The Girl Who Played Go

10

Our platoon has surrounded a village shrouded in snow. The occupants were warned that we were coming, and men, women and children have fled, leaving just a few old people huddled in their tiny houses, which look all the more dismal with their scanty New Year decorations.

We round them up in the middle of the village. They have hardly any clothes, but they hide their skeletal bodies under darned old blankets, and their inane expressions under their fur hats. They shiver and moan, seeking to make us feel sorry for them. Try as I might to talk to them in Mandarin, they do not understand a word and answer in some unintelligible dialect. Exasperated, I threaten them with my pistol, and three of them throw themselves at my feet, clutching my legs and pleading their innocence in perfect Mandarin. Horrified, I try to break away by beating them back with the butt of my rifle, but they cling to me all the harder and press their heads against my thighs.

My obvious embarrassment makes the soldiers laugh.

“Come and help me, you idiot!” I call to one of them. His laughter turns to a grimace of resentment and, in one swift movement, he takes his rifle from his shoulder and plunges the bayonet into the leg of one of the old men.

The wounded man rolls on the ground, howling in pain, and his two terrified companions fall away from me. Having recovered from the initial shock, I yell at the soldier, “You bloody fool, you could have injured me.”

Another burst of laughter from the spectators.

The cruelty of our troops is fed by our harsh upbringing: slaps, punches and insults are daily reprimands for children. As a way of cultivating submission and humility in the army, officers beat the lower ranking officers and soldiers until they bleed, or they slash their cheeks with specially sharpened bamboo rulers.

I find it repulsive to torture innocent people, and I feel sorry for these Chinese peasants who live in ignorance, poverty and squalor. They would scarcely care whether they had to obey a Manchurian emperor, a Chinese warlord or a Japanese emperor so long as their bellies were filled every day.

I order my soldiers to bandage the wounded man and to take the threesome back to their homes. We search their houses and take all their provisions, down to the last pinch of flour. I promise to return everything if they tell us where the terrorists are hiding.

The next day, before dawn, someone comes to wake us.

Hunger has loosened his tongue. We do not wait for the sun to rise before setting off into the snowstorm.