Wartrash - (EPUB全文下载)

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WAR TRASH
HA JIN
Content
WAR TRASH
PROLOGUE
1. CROSSING THE YALU
2. OUR COLLAPSE SOUTH OF THE THIRTY-EIGHTH PARALLEL
3. THREE MONTHS OF GUERRILLA LIFE
4. DR. GREENE
5. COMPOUND 72 ON KOJE ISLAND
6. FATHER WOODWORTH
7. BETRAYAL
8. A DINNER
9. BEFORE THE SCREENING
10
. THE SCREENING
11. COM POUN D 602
12. STAGING A PLAY
13. AN UNUSUAL REQUEST
14. A TEST
15. MEETING WITH MR. PARK
16. MEETING WITH GENERAL BELL
17. THE ABDUCTION OF GENERAL BELL
18. AFTER THE VICTORY
19. THE APPREHENSION OF COMMISSAR PEI
20. ARRIVAL AT CHEJU ISLAND
21. COMMUNICATION AND STUDY
22. THE PEI CODE
23. THE VISIT OF A YOUNG WOMAN
24. RAISING THE NATIONAL FLAG
25. ANOTHER SACRIFICED LIFE
26. KILL!
27. A TALK WITH CAPTAIN LARSEN
28. ENTERTAINMENT AND WORK
29. A SURPRISE
30. THE FINAL ORDER
31. AT THE REREGISTR ATION
32. BACK TO CHEJU
33. CONFUSION
34. A GOOD COMPANION
35. IN THE DEMILITARIZED ZONE
36. A DIFFERENT FATE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ALSO BY HA J I N
 
PROLOGUE
   Below my navel stretches a long tattoo that says "FUCK... U... S..." The skin above those dots has shriveled as though scarred by burns. Like a talisman, the tattoo has protected me in China for almost five decades. Before coming to the States, I wondered whether I should have it removed. I decided not to, not because I cherished it or was nervous about the surgery, but because if I had done that, word would have spread and the authorities, suspecting I wouldn't return, might have revoked my passport. In addition, I was planning to bring with me all the material I had collected for this memoir, and couldn't afford to attract the attention of the police, who might have confiscated my notes and files. Now I am here, and my tattoo has lost its charm; instead, it has become a constant concern. When I was clearing customs in Atlanta two weeks ago, my heart fluttered like a trapped pigeon, afraid that the husky, cheerful-voiced officer might suspect something ― that he might lead me into a room and order me to undress. The tattoo could have caused me to be refused entry to the States.
   Sometimes when I walk along the streets here, a sudden consternation will overtake me, as though an invisible hand might grip the front of my shirt and pull it out of my belt to reveal my secret to passersby.
However sultry a summer day it is, I won't unbutton my shirt all the way down. When I run a hot bath in the evenings, which I'm very fond of doing and which I think is the best of American amenities, I carefully lock the bathroom, for fear that ............

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