee Sung, his face bloodied by flying splinters, hunched gamely as he spun the wheel and sideslipped and twisted desperately for shelter. I reached the fallen machine gun and propped it up, the muzzle pointing high. The wounded man was Don Lim, younger brother of the man who had died in the gorge. My throat filled up tight. Blackie was dead!

"Can you feed the belts Don?" I gasped. He nodded and his bloody hands groped painfully for them, laying them flat. There was still a little time. I dragged the bodies of the dead men in front of the gun and piled the heavy fishing net I'd brought on top of them. Blackie wouldn't have minded, I thought ... and it might help some. I dropped down beside him.

We were close in to shore now and the Migs had to come in straight over us from the north. They were very low, trying to get a longer time on the target. I pointed the barrel of the gun straight back towards them and canted it up as high as it would go. There was little hope of aiming at that speed. I ducked low behind the barrier. The roar of the first Mig deafened me as I held the bucking gun, my head almost flat on the deck. Something hit my helmet hard, the jerk knocking it back off my forehead and wrenching my neck. Vaguely I felt a ripping at my left heel and a burning of the flesh. The first roar was gone and then the second. I rolled over. There, shrinking to a toy behind us, the leading Mig was climbing steeply, smoke pouring from it as it tried to gain height. It slowed, stalled, and began to nose over. I saw the pilot bail out, the ejection seat shooting him away from the plane. He dropped and the parachute opened as the Mig, twisting and gliding out of control, smashed into the hillside.

* * * * *

I started to get up, howling with excitement, until I saw Lim slowly fall over beside me on to the smoking fish net. He had fainted from loss of blood, his arm almost amputated by that first wound. Only as I dragged him away from the net did I realize that it had stopped an incendiary shell and saved us both. I took off his belt and tightened it around the arm as a tourniquet. Before I left him I checked, but aside from wood splinters off the deck he seemed to have no other injuries. Back at the stern I could see Anders working over Makstutis. He had fragments through his right arm but was still ready to fight. Yip Kee was exhausted and lame from his efforts but unhurt. I stood up to look for the other Mig. We were very close to shore now. Suddenly the junk lurched, scraped forward and stopped, throwing me against the rail. I pulled myself up again and looked around. We were grounded solidly between the rocky spur and the cliff. At least the Mig couldn't get at us now.

It didn't try. We heard it circle over the fallen parachute and then fly north. Lee Sung came back from the wheelhouse.

"We'll have to get out of here before a patrol boat finds us," he said. "It will be dark in half an hour. We can go in the small boats to find the destroyer."

The light was dim as we lowered the last wounded man into the small junks. We had smashed the radio after sending a final signal and then Lee Sung, his face impassive in the torchlight, placed a demolition charge on the engines and several more along the hull. I took a last look at Blackie and his buddy where we had laid them below decks. We pulled away, the engines chugging steadily. I looked at Makstutis and his face was wet. I was having a hard time myself.

In the afterglow the junk faded into the background as we drove straight away from the coast into a choppy sea, raised by the freshening wind. A momentary flash and a series of dull heavy thuds marked her end. I bent over Makstutis to adjust the bandage on his arm. He peered up at me.

"Doc, you've got holes in the head," he said and grinned.

I pulled off my helmet and looked at the neat bullet marks through the top. "Didn't let any sense in." I rubbed my sore scalp. It was only then I remembered my torn heel. I pulled off my boot and looked at it. It was only a small flesh wound.

"You and Achilles," Anders said and smiled.

"Yes, but he lost the fight. We've won."