Devil's Guard- The Complete Series Box Set

by Eric Meyer

  It was a slaughter, men and women screamed, the leading demonstrators crumpled to the road as dozens of them were wounded or killed outright. Astonishingly, the shooting didn’t stop, they just kept firing and firing at the demonstrators, most of whom by now were running for their lives. Some stood too shocked to move, like rabbits caught in a vehicle’s headlights, a few moved amongst the fallen, trying to help them until they too were hit and fell to the ground. Eventually, the shooting petered to a stop. We sat shocked into silence. The lieutenant started shouting more orders to his men who incredibly began to arrest some of the frozen survivors. The dead and wounded they left where they had fallen. I murmured to the driver to back up slowly and move away. This had all the hallmarks of a war crime and if the officer realised that we were witnesses he could turn his attentions to us. In the event, he took no notice and we managed to beat a hasty retreat. Helene, who was a trained doctor, was trying to persuade me to stop the cab so that she could give help to the wounded, but when I explained to her that her unborn baby would be at risk if the Vietnamese police decided that we were unwanted witnesses, she kept quiet. The driver continued to wend his way through the backstreets of Hue and eventually we got back to the airport unscathed. The air traffic controllers were unhappy about clearing me for takeoff, there was talk of a military clampdown until order was restored, but I played the trump card of U.S. military business and managed to get away. At last we were climbing into the air and I breathed a sigh of relief. Helene tuned the radio into the local AFN station, they were playing a frenetic rock song, ‘The Twist’, the singer was a new name to me, Chubby Checker. I wondered about the title of the song. It seemed very appropriate for Vietnam, the twist, that described everything here.

  I had never heard Helene swear, so I was shocked when she spoke. “They are a bunch of total fucking lunatics,” she said. “They have just recruited a large number of soldiers for the Viet Cong.”

  I laughed. “Welcome to Realpolitik, my darling.” Realpolitik was politics or diplomacy based primarily on power and on practical and material factors and considerations, rather than ideological notions or moralistic or ethical premises. The politics of brute force. As practised in Vietnam, North and South.

  “They’re going to lose, aren’t they, Jurgen?”

  “You mean Diem, and his American allies?”

  “Yes, they’re playing right into the hands of the communists, isn’t that blindingly obvious.”

  “Yes,” I replied. “Just as the French did before them, just as successive Vietnamese governments have done. I fear that within a few years the communists will be in power.”

  “So why are we here, Jurgen?” Why are we helping them?”

  “Because it’s our home, Helene. It’s where we’ve chosen to make our lives, build our business and a home for our child.”

  She was silent for a full hour as we droned on over the endless Vietnamese jungle.

  “Have we made a mistake, should we go elsewhere?” she said suddenly. I jerked in surprise and the aircraft leapt a couple of hundred feet higher.

  “Possibly,” I said after a moment. “But we are committed at the moment, once the baby is born and we have fulfilled our contracts with the U.S. military, we could consider moving somewhere else. The world needs aircraft to transport goods, we could consider setting up in a different country, we’ll speak to Paul if you wish.”

  She nodded. “Yes, I think that would be a good idea, after the baby is born. Then we’ll have a better idea of how things stand.”

  We landed back at Tan Son Nhat without incident, our intention was to go straight home to the bungalow we had rented while our own home was being repaired, but there was a surprise waiting for me. I taxied over to the hangar where there was a Willys jeep parked outside. Paul and Ritter came out, grim faced. I dropped down the ladder, helped Helene down and waited for them to speak.

  “There’s someone in the office to speak to you, Jurgen. Lieutenant Colonel Aaron Goldberg.”

  “What does he want?”

  They both shrugged. “He refused to speak to us,” Ritter said. “Said he wanted to talk to you and no one else.”

  It was nothing good, that was certain. If Goldberg would only talk to me that meant a secret mission of some kind and that could only lead to trouble. Well, I’d been in trouble before and had so far managed to get out of it. I went into the office, Helene came after me with Ritter and Paul. Goldberg was sat on our old couch, he immediately stood up and came to shake hands.

  “Hoffman, good to see you again.”

  “Colonel, you too,” I replied.

  “How are things in Hue?” he asked.

  “The usual, Colonel, a total fuck up. Did you expect anything else?”

  He shook his head tiredly. “No, I guess not. I’m sorry about that problem you had with Miles, it could have been real bad.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Bad, Colonel? As I recall it cost the lives of a Special Forces captain, two sergeants and countless other lives including many Vietnamese civilians and our own engineer. That was ‘real bad’ enough for us.”

  He looked suitably abashed. “Yeah, sorry about that, it wasn’t one of our finest moments. Now look, I want to talk to you in confidence,” he looked significantly at Helene, Paul and Ritter.

  I smiled at him. “You are talking to me in confidence, Colonel. These people are totally trustworthy, proved time and again. As I recall, it is your own people who you have problems with. As a matter of interest, you’re sitting two feet from where one of them killed Johann, if you look hard the bloodstain is still visible.”

  I felt Helene flinch, but I felt I had to make a point. Goldberg relaxed and smiled.

  “Ok, I’m not getting very far am I? Maybe I’d better come right out with it. I need your aircraft, Jurgen.”

  “So what’s the problem, you want a standard charter of one of our C-47s, just put in the paperwork and we’ll deal with it?”

  I was being deliberately naive and we all knew it. A senior officer coming out here personally and waiting for me to return was no standard charter.

  “I want both of your C-47s to ferry troops and equipment to Da Nang, can you handle it?”

  I looked at Paul and Ritter. This proposal stank worse than a manure heap. “You know we can handle it, Colonel. What’s the catch?”

  He thought for a moment. “Well, there are one or two aspects of the operation that I can’t discuss with you, but essentially it’s a straightforward ferry job, out and back. Take the men up there, refuel and wait for forty-eight hours and bring them back.”

  “Can I discuss it for a moment with my people, two aircraft is a major charter for us?”

  He nodded, and I indicated to Helene and the others that we needed to speak privately outside the hangar. We went into the late afternoon sunshine and I asked them what they thought.

  “They want us to go to the North,” Paul said immediately.

  Ritter nodded. “My thoughts too, Jurgen. They could use any number of their own aircraft for a simple ferry job to Da Nang.”

  Helene had paled. “Oh God no, not again. Not the North.”

  I spread my arms. “That’s almost certainly what they want, so let’s proceed on that assumption. What do we do?”

  “Say no, of course,” my wife said. “You mustn’t do it.”

  I smiled at her. “It’s not that easy, my love. We have certain obligations to the U.S. military and we can’t refuse them out of hand. Let’s face it, we knew this was coming.”

  I could see a tear forming in her eye. I felt angry that the Colonel had come to put this one on us so abruptly, but I guess he had his orders.

  “We’ll have to do it,” Paul said. “We owe them a lot, but let’s just make sure they pay heavily for the privilege.”

  Ritter nodded. “I’m up for it, you’ll need me for a two aircraft job. We’ll need a second co-pilot too.”

  “I’ll do it,” Helene said. I stared at her. “You cannot be seriou
s, you’re five months pregnant.”

  “If you’re going, Jurgen, I go too. I’m not sitting at home waiting to hear you’ve been killed. If it happens, I want to be with you.”

  “You’re not cleared for twin engine aircraft,” I said lamely. Her license was single engine only. But it was a stupid argument and she just laughed.

  “You cannot be serious? What are they going to do, arrest me for not having the correct paperwork?”

  We argued back and forth for almost half an hour. In the end we compromised, she would come with us to Da Nang but not cross the DMZ, and to get that agreement I had to repeatedly remind her of our unborn child. We went back into the office.

  “You’ve got your aircraft, Colonel, provided you agree to our terms. What is the destination?”

  “That’s excellent, Hoffman. I told you, Da Nang.”

  I heard a laugh from Ritter von Schacht. “We are not children, Colonel,” he said, “you have more than enough aircraft of your own to take your men to Da Nang. Tell us, exactly where is the destination?”

  Goldberg sighed. “Ok, you’re right. Initial destination is Da Nang, but yes, we want you to take our group over the DMZ and return for the pick up approximately forty-eight hours later. It’s a straightforward in and out, you’ve done it before.”

  “So have you, Colonel, as I recall it was anything but straightforward last time.”

  He winced. “Yeah, point taken, but this time it’s much simpler.”

  “When do you want to depart?” Paul asked him.

  “Tonight.”

  The four of us stared at him as if he was crazy.

  “You can’t mean that, Colonel,” I said to him, “that’s ridiculous and you know it.”

  He nodded. “I do, you’re quite right. We had a contract sorted with another airline, Air America, but this morning there was something of a disagreement on policy between their managers and MACV and they’ve pulled out.”

  “Why didn’t the CIA want to fly this one?”

  “CIA?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

  None of us replied, we just waited for him. Air America's slogan was ‘Anything, Anywhere, Anytime, Professionally’. This was not an exaggeration, as Air America aircraft, including De Havilland Canada DHC-4 Caribous and Fairchild C-123 Providers, flew many types of cargo to countries such as the Republic of Vietnam, the Kingdom of Laos, and Cambodia. It operated from bases in those countries and also from bases in Thailand and as far afield as Taiwan and Japan. It also on occasion flew top-secret missions into Burma and the People's Republic of China. The airline was directly owned and operated by the CIA, through a maze of front companies and they provided direct and indirect support to CIA operations.

  Goldberg shrugged. “Yeah, you’re right. Politics, I guess. There’s been a falling out between CIA and MACV, each has their own view on how the war in South Vietnam should be run. Meanwhile, people like us have to keep the real war going.”

  “Ok, it’s nothing new. Here are our terms. Triple the normal fee and the military fully insures our aircraft against loss or damage.”

  “Triple?” He was shocked. “That sounds a bit steep.”

  “I’m willing to bet it’s a lot cheaper than Air America,” I replied, but I was holding my breath. A triple fee would make a big difference to us.

  He relented, he was obviously desperate and under orders to get results. “Yep, ok, we can do that. How do you want payment?”

  “Half the fee up front in cash, and a certified cheque for the value of each of the aircraft. If everything goes well we tear up the cheques. Other than that, we’ll ignore the paperwork. The balance to be paid when we return.”

  “Yeah, we can’t put anything on paper. Very well, I’ll be back here in four hours, we fly to Da Nang, take on some extra supplies and refuel and then push on across the DMZ tomorrow evening.”

  “We’ll be ready, Colonel. Don’t forget the money.”

  He smiled as he walked away.

  “Paul, would you and Ritter get both aircraft refuelled and pre-flighted. I’ll take Helene home for a quick nap, a shower and change of clothes, it’s been a long flight in from Hue and we’ve got another long one ahead of us.”

  “We’ll be ready,” Ritter said. His eyes were shining, obviously he enjoyed the chance of seeing some action. I hoped to God he would be disappointed and it would be a milk run. We went to our bungalow and slept for a couple of hours, then showered and ate a hasty meal. Helene was unusually quiet.

  “I don’t know,” she said when I asked her what the problem was. “I’m just sick and tired of all this nonsense, that business in Hue upset me, it was so stupid and unnecessary. Now this, it’s like little boys constantly playing Cowboys and Indians. When will it ever end so that people can live a normal life, people like us? I want out, Jurgen, as soon as possible.”

  I agreed that when we got back we’d start looking into getting out of Vietnam. Shortly afterwards we were back at the hangar, Paul and Ritter were just finishing their pre-flight checks when two military transport vehicles arrived and disgorged our passengers, thirty tough looking soldiers, they carried no unit insignia but were almost certainly Special Forces. There were several wooden crates containing their equipment and these were quickly loaded. Thirty minutes later we were in the air, Helene flew with me and Paul and Ritter flew the other aircraft. Von Schacht was in the left hand seat, a gracious nod from Paul to the old Luftwaffe pilot’s undoubted superior skill.

  We droned on through the night towards Da Nang. I went aft to check the passengers twice but they were very uncommunicative, Helene and I were just the taxi drivers. That would do for me, I was quite happy to earn my pay by avoiding any contact with either them or the enemy, I was getting too old for that, it was best left to the youngsters. Da Nang airfield had lit up the runway and we were able to land without difficulty. We were directed to a far corner of the field where the soldiers hurriedly disembarked and were collected by two lorries. Shortly after the dawn arrived and we were left to our own devices throughout the day. We chatted, caught up on sleep, ate the sandwiches that Helene had provided and checked the aircraft twice over. During the day a fuel bowser came and we refilled the tanks until they were right to the top. I saw Helene to the officers’ quarters at the airfield where they had allowed her the use of a room, and then returned to the aircraft as darkness fell. The lorries re-appeared with an additional four men, they were all wearing army camouflage but they were no soldiers, their slumped civilian bearing gave them away. Colonel Goldberg joined me in the right hand seat to help navigate to the landing field. I called over Paul and Ritter and as they crowded into the cockpit we went over his maps.

  “This is our destination, Vinh. Specifically a level field on the outside of the town, we’ll be far enough away to get in without the locals noticing we’ve arrived. We’ve got some people of our own who’ll be putting out markers for the landing, so it shouldn’t be any problem getting the aircraft in. Only room for one at a time, though. Can you handle that?”

  “I suggest the second aircraft leaves slightly later, Colonel. I don’t think we want it circling over Vinh while the first aircraft unloads.”

  “Oh, right, yeah, I never thought of that. Ok, we’ll do it your way.”

  We smiled at each other, it was pretty basic not to have an unarmed defenceless aircraft circling over enemy territory for any period of time.

  “Who are the civilians, Colonel?”

  “We haven’t got any civilians.”

  He saw our sceptical look. “Yeah, ok, you’re right. They’re intelligence guys, translators and code breakers. The mission is quite straightforward, we got wind of a cache of enemy documents related to the insurgency, local leaders, intelligence people in the South, they’re at an address in Vinh. We’re going in to check out the documents and take photos of anything interesting, then leave them apparently undisturbed. It could be quite an intelligence coup, especially if they don’t know we’ve seen them.”


  I didn’t say anything, it sounded ridiculous. But if that was what they wanted to pay us for, so be it. At least there was a good chance of avoiding enemy contact. It was time for departure, the troops were already aboard. I went into the cockpit with Goldberg, we were the leading aircraft and we started up, got clearance and took off. Navigation was something of a challenge, we were looking for a small field in a darkened area west of Vinh but I managed to take bearings from the stars to assist my compass heading and within three hours we started to descend. There were lights below marking out the landing strip, arranged in an arrow to mark the wind direction. As I came in to land, Goldberg snapped out an order for the men to be ready and the cabin echoed to the sound of weapons being cocked.

  He needn’t have worried, I brought the C-47 to a halt and the soldiers leapt out, weapons raised, but there were only friendly voices raised in greeting. Immediately I took off again to clear the field for the second C-47 and as I gained height I saw it reflected in the moonlight as it approached the field for a landing. I flew back to Da Nang and when I landed Helene was there to greet me. Shortly after Paul and Ritter landed and the first part of our mission was over. We went into the military bar and bought drinks and then sat in silence. It was an odd feeling that for once the Special Forces were in enemy territory and we were safe at Da Nang, almost a feeling of guilt, as if we should have been with them. We felt powerless, unable to influence events as we had so often in the past. All we could do was wait. Eventually we gave up and went to bed, avoiding each other’s eyes. The following day we spent servicing the aircraft to be ready at any moment, but the call didn’t come. Neither did it the next day and by the following night we were beginning to get worried, they were very overdue. We waited half the night and still the radio was silent, the following morning we sat around waiting again. Then an army communications sergeant came over to us from the tower. They were in trouble.

  “Message from Colonel Goldberg, Mr Hoffman. They’ve stirred up a hornet’s nest over there, they want you ready to go in as soon as they can clear a safe landing strip.”