said he wanted to go up the hill, to the emplacements, to see for himself what was going on.
“Do you want to go, McCoy?”
Instead of replying directly, McCoy turned to the ROK general.
“General,” he asked in faultless Korean, “where are you keeping your prisoners?”
Major Sun was as surprised that McCoy spoke Korean as was the ROK general.
The ROK general pointed down the road. McCoy saw the prisoners, and the moment he saw them—both from the bones of their faces and their quilted cotton uniforms— he knew they were Chinese.
“They don’t look Korean to me, sir,” McCoy said to Almond. “With General Do’s permission, I think I’ll go talk to them.”
“I think it’s best you do that alone, Major McCoy,” Almond said.
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you want Haig to go with you?” Almond asked.
“No, sir. Thank you. Major Donald and I have a little good cop-bad cop routine we’ve practiced, in anticipation of something like this. Put on your nasty face, Major Donald, and lead me to the prisoners.”
“Yes, sir,” Donald said.
“I’m sorry I’m going to miss that,” General Almond said as he got in the front seat of the shiny jeep. Haig and the two MPs got in the back. Since that left no room for him, the driver was left behind when General Do got behind the wheel and drove off.
McCoy went into the fuselage and came out with a Thompson. He handed it to the ROK soldier, a young sergeant.
“You come with us, please, Sergeant,” McCoy ordered. “What I want you to do is point the weapon at the prisoners, acting as if nothing would give you greater pleasure than if the major gave you permission to shoot them.”
“Are we going to shoot them, sir?” the ROK sergeant asked.
“Unfortunately, Sergeant, they are more valuable alive than dead.”
“Yes, sir,” the sergeant said. He was visibly disappointed.
“Okay, Alex, lead on,” McCoy said.
The prisoners—there were sixteen of them; McCoy counted as he and Donald walked down the line—were sitting lined up against the side of the road, their backs against a vertical section of rocky hill that had been excavated. Two ROK soldiers, one with a Garand and the other with a carbine, guarded them.
The prisoners’ hands and feet were bound. The ropes on their feet were further tied to the prisoner on either side, to discourage somebody from running away.
There was a double purpose—triple if you counted simple curiosity—in the march past. McCoy wanted them all to see Alex Donald glowering at them. And he wanted to see if he could detect from boots or a wristwatch, or simply an attitude, whether one or more of them, despite the enlisted men’s uniforms they were all wearing, was an officer.
Alex finished his march past and stood in the road, about halfway down the line of prisoners, and glowered at them. McCoy walked in front of him. The driver took the Thompson from his shoulder and chambered a round. The prisoners looked at him nervously.
Number Four is glaring, McCoy thought. His uniform is pretty clean, too. I think I have found an officer.
“Good morning,” McCoy said in Cantonese. “The officer is from the headquarters of Generalissimo MacArthur.”
Well, they speak Cantonese. There are three looks of noncomprehension. The rest are fascinated. Which almost certainly means the three “who don’t understand”— including Number Four—are either officers or noncoms. Probably officers.
“He wishes to ask you all some questions,” McCoy went on almost conversationally, in Cantonese. “Your answers will determine which of you will be taken to a prisoner-of-war compound and which will not.”
He switched to English. “Shall we shoot one or two to put them in the right frame of mind?”
“Let’s wait a bit,” Donald replied.
Either none of them speaks English, or they’re better at concealing fear than I think they are.
He turned and spoke softly to Major Donald.
“Start with Number Four,” he said. “Let’s take a chance. You say to me, ‘I think this one is an officer.’ We’ll wing it from there.”
Donald nodded, then made a curt follow me gesture and walked toward the fourth prisoner in the line.
[FOUR]
TOP SECRET
URGENT HQ X CORPS 1015 30 OCTOBER 1950
EYES ONLY SUPREME COMMANDER UNC
PERSONAL MESSAGE FROM MAJGEN ALMOND TO GENARMY MACARTHUR BEGINS
SIR
REFERENCE: OPERATIONAL MAP 403
1. AT APPROXIMATELY 2100 29OCT50 THE 26TH INFANTRY 3D ROK DIV THEN ADVANCING TOWARD THE CHOSIN RESERVOIR ALONG THE LINE COORDINATES 323.121 DASH 324.303 CAME UNDER MASSIVE ATTACK BY A LARGE, TANK REINFORCED ENEMY FORCE OF DIVISIONAL STRENGTH.
2. THE LINES OF THE 26TH WERE BREACHED, AND THE REGIMENT IN SOME DISARRAY WAS FORCED TO