Legacy of War

by Ed Marohn

  “What about Ramsey? If he is a war criminal, why doesn’t the US punish him for war crimes?” I asked.

  “The CIA doesn’t need more bad publicity over Vietnam. It could turn into a political storm if we handled it in the US. By having ignored Ramsey’s crimes all these years, we look inept. It would be a mess for the CIA. And please understand, people higher than me allowed this to happen. Also, and I caution you to keep this a secret, Ramsey has some damaging files on a key CIA official. He needs to be stopped, but it’s too messy for it to happen in the US.”

  “This stuff sounds like a spy novel,” I retorted. “Who is this key official?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  I glared at Woodruff. “Again, why do you want me to go on this mission?”

  “Because you had Reed in therapy, and he later killed himself. Your queries through Jim about Reed and Ramsey after Reed’s suicide triggered red flags first at the CIA, and then with the Vietnamese. Ramsey has some contacts who could have told him about your inquiry. It may have exposed you to danger. On the other hand, this created a unique opportunity for us and the government of Vietnam to lure Loan back without us getting directly involved. We hope that the main assumption by Ramsey and Loan is that Reed told you about more than just the massacre—that he also told you about the stolen moneys and gold, hidden somewhere in Vietnam.

  “We have joined forces to erase both our problems. We want to help Vietnam get Loan back. In exchange for that happening, they will return the favor and make Ramsey disappear.”

  I felt uneasy. “Are you saying that the plan to get Loan and Ramsey back to Vietnam is based on them assuming that I, among others, now know about their hidden gold?” I asked, rubbing my eyes. “This is a wild card at best.”

  Colonel Zang suddenly stood up. He looked at me. My body tightened and leaned forward to stand, but I felt Jim’s strong grip on my right forearm.

  “Yes, Captain Moore, that is so. You saved my life and you are an honorable soldier. But remember my price for fighting in this war was significant—I lost my father in the war at Hue during the Tet Offensive.

  “Then, my mother’s sister, a noncombatant, died during the bombing of Hanoi by the American Air Force. She lived a simple life. She and the others deserve some justice. We should punish our own war criminals,” he said.

  He turned away from me and bowed his head to Jim. “I apologize for being emotional. If I can get Loan, and to do so I must help the CIA with this Ramsey, then I will do so. Colonel Tin demands it to be so since he lost loved ones in the war as well.” Zang finally sat down.

  Jim said, “We’re all old soldiers, including James Woodruff, who served in the navy. There is no apology needed.” He looked at me, trying to say something. I sensed he wanted me to relent.

  Zang bowed his head to me, and for a brief moment I saw respect and friendship coming from him. “I do owe you my eternal loyalty for saving my life. You honor me as a comrade in arms.”

  I nodded to him.

  Woodruff shook his head. I sensed his push for a resolution. “We need to come to some kind of agreement, John.”

  “Which is what? I go to Vietnam to be a witness for a nonscheduled trial of an uncaptured war criminal, all the while I’m to be used as bait to help lure these bad guys back to Vietnam? I sense a weakness in your plan.” Forcing myself to stand, I walked around the living room, trying to burn off my confusion and tension.

  Woodruff said, “Look, we monitored Loan’s cell phone through NSA, and he is preparing to depart Boston soon with reserved tickets for South East Asia—Cambodia specifically—departing January 1. Colonel Zang plans to have Loan arrested as soon as he lands in Phnom Penh.”

  Looking at Zang, I asked, “If—and that is a big if—if I go to Vietnam, what are the details?”

  “Captain Moore, you will arrive in Hanoi soon after your Christmas Day to help interrogate former Colonel Hung. You met Hung in the war, and he has specifically requested you in order to share specific information. Quite honestly, he does not trust our government, but you, he finds you very ethical. Your presence could move Hung to reveal the final information about the gold, which we plan to continue to use to draw Loan and Ramsey.”

  “I don’t know why Hung would say that about me. We only met twice, under adverse conditions, and it was so long ago,” I said. My anxiety grew—just like Reed during his session, Woodruff and Zang were not telling me the complete story.

  I continued looking at both Zang and Woodruff. “Since you know about my confrontation with Loan and Hung in Saigon, and the subsequent attempt on my life by the four goons who belonged to Loan, it’s hard for me to believe that Hung wants to be my friend now.”

  Both Zang and Woodruff nodded.

  “You forget an essential element, Mr. Moore. Both Colonel Tin and I insist on your help,” Zang said.

  “Why?”

  “You have proven yourself in battle. And are trustworthy,” Zang asserted. “And since Hung requested you, we now know we can, once and for all, get the truth from him through you.”

  An American, a US lackey, siding with the Socialist Republic of Vietnam against a corrupt ARVN officer would help nullify past South Vietnamese influence and work toward unification. That part I got. But something still seemed unsaid.

  Apparently reading my mind, Colonel Zang explained that Loan and Hung had been accused of accumulating wealth in the war while working in the South Vietnamese regimes: money from bribes under the Phoenix Program to avoid arrest and prison, torture, or death; money from selling stolen supplies from the US Military on the black market; and money skimmed from the reparation monies paid by the US government for war damages. There were rumors of another incident—the stealing of priceless Champa artifacts at My Son. The location of those missing Champa artifacts remained a mystery.

  Woodruff stared at me. “How can we not try to remedy such corruption by these former South Vietnamese officers?”

  His piousness seemed staged. I didn’t offer my input. Jim and I had served in the boonies trying to survive with our men, unaware of such exploitation. The various corrupt South Vietnamese regimes only had to claim they were fighting for democracy to receive billions in US aid. And it didn’t help that unethical and unmonitored CIA agents roamed with corrupt ARVNs.

  Woodruff slid back into his chair and crossed his arms, sensing my thoughts, my disdain.

  “Jim and I were exposed to Hung’s greed,” I said. “However, now that I think of it, Loan was undoubtedly worse than Hung—Hung was just a follower.”

  I couldn’t believe that I had encountered each of these ARVN officers twice: Hung at Dau Tieng Fire Support Base after the ambush at the Michelin Rubber Plantation, and then the Hotel Rex’s restaurant in Saigon; Loan also in the restaurant with Hung, and then on that tense helicopter ride to Camh Ranh Bay with the NVA POWs—Zang and Tin.

  Woodruff sat up, combed his hair with his fingers, and said, “John, based on Colonel Zang’s input, we suspect that Loan and Hung may have accumulated over 13 million US dollars from all these illegal activities mentioned. We believe that Ramsey had a key part in this. He probably abused the US reparation payments program and also funneled military supplies into the black market. Loan and Hung needed Ramsey to get them and their moneys out of Vietnam.”

  As the morning approached noon, we speculated that Loan and Ramsey converted the moneys and material into gold ingots. By 1973, knowing the war would end due to US and North Vietnam negotiations, they would have hidden the gold to return for it later. Woodruff had researched and guessed that the Chinese in the Cholon district of Saigon could have smelted 400 troy ounce bars. Thirteen million dollars would have equaled 895 bars of gold at 1970 US dollar prices of thirty-seven dollars per ounce.

  “I see you guys are trying to do the math on the 895 bars, each at 400 troy ounces with today’s value of $300 per ounce. We estimate $1
10 million. Not a bad thirty-year investment hidden somewhere in Vietnam,” Woodruff said, settling further in his chair.

  “How do we know Ramsey didn’t recover the gold already?” Jim asked.

  “We don’t, but the peace accord in 1973 pulled all US troops out and left Ramsey with no safe access to the countryside, being exposed to the VC and NVA units on offense throughout the area. Moving the gold out of the country from 1973 and after would have been impossible, as the NVA destroyed ARVN unit after ARVN unit from the DMZ to the south. Ramsey was reassigned to the US after he and the remaining Americans were evacuated from the US Embassy on April 1975 as Saigon fell to NVA troops. He would have had no chance to return safely to Vietnam. We assume he waited for things to stabilize in Vietnam.

  “He got Loan out of Saigon on the last helicopters. Hung on the other hand had been captured by the NVA on the outskirts of Saigon, abandoned by Ramsey,” Woodruff said.

  “Why couldn’t Hung have taken the gold before he was captured?” Jim asked.

  “Good question. We don’t know if he even knew where the gold had been hidden. Loan is a sneaky bastard,” Zang said. “That is the reason Mr. Moore needs to meet with Hung and find the truth. He is dying of cancer, so there is a very short window of opportunity for this discussion to happen.”

  It became clear that Ramsey must have bided his time, waiting for the right year to get the gold. He couldn’t get into Vietnam earlier without risking capture. Even in 1997, when the US and Vietnam resumed formalized diplomatic relations, it would have been risky for him. Then there’s the logistical nightmare of moving 895 bars of gold. Each gold bar weighs twenty-seven pounds. That means 24,165 pounds, or twelve tons. How does an American move that much bulk in Vietnam, logistically, without being noticed? Still we speculated; the gold could have been found by others by now.

  “Where is Ramsey, since you can’t find Loan?” Jim asked, sitting up and leaning toward Woodruff.

  “The FBI observing his house on Cape Elizabeth confirmed his departure for the Portland, Maine, airport yesterday, with final destination to Hong Kong. They followed with orders to not stop him. We want him out of the country.”

  “Could Hung’s willingness to cooperate by sending misleading messages is working on Ramsey and Loan?” I asked, looking at Zang.

  Woodruff said, “Ramsey has to act fast to recover the gold, based on Hung’s phony messages that others know of the hidden gold. Ramsey would be getting this info from Loan, who somehow stays in touch with Hung and others in Vietnam.”

  “What if Hung doesn’t really know more than he is telling?” I asked.

  “Colonel Tin believes Hung is being truthful at this time. Hung’s request to see Mr. Moore has impressed my former commander,” Zang said. “And Hung wishes to get out of prison to die at home.”

  “Lot of assumptions to the project,” Jim said. “I have concerns.” He looked around the room, shaking his head.

  Ignoring the statement, Woodruff focused on me and said, “We assume that Hung knows something, enough to guess where the gold is or who else to pursue for information. His ace in the hole is you, John. He agreed to share everything he knows with you. He has cooperated with the Socialist Republic of Vietnam by passing on false info to Loan to trigger all this sudden planning activity and actions by Ramsey to hurry and recover the gold. The main problem we have is knowing where in Vietnam will they arrive. Hung can provide clues to where.”

  “Why me?” I asked, mumbling more to myself, worried about what Jim had gotten me into.

  Woodruff spoke again. “John, the Vietnamese won’t allow CIA agents to set foot in the country outside the US Embassy. It is a delicate matter for the Vietnamese Communist Party, even though we have a trade treaty and diplomatic relations now. Colonel Zang and Colonel Tin have identified you as friendly to their country and the only one they will trust. They want US help in this matter, but only through your involvement. The short of it is Colonel Tin personally requested you.”

  “One other question. Why do we need the location of this gold if Colonel Zang says Loan will be arrested in Cambodia once he arrives?” My scowl must have been evident.

  “Because we also want Ramsey to be caught. The buried or hidden gold is our trap. We have to assume they are taking different paths to Vietnam. Besides, Loan is clever, and he may not go to Cambodia, or he may have friends there who can help him avoid the Vietnamese secret police,” Woodruff stated with intoned authority that should not be questioned.

  I sat back and shook my head. Where would this end?

  After eating a take-out lunch in the dining room, we were back in the living room. We used the time to socialize, hoping the afternoon would resolve any issues. Zang’s bodyguard took my visa picture. I went along with all of this. Deep down, I knew I would not go to Vietnam. No sooner did we settle into our previous seating arrangement, then Woodruff excused himself to take a call. We waited for his return.

  Woodruff confirmed the earlier news: “Ramsey arrived in Hong Kong—flew there Sunday, as I said before. He also has an open roundtrip ticket to Saigon.”

  “Looks like your plan is working,” I said. “What about Loan?”

  “No update.”

  The afternoon sun filtered into the room, and I sought it for its winter warmth and bright light, giving my low mood a pick-up.

  It must have been the hour for incoming phone calls; my cell rang. I struggled up from the low sofa and walked into Jim’s den, answering the phone. “Hello.”

  “Doctor Moore, this is Sergeant Wilson over at Rock Hill.”

  “Hi . . . why are you calling?”

  “As I promised to keep you informed, I wanted to tell you that there was an Asian male, about sixty, who visited Tom Reed’s apartment the day of his suicide. The property manager just thought to call us about it over the weekend. Thought you might know who this was.”

  “No, I don’t know him. What does this mean?”

  “I have no idea. Doesn’t really matter, though—the case is officially closed as a suicide,” he said. “I appreciated your concern about his death. I thought I owed you any updates. Maybe if you knew this guy, he may have explained why Reed killed himself.”

  I waited. What could I say?

  “So it is done. Next time we should do lunch or coffee,” I said. He agreed, and then the dial tone took over before I could say goodbye. Wilson had finished

  I shook my head. Was this Asian guy Loan?

  I returned to the living room and explained the call. Woodruff acted uneasy about the news but deflected to summarizing our many hours together today.

  “First, we allow Loan to return to Vietnam. John Moore will be the catalyst for this action as he returns to Vietnam to meet with Hung to pinpoint the location of the hidden gold. Once the location is known, Vietnamese national police will wait to capture both Loan, if he escapes Zang’s agents in Cambodia, and Ramsey in Vietnam. This is the primary plan.

  “The earlier option of trying to capture and arrest Loan in Cambodia or elsewhere has a less than 30 percent chance, but it is a small possibility. Mr. Moore’s services are needed to ensure the primary plan happens. He will be dealing with retired Colonel Tin, who has personally requested him, and Hung, who also requested him. Both refuse any other Americans.”

  “Wow, I am a celebrity,” I said. My sarcasm didn’t go well, by the look Woodruff gave me.

  Zang looked at me, confused.

  Woodruff continued and said, “We are allowing Ramsey to return to Vietnam. The CIA has not interfered in Ramsey’s trip to Hong Kong. He will be watched until he flies to Vietnam or Cambodia. You should understand that the false message Hung had delivered to Loan in the US is that he learned where the gold is hidden. Hung threatened that if Loan and Ramsey did not recover it and agree to a three-way split that included him, he would use the information to barter his way out of prison with
the Socialist Republic of Vietnam. Obviously, this worked, since Ramsey is in Hong Kong now. Loan and Ramsey also know that Hung has cancer and wishes to spend his remaining days with his relatives in Tay Ninh. His share of the gold or money would help his family.”

  I listened to this update, but I felt that Reed’s suicide needed a review. “If the Asian man at Reed’s apartment was Loan, don’t you suspect murder rather than suicide?” I asked, disturbed that Reed may have been killed.

  “John, it’s possible, and we will look into this, but we have to be careful with keeping our plan a secret,” Woodruff responded.

  “So, Reed is another Nam casualty in all this?” I felt stunned.

  “Possibly, for the good of the nation. To be honest, damage control is essential.”

  “This is crap.” I turned to Jim. He shrugged but looked disgusted.

  Zang asked, “May we count on you to help?” The duplicity seemed unimportant to him. He had orders from his former boss, Tin, and as a soldier, Zang would carry them out. No questions. Duty and country came first.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this,” I said. “I have no experience with this type of operation.”

  “Dr. Moore, you are truly needed,” Zang interrupted.

  “Colonel Zang, let’s give Mr. Moore twenty-four hours before he gives us a final answer,” Woodruff interjected. “Will you at least do that, John?”

  “OK, I’ll give you my answer by tomorrow,” I said, buying time to be away from these two.

  Evening had arrived when Zang said, “We would be honored for your help.”

  Woodruff said, “So you know, the CIA will contract you with pay to do the psychological interrogation of Hung and to be a witness at Loan’s trial. That is your official job. You will not be affiliated with the CIA, however.”

  “So that is my cover,” I said.

  “And our National Police and secret services will be with you for security and protection,” said Zang.