Children of the Enemy

by Steven DeBonis

  So I do that, and I go through all this paperwork, applyin’ to leave Vietnam to go to America. They accept my documents, but they always put my paperwork on hold. They don’t process it, because it looks like they don’t like me at all. They know about me, that I’m the leader of the Amerasians at the park, that I been twelve years in the reeducation camp. They know that I speak English fluently, and they suspect that I am an American spy.

  That’s the way Vietnamese Communists are. When they don’t like you, but they cannot put you in jail, they put your paper on hold. See, when they put your paper on hold, you might be depressed, you become bored. You might go the wrong way, commit a crime. Then they can arrest you easier. That’s the way the Communists do it.

  So I went to the Tan Son Nhut airport. At that time there was an ODP interview group who was working there, doing the interviews with Amer-asians. I went there tryin’ to talk with someone, but the policeman won’t let me in. So I’m just hanging out until lunch time, and I see this one very tall black American walking out. I approach him, and I say, “Sir, I need your help.” So he says, “Write it down and give it to me.” I wrote a letter, and the next day I went back, but when that man walked out, his hands were so full of files that he cannot even get my envelope, so I just put it in his pocket. He went down to his van and took a picture of me, and he went back to Bangkok the next day. About three weeks later I received a letter from the Bangkok office of the ODP program. They gave me an ID number that means they opened my file. So I’m thinkin’ everything is goin’ to be fine, I don’t have to register in Vietnam anymore. Then, I met this white American, they call him Bill, but his name is William Flamby. He’s got a Vietnamese wife, and he speaks fluent Vietnamese. I ask him, “What do I need to follow up, to get out of the country?” He say, “I think you should register again, because your old records, they [the Vietnamese authorities] might tear them up.” So I went back and I made another application, and while I’m waiting I still try to help the other Amerasians.

  We set up tents in Amerasian Park because the rainy season is coming. Everything is legal. The police say we can stay there now. But they tell me that I’m responsible for all these Amerasians, and if anything happens, they are going to get me.

  During that time, Mr. John R., he comes back again, and I was talkin’ to him about rentin’ an apartment so we can move off the street. The tents were no good for the rainy season. The wind was blowin’ so hard we were all gettin’ wet inside. So we decided to rent two apartments, we call them half-way houses, and I would run them. John R., he gave me the money, and he told me to take care of all that. But I just don’t want him to think that I will use it for other things, so I tell him, “You go with me to rent the apartments.”

  So I take him to the landlord, and we talk to the landlord about the price. Then we count the money and pay the landlord. Everything is complete, and we get the receipt. And he tells me, “You know, Raymond, you can rent it all yourself. Why’d you bring me here? They charge more if they see there is an American here.” I say, “I know that, but I want to make sure that you trust me. Because I know that someone might think that I use that money.” Because it’s big money he give me, about three million piasters [three to five hundred dollars]. So after that he gave me money for rice and some food, charcoal, everything, and he said, “Okay, Raymond, I will go back to America next month, but I will be back here every month to try to support you.” So he went back to America tryin’ to call up people to get donations.

  I try to set up two English classes, one in the morning and one in the evening, but we can’t find volunteer teachers. Everybody wants to get paid, and we don’t have much money, so I wind up doing the teaching myself. At the same time I have to write up a list every day of who’s staying at the apartments. The police, they want that because they be afraid that the Amerasians could cut out of that place and do the crime. It’s very hard for me, I have so much to do. So I meet Tuan Den, the guy who was the Amer-asian guard in the second camp, and he says he will help me to keep peace and order. That means he will give them instruction about following the rules of the apartment—everybody goin’ to bed at nine o’clock, no noise. Don’t fight inside the apartment, don’t steal, no drink, no drugs. I’m afraid if there is a lot of noise, we may get kicked out.

  Some of the Amerasians don’t like those rules, they are too strict. So they just cut out and go back to the street again, even though it’s rainy season. They want to drink, you know, do anything they want. This they cannot do. We can’t mess up because it’s very difficult for me to ask permission to rent the place.

  Some of the Amerasians obey the rules, some not. But Tuan Den, he’s not like me. He don’t like to talk, he beats them up. When they drinking, they come back to the apartment and try to raise hell, make all this noise, and make trouble for the other guy, he just say, “Okay,” and he uses the stick, whippin’ them on the butt. I got to tell him, “Please don’t do that, that’s not the way. This isn’t a prison, it’s a halfway house. What are people gonna think about this place?”

  Also, a lot of people come lookin’ for me. They want to buy some Amerasian, you know what I mean. They pay an Amerasian to say that they are a son or a daughter, and then their family can go to America with that Amerasian. But I don’t go tryin’ to deal, I always refuse that.

  After three months, John R. comes back, and the Vietnam administration wants to see him. So we go up there, and they say, “Okay, we have no relationship with America yet, so you only here like a tourist, you on vacation. If you want to run this organization, you got to have permission from the government. If not, we gonna close it down.” And they tell John R. that they want him to give them all the money he collected for the Amerasians and that they will use it to help all orphans, Vietnamese and Amerasians. They want his money in their hand.

  So John R. says, “Who is responsible for the Amerasian? You are. But you can’t take care of them, because you say you poor. So why don’t you take care of the Vietnamese children, and I take care of the Amerasians. This money is not enough for both.”

  They say, “No. Unfair, inhumane.” So John R. says, “If you don’t let me continue, I just go home.” And they say, “Okay,” and they stand up, and that’s the end of the meeting. After that, they got this undercover agent always followin’ John R. I don’t know what kind of information that agent gave to the officials, but later, they call John R. back again. They say, “How do we know you not abusing these Amerasians. How do we know you not using the money for yourself?” So John R. say that he got all these documents. Everything is organized, everything is legal. But these Communists, they so dumb, they don’t know what it’s all about. They insist that he’s a spy. They say, “You have to leave the country in twenty-four hours,” and they fine him one hundred dollars for opening his organization illegally.

  They take a picture of him, and about two days later, after he’s gone, the newspaper comes out, and he’s on the headline. “Don’t listen to this black American. He’s a veteran, a spy, he comes here trying to abuse the Amerasian, tryin’ to fool the people, tryin’ to get the money.” They talk bad about John R. in the newspaper, but all he was trying to do was help Amerasians.

  So they give the order, “Raymond, you should close down [the apartments and the English program] in two more days.” Now, when John R. came, he gave all us number tags. They got little American flags outside. So the police tell me to get all the tags back, don’t let the Amerasians wear them anymore, because it don’t look good in Vietnam when you wear the American flag. So I have to get the tags back, and when I turn them in they say, “Some are missing.” And I say, “Well, some Amerasians, I don’t know where they went to.” And they say, “What about yours?” I have one also, mine is number one, I was the first to get one. I just say, “I lost mine,” but I still got it until now. I brought it with me, and I got it here.

  I see now we have to be independent, because John R. cannot come back no more. So I try to d
o some business. I order some bread, and I give it to the Amerasians to sell so that we can make money for food. So they do that, and the first day they bring the money back, but second day, I am waitin’ for them, they don’t bring the money back. I see one of them on the street, I say, “How come you don’t come back with the money? Your friends have no food.” And he say, “Oh, somebody beat me up and took it.” I know he’s tellin’ me a lie, he’s so scared. I say, “Tell me the truth.” He says, “Oh, yesterday I see a friend of mine and we have a party, and I drink away all the money.” And I say, “Oh, how am I gonna pay the guy who gave me the bread?” But I don’t let Tuan Den know. If he knows about that, he would beat that guy to death.

  So we have no money for food, and we have no money for rent, and we have to move out of the apartments. But at that time, Dam Sen Transit Center for Amerasians is already built, and the Amerasians who already applied to go to America and are waiting to be called, they can stay there. They don’t have to live on the street anymore.

  The time I organized the two apartments, many Americans came and visit us. They wanted to see how we live in the house, you know, they donate a bit of money. I met two persons there, they from Boston, and they ask how I can speak English. So I talk about how I be growin’ up on the base with Robert Handler, and they ask me if I know his address. I say, “My memory is that he’s from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania,” and she say, “Okay, let me write down his name. I try to locate him for you, the best I can.” About a month and a half later I got a letter. When I received the letter, I saw in the corner of the envelope the name Robert Handler. I was so surprised. I was so happy, but I was kind of nervous, you know. It took me a while to cut open the envelope, and I started readin’, and I was cryin’. Any journalist, any reporter I met, I was talkin’ about Robert Handler, tryin’ to find him. I never had any luck, but this time I got a letter from him. He asked me, “How tall is you now, how you been doin’?” He read an article that talked about me, and he said, “People talk about you, I’m proud of you.” And I think, “I still got a father there, I be more lucky than any other Amerasian.”

  When I was making applications in Amerasian Park, many Vietnamese people approached me and said they had information about MIAs. They come behind me and just blow in my ear, “Raymond, I have some information about MIAs, but I am afraid to approach Americans, so can you help?” One time, I say, “What you got?” and they show me a little dog-tag, you know, and a piece of bone. And I ask, “How do you know this is from American GI? They say, “Look at the dog tag, and we got a letter from him also.” Then I give them to John R., and he went back to Hawaii and had it analyzed, and they say, “It’s phoney, it’s not real.” So John say, “Stay away from that, it get you in trouble.” I met one lady, she gave me a photo of a black American. She says he was an MIA, still alive, and that people still takin’ care of him, near the central highlands. She says he lives deep inside the jungle. I really don’t believe it. I look at the photo, I see he’s kinda small. He doesn’t look American. I say, “This could be an Amer-asian, he doesn’t look American.” She says, “It’s true, he’s American.” I say, “Can you bring me a picture, a new picture? Can you get me his handwriting, information about his parents in the States, his address?” She says, “Yeah.” So she brings back to me another photo with his name, his family name, his parents, his address, his fingerprints. But I still don’t believe it. I say, “I can do all of this also, I got a good handwriting in English. Can you take me there?” She says, “No, Raymond, we can’t take you there, because if the people see you, they will move the guy inside more, and then we can’t find him anymore.” I say, “Okay, what can we do now to bring this guy out?” She say “The Montagnard people are keeping him. They live in the jungle. They don’t want to go to the States. They just want to trade some gold.” I still don’t believe them. I think, “How can I know for sure that this is an American?” So I tell them, “One more thing I want you to do. You do this and I will inform the U.S. Embassy about your evidence. You tell this man to list down for me four kinds of soul food.” The black American always knows about soul food. The Vietnamese, I don’t care how good his English is, he cannot know about soul food. If he really is a black American, I know he knows about soul food. She says, “I’ll try.” I waited, but she never came back. So I still have that information with me, piece of paper, his handwriting, and a photo of him. I just keep it here.

  When I left Vietnam and arrived here in the PRPC, Tuan Den, he’s here already. He came in June, I came in July. The first day I am in camp I meet him, and he asks me to stay with him in neighborhood one. He says, “Raymond, we need you to stay by us to teach us more English.” I say, “That’s great.” And I start to work as an interpreter in the Cultural Orientation program and also at the Youth Center. I request for an empty class at night, to teach English to some Amerasians who want to learn. I’m tryin’ to help.

  My other role in this camp is with the INC, the Inter-Neighborhood Council. I am on the Inter-Neighborhood patrol. They assign me that kind of work because they know most of the Amerasians here are troublemakers. They don’t ever listen to the Vietnamese. They hate Vietnamese, so most INC members they cannot work with them. So they say, “Raymond, I know the Amerasians respect you, so can you help us to keep the peace and order?”

  Now there was a guy, he was here before, he was a long-stayer here in camp. They call him Dung Dai Bang, that means like Dung “big boss.” He was this big Vietnamese guy, and he was the head of the extortion/protection racket here in camp. He went to America already.

  One time Tuan Den, he went to the gold seller in neighborhood five, and he took a gold chain. Now that chain cost eight hundred pesos, but he only pay two hundred. He tells the gold seller that he will give the rest later. Now the seller, he don’t know Tuan Den, but he sees that Tuan Den’s a big guy, and he’s afraid to say anything. That seller is under Dung’s protection, and he reports to Dung, and Dung goes lookin’ for Tuan Den.

  They meet at the coffee shop in neighborhood one, and Dung asks Tuan Den, “How come you come in my brother’s store and you bought the necklace and you don’t pay the money?” Tuan Den asks, “It’s your real brother?” and Dung say, “No, I protect him.” So Tuan Den says, “It’s not your real brother. If it’s your real brother, I won’t bother him. But he’s only the guy that makes money for you, so don’t bother me about it.”

  At that time, Duc, a Vietnamese troublemaker, he was in the monkey house. He spent almost five years in this camp, and he got rejected by America. He been in and out of jail, and his brother is in a Filipino jail for life, for rape. Duc hears that Tuan Den stood up to Dung Dai Bang, and Duc asks, “Who is this Tuan Den, who is this Raymond?” The other Amerasians say that Tuan Den, he’s this tall black Amerasian tough guy. He runs all these Amerasian groups. Duc says, “I really want to face this guy, ‘cause I’m the number one guy here, not the number two.”

  Minh, this Amerasian that we know, he was in jail with Duc. When he gets out, he comes to Tuan Den and he says “Duc, he threatened you and me, he says he will get our heads.” We’re sittin’ in the billet drinkin’, and I say, “Hey stop talking about that in here, while we’re drinkin’. Take it easy, just wait and see.” But Tuan Den, he doesn’t like it. He always likes to make something happen.

  About a month later, Minh comes to us and he says, “Hey, I heard Duc is released. He’s having a party in neighborhood nine. I’m going to get him, because he threatened me.” But Tuan Den says, “No. He threatened me also, so if you go get him, he’ll think I’m a chicken, let me go get him.”

  So I say, “Hey, let’s vote to see who will get him.” So we vote, and Minh gets the mission to get Duc. So Minh, he prepares two small knives, and he bands them around his legs and he’s gone. Me and Tuan Den, we sit at the billet. Tuan Den, he says, “Raymond, I think Duc is a tough guy, and Minh is only talk, he won’t do nothing. Let me go down there.” I say, “Hey, don’t go by yourself, they may
have a gang down there in neighborhood nine. Let me go with you. Wait, let me get a small knife so we can protect ourselves.”

  So I put a small knife in my pocket, I don’t give it to Tuan Den ‘cause I know he’s a crazy guy. We jump on a tricycle and we get down there. We go around lookin’ for the billet where they’re partying. We ask the other Amerasians, “Where’s Duc?” and they show us.

  So me and Tuan Den, we come inside the billet while they drinkin’ and playin’ the guitar. When they see us, they all break out and run. Duc is the only one to still remain inside the billet. He jumped near the kitchen to get a knife. One big Amerasian grabbed Duc. I say to Tuan Den, “Here, take my knife,” and I give him the small knife.

  I talk to the guy who’s holdin’ Duc and say, “Turn him loose, let him go get a knife. Let him go.” So the guy turned him loose, and Duc tried to get away, but Tuan Den, he just stabbed him.

  When I saw that, I said, “Stop, you could kill him,” and I grabbed the knife back. At that time Duc, he was beggin’, “Tuan Den, I didn’t say anything,” like that, “forgive me, forgive me.”

  One guy in the back tried to jump inside with a guitar and beat Tuan Den on the head. I grabbed the guitar, and he ran away. I went back to Duc, I see he’s still movin. I took the guitar, and I beat him. I don’t mean beat his head, I just beat on him. When he was not even movin’ anymore, we say, “Let’s go,” and we get out of there. Minh, and another Amerasian called Charlie, they come after that. Charlie brought a knife, but we say, “Hey, what you bringin’ all that stuff here for? We’re finished, we’re through.”