Termite Hill (Vietnam Air War Book 1)

by Tom Wilson

  "We should look at other locations for the rocket battery," said Major Wu, "perhaps even prepare them all so we can provide mobility training."

  Xuan was impressed. Wu's statement was worth considering.

  "No," the Russian argued. "The location for the special rocket site must be perfect, and we must camouflage it well. So well the Americans will never suspect it is there."

  Xuan baited him. "When we shoot at the American aircraft with the Wisdom rocket site, they may try to find us, regardless of restrictions." Wisdom complex would be sited inside the restricted flying area near the Chinese border.

  "That is why we must never shoot rockets!" said Gregarian, in his excitement reverting to Russian. "Except to protect Wisdom itself. The radar vans will have duplicate scopes for training and measurement systems to show how closely the operators can track targets. The instructors will be the best technical talent from Russia. The rocket system operators who graduate will form the core of your rocket defenses. It would be wrong to expose such a valuable battery just to shoot down a few aircraft. And if the command-and-control site were found? . . ."

  "But if the complex does come under attack?" Xuan asked.

  Gregarian sighed. "Then all would be lost, and the special rocket site must be used to defend the Wisdom complex as best as possible. I plan to take every measure possible, though, to ensure they do not find Wisdom."

  The Russian's request to PVO Strany Headquarters had said the systems, controllers, and instructors they sent would be safe from attack.

  Technically Gregarian was very good; with systems he bordered on genius. But Xuan sensed that the Russian looked down on his Vietnamese hosts' unsystematic approach to combat.

  Xuan watched as Major Wu and the Russian adviser pulled out large-scale maps to plot the various routes they'd take during the next two days to examine locations for the Wisdom systems.

  Capt Nguyen Pho, his logistics officer, entered the barracks lobby and cornered Quang Hanh. They were talking about their favorite subject, women.

  Captain Pho joked about a girl he had seen looking at Quang Hanh. His men liked to talk about the young women of the various villages, but Xuan made them adhere strictly to the principle that General Giap had long ago laid down against taking advantage of the people. There were to be no murders, no theft, and no rapes committed by his soldiers against the people. Swift execution was the most merciful judgment Xuan rendered in such cases.

  Of course there was no such protection provided for "traitors" and "enemies of the people." Periodically, especially when his men had been deployed away from home for several months, he would make judicious decisions about the questionable patriotism of a few comely women in the area. His men liked that.

  He thought about his officers. They were all different, yet except for Major Wu, they shared two common denominators: technical skill and success in combat. Judging from the knowledge Wu was exhibiting in his conversation with Gregarian, he might soon be included. If he could turn Wu into a success, it would greatly please Li Binh and her family.

  Maj. Tran Van Ngo, the ambitious commander of Tiger battalion, entered the room. It was his company of engineers they had brought along to help survey sites for the Wisdom complex, and like any good commander, Tran had been making sure his men were taken care of.

  "We dine with the mayor," Major Wu announced to the group.

  Tran Van Ngo grinned at Xuan. "It is good to know the mayor had a change of mind."

  Xuan shrugged. "He is becoming a true patriot. He will escort us to his home in ten minutes."

  Tran Van Ngo looked pleased. "The men are being served in their quarters by young women. I almost stayed." He made an appreciative, clucking sound with his tongue. "You should see them, comrade Colonel. I would bet that some have never seen the great elephant."

  "I'm sure Major Van Ngo will try to change that," said Wu.

  "Not me. I put the party, the people, and my men before myself. That is the secret of our great social revolution, isn't it?" Tran grew thoughtful. "Still, I suppose I should always be an example for my men."

  "I shall duly report your enthusiasm for the people's revolution," said Major Wu with an uncharacteristic smile. "The party will be grateful for your patriotic interest in females."

  "Ha," said Tran. "I might worry, but you'll likely be the first to wave your elephant's trunk at those poor girls."

  Lieutenant Hanh laughed. He was the baby of the staff.

  Tran Van Ngo shook his head. "Just wait, Quang Hanh. One of these days your trunk will rise up just like the big boys'."

  "Enough," said Xuan. "Let's go and enjoy the mayor's hospitality."

  "Comrade Colonel," said Tran Van Ngo in a more serious vein, "Captain Pho and I had some city workers dispose of the mayor's assistant. I told them he was a traitor to the great struggle for unification, and that his body should be displayed at the front of the administrative building for three days and then tossed into the city's refuse dump. His wife was creating a disturbance, so I gave her a lecture about patriotism and how she should have reported his antirevolutionary ideas."

  "He scared the dirt out of her," added Capt Nguyen Pho.

  Major Wu grinned at Major Ngo. "I suppose you also offered to console her."

  "She is a delicate flower. I hoped that reeducation might be in order."

  Xuan nodded curtly. "You handled the matter properly."

  Major Wu agreed. "They will begin to remember all the unpatriotic things the assistant has uttered in his despicable life."

  "Let us go to dinner," said Xuan. "As we walk I will tell you how to behave. There is more teaching in store for the mayor to make him an even better patriot."

  Xuan and his officers ate well at the mayor's house, the former residence of a forgotten French provincial official. They devoured offerings of curried rice delicately laced with fish and chicken. Surprisingly, the mayor had found two bottles of French wine. The mayor ate little, but he was politely attentive to their conversation. His wife, her aunt, and two servants served the group without sitting, rushing to provide more food whenever necessary. The Russian adviser ate his boiled pork and greens quietly, wrinkling his nose at the smell of their fish.

  As the mayor had said, his young wife was obviously pregnant. She was a small woman, plain, with features almost indistinct in the roundness of her chubby face, but she was cheerful and pleasant. When she smiled she showed large, strong, beautiful teeth, so white and even they looked as if they were carved of new porcelain. She was obviously proud of them for she smiled a great deal. They transformed her into an almost pretty woman.

  The meal was nearly completed when the officers began, as Xuan had briefed them to do.

  "Your excellency," said Tran Van Ngo, using the French term, "you are on a diet?"

  The mayor nodded, noticeably pale from the afternoon's events.

  "You will be as trim as Major Wu before long, and all the females like him."

  Wu, thin as a wraith, laughed.

  The wife smiled prettily. Xuan noticed that Quang Hanh was staring at her.

  "Or is it the size of Major Wu's elephant's trunk they like so much?" asked Capt Nguyen Pho.

  The wife's smile drooped, suddenly puzzled. Xuan wondered if she'd ever heard soldier's slang.

  Maj Tran Van Ngo grimaced. "No such talk in front of the maidens, please." He gestured in mock modesty at the aging aunt. She was in her mid-thirties, bony and thin.

  "Oh," said Captain Pho. "Perhaps the maidens have not seen an elephant's trunk. Would you care to see the major's trunk, old aunt?"

  Both women's eyes were downcast. The two servants entered, bringing hot tea, saw their expressions, and stopped dead-still.

  "The mayor's wife has certainly seen an elephant's trunk," said Tran Van Ngo. The other officers laughed loudly.

  The mayor, not knowing what to do, laughed politely, but he was growing red with embarrassment. Xuan leaned back in his chair, thinking that the mayor knew what they were talk
ing about, yet the man just sat there without complaint.

  "Major Van Ngo, you are coarse," said Xuan.

  "Yes, comrade Colonel. I may never get to admire her lotus blossom if I speak like that," said Tran.

  "Major Van Ngo!" Xuan exclaimed in mock horror.

  "Tran's family is from the south, Colonel. We must forgive him," said Captain Pho.

  "How about you?" Tran Van Ngo asked Lieutenant Hanh. "You're just a baby. Wouldn't you like to see the mayor's wife's lotus blossom?"

  The youthful officer grinned.

  The mayor's wife scurried to the kitchen, embarrassed. The two servants followed her.

  Colonel Gregarian looked confused and started to ask what was going on. He shrugged, then continued to stuff chunks of boiled pork into his mouth.

  After a moment, Xuan looked penetratingly at the mayor. "Call her back."

  The mayor drew a breath, then whispered, "She is five months with a child."

  "I have eyes."

  The mayor called his wife back into the room. She skulked in, then hurried to the mayor's side, making herself small beside his protective bulk.

  "Lieutenant!" Xuan demanded. "Major Van Ngo asked a question. The major is a hero of the people. Surely you should answer."

  "I asked the lieutenant," repeated Tran, "whether he would like to see the woman's lotus blossom."

  The lieutenant grinned a soft, embarrassed look, staring at Tran and avoiding the woman. "I guess so."

  The mayor looked with beseeching eyes, first to the lieutenant, then to Xuan Nha.

  Xuan sat back, regarding the mayor. He pursed his narrow lips and slowly dropped his hand to caress the handle of the Tokarev.

  A look of terror spread over the mayor's face. His voice quavered. "Please," he begged Xuan.

  Xuan stared back with soft eyes. He grasped the handle of the pistol.

  The fat mayor jerked his head around to his young wife. He whispered, "Go with the lieutenant." The aunt gasped.

  Van Ngo laughed.

  The wife looked on in disbelief. She stepped away from her husband, eyes darting back and forth between the officers.

  "Be gentle," said Tran Van Ngo, "because I want to let her compare my elephant when you are done."

  "Stop." Xuan raised his left hand to his men.

  The woman looked at him, catching her breath.

  "I have decided that whatever is good enough for my officers is good enough for me."

  Van Ngo laughed uproariously.

  "First!" he added.

  Neither the mayor or the woman understood. The mayor, in his confusion, showed an expression of gratitude, thinking the ordeal was over. The Russian, finished with his meal, looked on with a bored expression. He belched loudly.

  Xuan stood, stretched, and nodded toward the outside door. "I am sure the mayor would enjoy providing my officers with a personally guided tour of his city."

  "Of course," rushed the mayor. "I would like you all to see Bac Can."

  "Meanwhile, I'm going to rest," said Xuan.

  Van Ngo laughed again.

  The mayor's wife visibly slumped in relief as the officers stood, believing that her trial was over. She tried an awkward smile and with her still-horrified aunt started toward the kitchen.

  Xuan motioned at her aunt. "Take her with you."

  "Of course, comrade Colonel," said Major Wu.

  As the men started to leave, the mayor looked perplexed. Tran Van Ngo guided him out the door with a hand on his arm. Captain Pho grasped the aunt's elbow and firmly propelled her in the same direction. The mayor's wife tried to follow, but Nguyen Pho pushed her back, pointing to the colonel. She froze.

  "Show me to my room," said Xuan, stretching again.

  Tran Van Ngo and Wu pushed their heads back inside. Tran was first. "About the assistant mayor's wife, sir. Shall I comfort her?"

  "That is your patriotic duty, Major Ngo. Perhaps the others would care to join you." He smiled. "Perhaps even the mayor. In fact, I insist upon it. The mayor will be last, of course."

  Major Wu appeared intoxicated. "And the old aunt?"

  Van Ngo laughed. "I am sure she would enjoy a tour of the barracks, Colonel."

  "As you wish." Xuan indicated an unopened bottle remaining on the table. "Take the wine and provide yourselves and the mayor with a drink before he returns . . . in the morning."

  Van Ngo grabbed the bottle, grinning as he closed the door behind him.

  Xuan said politely to the mayor's wife, "Please show me where I can rest."

  It was an arousing night for Xuan Nha, for he had been appropriately stimulated.

  After they had reached a physical understanding much too gentle for his liking, he rolled off her and napped. He awoke to find her off the sleeping palette creeping toward the door, so he dragged her back. This time he grasped her hair and forced her head down to introduce her to the French way. She resisted by twisting away. He hit her hard, then while she sat spraddle-legged and dazed, he retrieved the Tokarev and pulled back her lips with his fingers.

  A short while later he slept, at peace with himself. The black mood had long evaporated.

  06/2030L—Officer's Club, Takhli RTAFB, Thailand

  The men who came to Takhli to fly F-105's into battle did so with the knowledge that their contract was for one hundred missions, at the end of which they would be obligated to throw a balls-out party for the rest of the guys, and then be reassigned to the States. Less than forty percent of the strike pilots of Takhli achieved that goal, so the hundred mission parties were a very big event. The pilots attending would look at the man wearing the red, white, and blue 100 Missions, North Vietnam patch, with F-105 printed in the center, with a mixture of awe and encouragement. The wearer of the patch was living proof that it could be done.

  Tiny Bechler

  The hundred mission party for Capt J. J. Spalding was a success. The bar was rowdy and loud with songs the men were singing, which was the way they all liked it.

  Tiny sat talking with Chickenplucker Crawford and Swede Swendler about the day's mission when Andy Schumacher and Larry Stark quietly came in the back door. The Weasel crew from the 333rd squadron had attempted to fly with them that morning to help shield them from the SAMs.

  "You chickenpluckers come over here and have a drink with us!" yelled Crawford.

  Andy grinned his lopsided look, and shook his head sadly. "We tried."

  Chickenplucker laughed. "I hear you landed in a tree, Andy."

  Schumacher's grin faded. "Took me twenty minutes to get down. It's not that easy. You ever bail out, try not to land in a tree."

  Andy had cajoled maintenance into trying to repair the least battle-damaged Weasel airplane, worried about the strike force having to fly without Weasel support. The F-105F had made it as far as the tanker, then abruptly slewed sideways and started to come apart. Both men had successfully ejected and were picked up in the Laotian Plains des Jars.

  Tiny Bechler, having decided that he liked flying with the Wild Weasels because of the action, had been flying on their wing. He joked, "That was the only tree around for ten miles, Andy. How come you didn't try to steer your chute away from it?"

  Andy tried a glower. He was too pleasant-natured and just looked like he was grinning wider. "I did try. The damned tree was like a magnet."

  His bear, Larry Stark, quietly accepted a beer. "You both okay?" Chickenplucker asked him.

  "I'm fine. But Andy got skinned up shinnying down the tree."

  J. J. Spalding, who was paying for it all, raised a glass and yelled for silence unsuccessfully. He was too intoxicated.

  Sam Hall stood on a chair, waving his arms to quiet the room. "J. J.'s got some words of wisdom he wants to pass on while he's still coherent," he said.

  Spalding, the new hundred mission patch bright on the shoulder of his flight suit, mounted another chair and held out his arms grandly, swaying dangerously.

  "Chickenplucker!" yelled Crawford.

  "I just wanned to p
ass on th' secret of my success, havin' single-handedly brung th' gomers to their knees," said J. J.

  "What's that, asshole?" shouted Swede, his flight commander.

  "Th' secret . . ." Spalding grew glassy-eyed and wavered, then crumpled. Several of his 357th squadron-mates caught him and carried him to a chair at at table in the corner of the bar, where they propped him against the wall.

  "Guess that was all he had to say," quipped Swede Swendler.

  "Damn," said Tiny, peering above their heads at J. J., his mouth gaping. "Wonder what the secret was?"

  07/0545L—Bac Can, Democratic Republic of Vietnam

  Xuan Nha

  "Enter," he called out.

  Maj Tran Van Ngo rudely guided the mayor inside, then stood behind him.

  Xuan was looking into the bureau mirror at himself, pulling his uniform neatly into place. He waved Van Ngo out the door and smiled pleasantly at the fat and panting mayor.

  "Your hospitality was complete," said Xuan politely. He strapped on the pistol belt and adjusted it for comfort.

  The disheveled mayor looked about for his wife. Xuan beckoned curtly and the woman come out of the closet where she had been kneeling, shining his boots with a cotton cloth. He took the boots, inspected them, and sat down on a chair to pull them on. She stood beside him, eyes lacking spirit, older and wiser and no longer the merry wife the mayor had left behind. Her lips were puffed, bruised black from use.

  Xuan rose, reached into his pocket, and handed her several aluminum-alloy coins. "Show your gratitude, Christian whore!" he ordered. She grimaced wide, displaying her toothless mouth.

  The mayor uttered a croaking sound.

  "Your patriotism is no longer in doubt, comrade mayor," said Xuan. "You have provided me and my men with a warm welcome."

  The mayor nodded, his head moving in jerks.

  Xuan started to leave, but stopped as he drew abreast of the mayor. "Tonight my officers and I will sleep in the field. We will leave most of the engineering company in the barracks here for a day or two. Take care of their needs as if they were your sons."