by Eric Meyer
“That’s bullshit!” he exploded, “How many more times do I have to say it? They’ve investigated your allegations and found there’s nothing to them.”
I lost it then. “Listen to me, Colonel. Are you prepared to ignore the deaths of our fellow investigators after they planted a bomb on their aircraft? Men who would have uncovered the people behind this conspiracy, and you can deny it as much as you like, but those deaths will be on your conscience if you ignore what was behind it.”
“Yeager, it was a missile! How many more times?”
“Colonel, I was there, Sub-Inspector Van Le was there, and it was a bomb. There’s no question, none at all. If you’d gone up there yourself you would have seen.”
“Even if it were true, they’d remove the wreckage, so there’s no way of confirming what happened either way.”
I sensed he was starting to weaken. “Colonel, there’s an assassin at Dong Ha. He goes by the name of Bao Ninh, and when President Nguyen turns up, he’ll put a bullet in him, or a bomb in his bathroom. I don’t know how he plans to do it. But he’s there, so why don’t you put through a call and get them to search the base until they find him?”
There was a long pause, and I thought we’d been disconnected, but his voice came back online. “Mr. Yeager, that isn’t possible. Even if I agreed with you, there’s no way anyone can make a thorough search of the base. An hour ago the North Vietnamese 320th Division hit Binh An just north of Dong Ha, and they’re sending 1st Battalion 9th Marines to reinforce the ARVN who’re outnumbered and outgunned. The place is in chaos, and they’re fighting to hold back the North Vietnamese regulars. There’s something else you should know. President Nguyen’s visit, he’s been on the radio, and he has affirmed his decision to go ahead. He said he won’t let the Communists dictate his movements, and he has every confidence in the ARVN and their American allies to inflict a heavy defeat on the North Vietnamese.”
“You’re wrong, Colonel. All of you, just plain wrong.”
I tried hard. Tried every argument I could think of to make him see reason, and I was wasting my time. He’d made up his mind, consulted the proper authorities, all done by the book, and he was satisfied he’d done everything correctly. I spent another ten minutes trying to persuade him, and just as I was about to give it up, he seemed to relent.
“I’m not sure about this, not sure at all. Tell you what. Stay on the line and give me a few minutes. I have a couple of calls to make.”
I gave him a few minutes, and he still wasn’t back, although the call was still open. It was almost another half-hour before he finally came back on the radio.
“You still there, Yeager?”
“I’m here, Colonel. What’s the deal?”
He didn’t reply, but the door to the radio room opened, and two soldiers walked in. They were MPs.
“Warrant officer Yeager?”
I must’ve been stupid. I was still waiting for Colonel Bader to explain everything to me, but a moment later, I caught on. I didn’t need any more explanation. He’d sold me out. They tried to wrestle the microphone off me, but I kept hold of it.
“How much did they pay you, Colonel? Was it thirty pieces of silver?”
“It’s for your own good. They’ll hold you at Quang Tri for the present, and once this has died down, I’ll see if I can untangle the mess you’ve created.”
“President Nguyen will be dead, don’t you get it? The whole country will be…”
“The Saigon police are on their way north to pick up their two officers, Van Le and Van Lam, and they’ll take them back to Saigon for questioning.”
I was still gripping the mic, still fighting off the MPs. “Listen to me, you stupid bastard. If they get them back to Saigon, they’ll murder them. You’ll never see them alive.”
“You need a rest, Mr. Yeager. Calm down and catch up on some sleep. Like I said, I’ll do my best to sort out this mess, and maybe you’ll escape with just a reprimand.”
The radio went dead, and the MPs finally separated me from the microphone and dragged me outside. They had a small cellblock inside the guardhouse, and they shut me into a tiny cell.
“They got you as well, I see.”
Ray Massey was in the next cell, and on the other side of the passage Lam and Le shared a cell between them. “Yeah, all of us. I guess that’s it.”
He nodded. “That’s it. We gave them a good run, but now we’ve come to the end. We have to face it, Carl, it’s all over.”
“For us, for the President, and for South Vietnam.”
He nodded. “I guess that’s right. And there’s nothing we can do about it.”
We spent an uncomfortable night, but at least they brought us hot food and water, and our clothes had more or less dried out, so we weren’t in danger of freezing to death. Outside, the base was alive with action, aircraft and helicopters taking off and landing, engines growling into life and leaving the base. I guessed they were heading for Binh An, and some would be carrying reinforcements for the beleaguered ARVN.
A few klicks north the South Vietnamese troops were fighting for their lives against overwhelming odds. United States Marines were rushing to give them help, and I had little doubt about the eventual outcome. We had massively superior firepower, and we’d blast their asses back across the DMZ. But that wouldn’t save the life of President Nguyen. Neither would it save the country from a brutal ‘liberation.’
In the morning a Military Police officer arrived and asked if we wanted to make a statement. “It’s standard procedure in the case of an arrest. I need to get your story down on paper. For the record, my name is Captain Roland Mason.”
He looked like a civilian cop, slightly over medium height, big, tough, with suspicious eyes and a closed and shuttered expression. Like he’d weigh the scales of justice with care before he made any decisions. But despite our situation, somehow I got the feeling he was a fair man. Time would tell. He’d brought in a folding table and two chairs, and we sat opposite each other. He waited with his pen poised over a fresh pad, eyebrows raised. “Anytime you’re ready.”
So I told him, all of it. Tried to impress on him the need for someone to do something, and I’d been talking for some time when I realized he hadn’t made a single note. “What is it? Why aren’t you writing this down?”
He looked faintly embarrassed. “The thing is, I spoke to Colonel Bader, and he said you’d cook up a story like this. There’s no point in writing down some fairy story. All I want is the facts.”
I felt like punching him. “The facts are these. An assassin by the name of Bao Linh is already at Dong Ha, and when President Nguyen arrives to give his speech, he’ll kill him.”
He looked faintly amused. “Okay, I’ve given you a chance to say your side of it, and you want to carry on spouting this nonsense, just like Colonel Bader said. All we can do is wait until the current wave of attacks dies down and we’ll get you back to Tan Son Nhut, and try to make some sense of all this. At the moment it’s impossible. The entire country has gone crazy. The Communists are attacking everywhere. It’s Tet, Phase II, and they’re starting to call it the May offensive. Parts of Saigon are still in the hands of the Vietcong, and the North Vietnamese Army is attacking Da Nang and Binh An, north of Dong Ha. He got to his feet and called for a guard to fold the chairs and table.
“We’re finished here, but maybe I’ll see you again in Saigon.”
The door clanged shut, the key turned in the lock, and I had a sudden idea. “Captain, one thing before you go. I’ll bet Dong Ha Combat Base isn’t under attack.”
He looked thoughtful. “Now you mention it, you’re right, it isn’t under attack.”
“And this Presidential visit is well known, I guess.”
“Yes, yes it is.”
“Don’t you think that’s something of a coincidence? The North knows he’s on the way, and they haven’t attacked the base? Instead they’re hitting nearby Binh An.”
“A coincidence, that’s all it is.”
&nbs
p; “Yeah, and William Westmoreland is the Wizard of Oz. Think about it, Captain.”
A shrug. “Nothing to think about. Coincidence, that’s all.”
He left, and I’d just fired my last bullet and missed by a mile. In the next cell Ray stood close to the bars that divided us, and he looked sympathetic. “We’ve had it, Yeager. Face it, we’re at the end of the line.”
“It looks that way.” I glanced across the passage to where Le and Lam shared a cell. Le was staring through the bars with a wistful, resigned look. There’s something about the way a man feels about a girl when he’s slept with her. Maybe when he’s broken her out of jail, although she was the first, so I couldn’t swear to much experience in that direction. But I felt my anger rising to a white-hot fury.
Forget the President. He can go screw. Forget Colonel Bader, he can join the President. Le is facing incarceration and death at the hands of the brutal South Vietnamese National Police. Within a few hours they’ll get here and take her away. This time beyond reach, and in all probability she and Lam won’t reach Saigon.
They’d pull off the main highway in some deserted place, lead them into the jungle, and two bullets would be enough to finish them. Gone forever, like their Republic.
“Ray, why are you in here?”
“Because I’m with you. They said they want to look into what happened, how we got out of Saigon, and they want to investigate a report we were on that Air America Fairchild Provider. There’s some other stuff they’re not happy about, like my involvement with springing Le from the cell.”
“What have you told them so far?”
“I told them to fuck off and stop helping the Vietnamese torture and murder their own people. I said a few other things as well.”
“I bet that went down well.”
“Like the Titanic.”
“Ray, we have to do something. If they take them back, they’re dead. They’ll never reach Saigon alive.”
“Like what? We’re in here, and they’re not likely to listen kindly to a request to let us go.”
“We’ll have to make them see sense.”
He chuckled. “How do you plan to do that? Reason with them? Make them an offer they can’t refuse like the Mafia?”
“If we can get the guard in here, you keep him talking, and I’ll try to grab his keys.”
He sighed. “Carl, the turnkey won’t bring the keys anywhere near the cell. Not unless they plan to open the door, and that’s not likely to happen. They’re on a hook at the end of a passage. I saw them there when we came in.”
“Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Unless we gave ‘em a reason to open the cell door.”
“Like what?”
I was thinking feverishly, going through a range of options most of which were even more far-fetched. But I arrived at a scheme I was sure could work.
“You need to make a full confession. Get that MP Captain back here and into your cell with the full works, the folding table, the two chairs, and the guard.”
I explained the rest of it to him, and he didn’t sound too keen on ending what was left of his Army career. He thought about it for several minutes, looking up and down the passage, across to the girls’ cell, until at last he nodded.
“I must be crazy for agreeing to this.”
“You’ll do it?”
“I’ll do it, and the Lord help me. Nobody else will.”
He bellowed for the guard, and the outer door was flung open. “What is it?”
“Get me Captain Mason. I’ve decided to make a full confession.”
“It’ll have to wait until tomorrow. He’s busy with paperwork.”
“It’s now or never, pal. If he wants promotion to major, he’d better get his ass in here and start writing it down.”
He didn’t come right away. He didn’t come for three hours, and when he did arrive, he didn’t enter the cell. He didn’t have his folding table and chairs with him, and although he was on his own, which meant we could grab him if the chance came, we didn’t get that chance. He stood outside my cell with a thoughtful expression on his face.
“You want to make a confession?”
“That’s right we both do. Bring your table and chairs, and we’ll sit down and spill it all out for you.”
“Uh, huh. How about you tell me the truth first, Yeager.”
“That’s exactly what I’m planning to do.”
“Tell me about Colonel Bader.”
“Excuse me? I said I was going to make a full confession. What does Colonel Bader have to do with it?”
“I’m asking myself the same question. After you talked to him, I called back and asked him a few pertinent questions. I didn’t like the answers he was giving me, so why don’t you tell me what’s going on? The full story, from start to finish.”
I stared at him in surprise. For the first time, someone seemed prepared to listen, and this officer was the last man I would’ve expected. Cops generally saw what was in front of their noses and didn’t look any further. This guy seemed like he was going to look further. “I can tell you, but you won’t believe me.”
“Maybe I won’t believe you, but why don’t you try me?”
So this time I gave him the whole story, all the way from the downed aircraft south of the DMZ, and the strange sight of North Vietnamese planting fake evidence of a missile hit. The arrest of Sub-Inspector Van Le, and subsequently breaking her out of jail before they had a chance to kill her because of her continuing to investigate things they didn’t want investigated. My conviction the Communists were about to assassinate the President on his visit to Dong Ha, and what that would mean. The fall of the government, and a possible Communist takeover, the end of American involvement in Vietnam, and more countries would go red. The revolution envisaged by Karl Marx would be set in motion. Laos would fall. Quickly followed by Cambodia, Thailand, and Burma. Afterward the big one, India, and the red stain of Communist dictatorship would be knocking on the door of the West. I finished and remained silent.
He digested it for several minutes and gave me a slow nod. “They’re sending a squad of cops from Saigon to collect these two ladies. They’re due by midday tomorrow.”
“They won’t make it back to Saigon. They’ll stop on the way, kill them, and dump their bodies in the jungle.”
“Perhaps. Colonel Bader believes you’re dangerous. A loose cannon, and he advised we keep you under lock and key until he can arrange to send you back to the States.”
“So he’s decided I’m guilty. Guilty of investigating a downed aircraft and the deaths of several Army Investigators, guilty of helping two Saigon cops attempting to uncover corruption inside their own ranks, and guilty of attempting to stop the assassination of the President of the Republic of Vietnam.”
He grinned. “That’s more or less what he said, although he didn’t put it quite like that. He said your report of the crash site was a figment of your imagination. The two Saigon cops were under investigation for dealing drugs, and the idea someone could try to assassinate the President is too ridiculous to even consider.”
“What do you think, Captain Mason?”
He walked away, and for a moment I thought I’d wasted my time, and it was all over, but he reached the end of the passage, and took down the bunch of keys. He came back and unlocked first our cells and then the girls’ cell opposite.
“I’m a cop, Mr. Yeager. I was a patrolman before I joined the military, and I intend to resume my career as a cop when this is over. I’ve had enough weird stuff in my time to know when someone is feeding me a line, and quite frankly, when I was talking to Colonel Bader that’s what I was thinking. What you’re telling me sounds more like the truth, so I’m letting you go. I assume you’ll head for Dong Ha.”
“That’s correct. If no one will listen, we’ll have to try to stop it ourselves.”
“You know there’s fighting at Binh An, and the Communists have started attacking other strategic targets, so yo
u could be heading into a major battle.”
“But they’re not attacking Dong Ha.”
“No, they’re not. Which considering the President is due to visit in three days is suspicious.”
“Two days?” I said it is much to myself. The days were slipping past, and we were running out of time.
“Two days is right. It is surprising they haven’t attacked the base, at least not yet. If they managed to get the visit cancelled, it would be a major embarrassment to the South, so it’s strange they’ve left it alone and instead they’ve halted at Binh An.
Ten minutes later the Captain got into his jeep alongside his driver, the engine started, and it headed toward the gates. The sentries recognized him, and the gates swung open before he reached them. I started the engine and drove out after him through the main gates almost touching his rear fender.
The sentry gave us a searching look. At first all he saw was two soldiers, me and Ray Massey in the front seats. Until he took a second look and his gaze wandered to the rear seats. He was looking at the two Vietnamese girls, Van Le and Van Lam, and still he didn’t react. After all, as far as he knew they were just a pair of joy girls we were taking out for a ride. Unauthorized and strictly against the rulebook, but hell, these things happen. The Captain turned right, heading south along the main perimeter, and I turned left, heading north. I floored the gas pedal as we hit the tarmac.
In the mirror I saw the sentry illuminated by the overhead security lights rush to a phone clipped to a post inside the gate. He started shouting into the handset, but we were going fast, and minutes later we were out of sight of the base. Destination Dong Ha, and if we’d had troubles so far, I reckoned breaking out of the cells at Quang Tri and stealing a jeep was about to quadruple those troubles.
“We need to get off the road,” I said to Ray, “Find an alternative route to Dong Ha.”
“Either that, or we’ll have the MPs backed up by company of infantry chasing our tails. I happen to know there’s a road runs to the east of the town, and we can reach the base that way.”
I followed his directions. The journey was short; around twenty-five klicks, and we were in sight of the main gates to Dong Ha. A half-dozen ARVN soldiers were standing in front of the gate, grim-faced. They’d be extra security laid on for the Presidential visit. Inside the gate American soldiers stood guard, and to get inside would mean getting past a double whammy. We might get past one set of guards, but both seemed unlikely.