"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.