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killed some of us in our sleeping bags. It was a grim night, I will tell you.
I was sure I was going to die."
Sunny Joe hung his head at the memory.
"We withdrew under fire, abandoning the bridgehead. The tide was turning, just
as it would all war long. Then on the night of November 6, the Chinese forces
broke contact and went into full retreat. To this day, no one's ever been able
to explain it. They just up and marched into the mountains, never to be heard
from again. You won't read about the Battle of Sinanju in too many history
books, but for my money it was the worst conflict of the war. They had us
cold. But they bugged out."
Remo looked back to the Master of Sinanju.
"You were not near the village of Sinanju, brother of my ancestors," said
Chiun. "But in Sinanju town, a lesser place. And on the night you describe,
the Chinese ran because to do otherwise was to die."
"What do you know about that?" Sunny Joe asked. Chiun pulled himself up in the
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saddle proudly. "On that night I left my village called Sinanju at the edge of
the West Korea Bay, and descended upon the Chinese, driving them back to the
Yalu."
"You and what army?"
"I and no army. Just I."
"Is he kidding?" Roam asked Remo.
"No," said Remo.
"The noise of battle was keeping the women and children awake at night," Chiun
explained. "Besides, I did not like the Chinese in my land. It had too many
squatters already."
"What about the Americans?"
"They looted and raped no one, and so I suffered them to live."
Sunny Joe grinned crookedly. "Well, you saved my butt that night. If what you
say is true."
"It is true," Chiun sniffed.
"Anyway, during our retreat I finally got to see Sinanju. It was a typical
Korean town filled with frightened refugees. I talked to the locals. Nobody
had ever heard of Ko Jong Oh. Or Sun On Jo, or any of it. It had to be the
second-biggest disappointment of my entire life." Then, glancing at Remo, he
amended, "No, make that third."
Remo looked away.
Sunny Joe continued. "Well, the war finally ended and I went home. Landed back
in Hollywood. I didn't know what to do with myself. My father had passed on
while I was at war, and as I saw it, I had failed to find the land of Sun On
Jo. So I fell back into stunt work. TV was coming in, and there were Westerns
galore. I doubled for the best of them. Worked my way up to stunt coordinator
and eventually did some acting. I played black hats and white hats. Spoke my
first line on a 'Rifleman' episode. It wasn't all glory, though. I took a lot
of falls and broke a lot of bones.
"Around that time-guess it was a few years before, now that I think about it-I
took me a wife. Figured if I made enough money I could return to the
reservation with cash in my pockets enough to make up for my failure.
"Then my wife told me she was going to have a papoose. It was the proudest day
of my life. I was hoping for a son. You know, a Sunny Joe to carry on after
me."
Remo plucked a needle off a saguaro and rolled it between his fingers
thoughtfully.
"Well, she did give me a son. A dark-eyed, dark-haired squalling little boy. I
near to have burst. But the birth went bad and she sickened. Within a week she
was no more."
Remo sucked in a hot breath. When Sunny Joe resumed talking, his voice was
twisted. "It broke me up inside. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. I couldn't
think. I didn't know what to do. You see, I had made plans, but now they had
come apart. I couldn't see starting over. I couldn't see raising a boy without
a mother. Not in my line of work. Not with the travel and the hours. There was
nothing for me back at the reservation.
"So one night I flew east, picked out a nice Catholic orphanage because my
wife had been raised Catholic, laid the boy on the doorstep and walked away
with my guts a great big ache and agony."
"That was me," said Remo, his voice dull.
"Now, when I got started, I did my stunt work under a stage name, William S.
Rome. Turned 'Roam' to 'Rome,' after the city. Figured it sounded more
Continental or something. Didn't want the reservation elders to know it was
me. In the back of my head I thought I might go and claim that papoose as my
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