Flood Control Works

Lee Ki-jo had just turned to go when a lovely woman came toward him, smiling.

"Sir, you left your handkerchief."

He slipped a hand into the inner pocket of his jacket. The handkerchief ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was still there — the one Sunrye, his wife, had sewn from the plain unbleached cotton he had brought back from Japan.

"I don't believe that's mine."

He was turning away again when she caught his right hand, pressed the handkerchief into his palm, and spoke.

"It is yours, sir."

Ki-jo looked back at her. She was watching him, her whole face bright with a smile.

"Go safely, sir. You were wonderful today."

With that she was gone, the woman in the pink hanbok hurrying off in a rustle of silk.

Ki-jo looked down at the handkerchief in his hand. It was no man's handkerchief.

Mi-hyang? Is that her name?

A faint breath of women's perfume rose from the cloth.

Carry a thing like this and there'll be hell to pay... I'd better drop it on the way.

Afraid the scent might cling to his fingers, he pinched the handkerchief between two fingers only, and a little distance from Myeongwolgwan he let it fall.

Strange woman...

He had not the slightest interest in anyone by the name of Mi-hyang.

The day after he declared war on the five majors at Myeongwolgwan, Ki-jo found a public notice in the newspaper.

He read the notice through with care.

"Aigoo... Post a notice like this, and what company is going to bid?"

He muttered it to himself, and still a broad smile broke across his face.

A few days later he took a project proposal to city hall, found the Civil Engineering Division, and set the papers in front of the section chief in charge. The man accepted them, stared straight through him, and asked,

"Look here. Did you really come to take this job?"

"Of course. Flood control — how important a work is that?"

"Important, yes. It is, but... You do know that not one company has bid, and today is the last day?"

"Is that so? I had no idea. I can't see why anyone would stay out of a public work like this."

He put on a fine show of innocence.

"You really don't know, talking like that? This project, I mean..."

The section chief glanced around, lifted a single finger, and dropped his voice.

"This came down from above all of a sudden. Even we don't know why, or who sent it. Tell me — who bids on a job that's a loss from the start?"

Ki-jo knew exactly what the man meant, and pretended he did not. Frank had urged the mayor of Seoul to try the project, and the mayor had surely made it on the strength of that advice. The city officials must have been stunned when they saw the sum assigned to it — a figure that made no sense at all. For the work of scooping earth along the Han, a budget of a mere twenty thousand hwan had come down...

Frank had made him a true hundred-dollar job.

"I'll give you these papers back," the section chief said, grinning. "Leave me a little cigarette money by way of thanks and be on your way. I'm saving your company, friend..."

Ki-jo grinned back. From the inner pocket of his suit he drew a pack of cigarettes and quietly slid it across.

"Keep our company's documents on file. And if another firm brings in bid papers, tell them exactly what you just told me."

The section chief pocketed the cigarettes, but the look he turned on Ki-jo said he could make no sense of him.

"Look here. You meant that straight, did you?"

Straight as they come.

Ki-jo nodded.

The section chief tucked the cigarettes inside his coat, cleared his throat once, and spoke.

"All right. Off you go. Come crying to me later and it won't do you a bit of good."

"Please — only do as I asked."

"Hmph. I don't stop a man bent on ruining himself. I..."

He dodged Ki-jo's eyes and made a show of busying himself with something else.

Ki-jo left the place smiling.

The day after the bidding closed, Chung Ju-yung's younger brother, Chung In-yung, came to Cheongsan Brick's Seoul office. Of all days a bitter spring cold snap was at its sharpest, and yet sweat stood out on his forehead.

"President Lee! Is it true Cheongsan Development was the only bidder on the Han River flood-control works?"

"It's a project for the country. It ought to be done. Hyundai Construction isn't the only firm that serves the nation."

"Even so, you should be taking work where some profit is guaranteed. Does money come out of the ground just because you dig it?"

Chung In-yung was worked up as if the matter were his own.

"Dig the ground, and the money comes out. Wait and see."

Ki-jo's calm certainty seemed to leave him more dumbfounded than ever. He all but foamed.

"President Lee, why on earth do you choose nothing but the road to ruin? You won't join hands with our Hyundai, and then you bid on this absurd city project... Why are you doing it?"

Ki-jo was genuinely grateful. The man's worry for him was sincere.

He led the agitated Chung In-yung into a private room off the office, took a sheaf of dollars from the safe, and set the bundle down in front of him with a firm tap.

"This is Hyundai Construction's share of the advance we received from the U.S. Army. It won't go nearly far enough, I know, but please put it toward the Goryeong Bridge."

The moment the dollars were in his hands, Chung In-yung's face brightened so completely it was hard to believe he had been angry a moment before.

"Thank you, President Lee!"

"Don't thank me. I'm only doing what the contract says."

"President Lee. The reason I lost my temper just now... even if you carry out the work, the money Cheongsan can actually collect is far too small... Is there some side agreement I don't know about?"

"How could there be? Don't worry about me. Just give your attention to the Goryeong Bridge."

Chung In-yung drew out a handkerchief and wiped his brow.

"With these dollars, I think we'll be able to breathe for a while. Hyundai Construction is only surviving by joining hands with Cheongsan Development — but what in the world does Cheongsan Development mean to do..."

"Set those worries down. Cheongsan Development is going to grow, and keep on growing. Hyundai Construction as well."

For the man who could not stop fretting, Ki-jo poured a warm cup of tea. Serving a guest with his own hands was something he had learned from Cho Choong-hoon, president of Hanjin Transportation.

They were drinking tea and talking idly when Shim Hansu knocked and stepped into the room.

"Sir, men from the U.S. Army are here."

"The U.S. Army? An order for bricks?"

"No, sir. They're asking for you."

"Show them in here."

Ki-jo rose and went to stand by the door, the way Cho Choong-hoon did. The moment the American entered, he welcomed him with a bright greeting.

"How do you do? I'm Lee Ki-jo, representative of Cheongsan Brick Development."

"How do you do. Colonel Samuel, Far East District Engineers — FED."

The Far East District? The Eighth Army engineer command in Euljiro?

He wondered why the head of the finest American engineer unit in East Asia had come looking for him.

"Please, sit down."

When Ki-jo showed Colonel Samuel to a seat, Chung In-yung started to rise.

"Colonel Samuel, this is Vice President Chung In-yung of Hyundai Construction."

Ki-jo made the introduction and eased the half-risen man back into his chair.

"A pleasure. I understand Hyundai and Cheongsan took part jointly in the construction for the 7th Division."

Once Colonel Samuel showed that he knew Hyundai Construction, the discomfort left Chung In-yung's face, and it brightened.

"But what brings you here?"

At the question, Colonel Samuel snapped his fingers at the aide who had come with him and held out a hand. The aide passed him a map. He spread it on the table and pointed to an area already marked.

"Based on recent aerial photographs, we've marked the silt zones of the Han on this map. From here on, it should be enough for you to remove the mud in these areas."

Ki-jo and Chung In-yung looked at each other. Chung In-yung's face said that Ki-jo had claimed there was no hidden understanding — so why were the Americans involving themselves in the work? Ki-jo put on a look of equal bafflement.

"I am carrying out an order from the commander of the Eighth Army."

"An order from General Taylor?"

"Yes. He directed that the alluvial soil obstructing the Han's free flow be removed."

"Why would the U.S. Army..."

"It is the general's intention to clear the mudflats that would hinder an operation to retake Seoul in a contingency, so that American forces may land freely on both banks of the Han."

"Ah. I see..."

Ki-jo tilted his head, just slightly. The moment he took on the flood-control works, a plan like this was set in motion. Something about the timing felt altogether too fine.

"Accordingly, when Cheongsan Development carries out the Han River flood-control project, the Far East District Engineers will step in as well."

At that, Chung In-yung, who had been listening without a word, asked,

"By any chance, could the engineer unit provide cranes, excavators, barges — that sort of thing?"

"Of course. Extracting the silt from the riverbed will require large cranes. Barges as well, naturally."

Chung In-yung looked at Ki-jo as if fortune itself ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had dropped into his lap. Ki-jo had meant to run the flood-control work on manpower alone; he could hardly believe ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠equipment on that scale was coming.

"If Cheongsan Development sends us the project plan, we will support you with equipment to match it."

"Yes. We'll be glad to send it."

Is this a dream, or am I awake?

He wanted to pinch his own cheek.

Just then Shim Hansu knocked at the door of the private room and leaned his head in.

"Sir, there's a telephone call from the U.S. Army..."

"Is there? All right. I'll be right out."

Ki-jo begged pardon of Colonel Samuel and Chung In-yung and stepped out to the office.

There the line went dead, all at once.

Telephone lines in the 1950s were unreliable, and such things happened often enough. The last of it to reach Ki-jo was You are my...

What had he been about to say?

He thought of ringing General Martin back, then let the impulse go.

So that was how it happened. General Martin asked General Taylor, and that's why the Far East District came.

Something warmed and caught in his chest. He had let them haul away twenty-three trucks and six hundred and thirty-two drums of gasoline, and as if even that were not enough, now the support of the Far East District Engineers besides... He was grateful to General Martin, who gave help that had never even been asked for.

With this, he could turn out low-priced bricks all the sooner. The secret weapon that would let him drive the five majors without a pause for breath had at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠last come into his hands.

He walked back into the private room with a light step, and there he put his head together with Colonel Samuel and Chung In-yung and worked out a plan for the flood-control works.

Chung In-yung threw himself into Cheongsan Development's business as if it were his own, offering his views with zeal. He knew this work the way a man knows a meal he has eaten — the order of construction was clear to him down to the last step. Colonel Samuel, too, spoke chiefly with him, settling how the job should proceed.

Ki-jo needed only to listen, and nod.