Bimat--A Vietnamese Adventure

by Robert A Webster

  Pon would then return to the tour group and stay in Behn Dinh overnight.

  The military helicopter would stay on standby at Lee’s and once the commandos had contacted Lee, it would fly into the drop zone and airlift the commandos and Kim to safety. They assumed that with the kidnappers overcome and Kim released, the agent with Thran would panic and run, or snipers now positioned near Thran’s house would take him out.

  On successful completion of the mission, Pon would return to Cambodia with Spock and Stu.

  If the commandos or Pon could not find a safe, easy way to infiltrate the kidnapper’s hideout, they were to abort, and the commandos would return to the helicopter and be airlifted out.

  In that event, Stu, Spock, and Pon would stay in Ho Chi Minh City for a few days and then fly to Hanoi at the appointed time and date to meet the kidnapper’s agent.

  They finished the briefing, and the commandos gathered their equipment and weapons.

  The turbines of the helicopter outside growled into action. The commandos silently boarded the chopper, which took off heading east into the night sky.

  “My best men, the elite,” said Lee as he and Pon stood and watched the helicopter taking off.

  Pon smiled and said. “I hope so, they looked very competent. The squad Commander looked intense and his footwear was interesting. His shoes looked like they were made from car tyres.”

  Lee chuckled and said. “Yes he is, and yes, they were.”

  Pon and Lee watched the lights of the helicopter fade into the distance and then he and Lee went over the details again.

  Stu and Spock’s role in this sophisticated plan was as usual to do bugger all, just amble along, do a touristy thing, look at some muddy tunnels, and keep out of mischief... simple.

  However, Spock and Stu’s plans for that night were even simpler. Get shitfaced as quickly as possible, have some fun, maybe get laid, tease Lee’s driver, and then go home.

  Pon phoned Lee’s driver after the briefing to make sure he brought them back early, as they were due to depart at 4:30 am. However, the instruction came too late as the lads had already given him the slip and the driver was frantically searching the downtown area.

  Lee’s driver had driven the lads to downtown of Sihanoukville. The last time they visited the town, they spent most of the time on, or near, the beach, bypassing the downtown area, because their guide, Shifty, had told them that downtown was shit, and now they could see why. The driver dropped them off on the quiet main street and instructed them to meet him there in one hour.

  Spock and Stu smiled at him, strolled away, and ducked up a side street.

  “He seemed a serious little man,” said Stu as they walked in the shadows.

  “Yep,” said Spock, and chuckled. “Maybe the half empty can of Singha I left on his back seat might cheer him up.”

  Stu looked shocked and said. “That’s not like you to leave a beer.”

  Spock smiled. “It’s okay, it had gone flat,” he said, feeling pleased with his generosity.

  They went along another side street looking for a drinking establishment and noticed a sign, which made them feel at ease.

  Stu pointed. “Bar,” he shouted and he and Spock quickened their pace.

  They went into a large bar restaurant, sat on high stools at the bar, and ordered two draught beers.

  A Cambodian girl put their beers in front of them and with a squeaky voice said. “There you are, nice and cold.”

  Spock and Stu looked at squeaky, smirked, and took a cool mouthful of beer.

  The long bar was well stocked with spirits, and the lads noticed many bottles of liquor displayed along shelves on the back wall.

  “We have almost every spirit available,” said a large friendly Australian man standing behind the bar who saw them looking.

  The man smiled and said. “G’day, I’m Gary, welcome to Kangaroo Kitchen.”

  Spock and Stu introduced themselves and Gary stayed and talked to the lads for a few minutes about how long he had owned the bar, and how he had collected the large impressive collection of liquor.

  Gary told them that the Kangaroo Kitchen was a busy bar, and although he stood behind the bar talking to customers, it was run during the night time by his Cambodian manager Mrs Thorn. He smirked and pointed at a scruffy Cambodian man behind the bar.

  Spock and Stu looked at Mrs Thorn and furrowed their brows looking confused. “Why do you call him Mrs?” asked Spock.

  Gary smirked. “Don’t ask,” he said, as Thorn, noticing Gary speaking to the lads, gave them an effeminate little wave, showing off his pink, painted fingernails.

  “Oh,” said Spock and chuckled.

  Gary poured himself a draught and asked. “So where are you cobbers from? You sound English.”

  “Yes matey,” said Spock. “We are from Cleethorpes.”

  Gary shrugged. “Never heard of it. Maybe Nick who works here during the day knows it, he’s from Brighton.”

  “Nick from Brighton; do you know his surname?” asked Stu.

  “Yeah, it’s Godfrey… Nick Godfrey,” said Gary and seeing Spock and Stu smirking, asked. “Why, do you know him?”

  Spock and Stu looked at one another, raised their eyebrows, smiled and said. “Yep, he is our mate, but we haven’t seen him for ages. Do you know where he lives?”

  Gary shrugged and said, “Somewhere near Hun Sen Beach, but Wayne will know where. They are good friends and Nick sometimes goes to his bar at night. It’s called Escape Bar on Beach Road, not far.”

  “Two more beers?” asked squeaky seeing the lad’s empty glasses.

  “Yeah, we will have a couple more here and go see if we can find Nick,” said Stu and Spock nodded.

  Gary went over to speak with another new customer and Stu leant over and said. “Gary’s a nice bloke, but did you notice every time he talked about his spirit collection, his eyebrows got excited and moved uncontrollably.”

  Spock chuckled. “Yeah, I noticed that too,” he said, and they looked at Gary.

  “Looks like the eyebrows are in for another Mexican wave,” tittered Spock as Gary pointed out to his collection to another man.

  Spock and Stu yelled. “Woo-hoo,” and raised and lowered their arms in the air.

  Gary looked, smiled, and nodded at the pair, not understanding what was going on with these two dopey pommes.

  Merriment over and several beers later, the lads decided to go to find Nick.

  They stopped a passing tuk-tuk and told the driver to take the route that would bypass Lee’s driver to the Escape Bar. The driver nodded and Spock and Stu hopped aboard.

  The tuk-tuk driver was a happy, chatty man, who gave the lads Cambodian chewing gum and said. “Try, Chnang, tasty.”

  Spock and Stu decided to nickname him. ‘Happy tuk-tuk.’

  ****

  Nick wasn’t too far away. In fact, he was only 50-yards around the corner lying in the treatment room of a clinic having his head sutured. Shanti sat at his side while he ranted on, saying that before the beer can hit him, he looked up into the face of the angel of death. Nick trembled as he said. “And I saw the demon clearly as it hovered above me.” He glared at Shanti and with his voice quaking told her. “It looked like Spock.”

  Shanti, as usual, ignored him when he had visions of Stu and Spock. “Concussion darling,” she kept repeating at Nick’s gibbering.

  ****

  Stu and Spock had fun on the short journey with Happy tuk-tuk, as the old battered tuk-tuk made its way toward the beach. Stu noticed Spock having trouble with his mouth and trying to gnash something loose.

  “What’s up mate?” asked Stu as Spock’s mouth looked like Gary’s eyebrows with a life of its own.

  “This bloody chewing gum tasted like fruity shite and it’s stuck to my bloody denture,” said Spock sticking his finger in his mouth to try to get the gooey substance off his false choppers.

  Stu chuckled and said, “I know, I spat mine out straight away, it tasted bloody awful
.”

  Spock rolled the gooey substance into a ball with his tongue and as Happy swerved to avoid some cows, Spock spat out the sticky gumball, along with his dentures.

  “Bollocks!” shouted Spock, as the package flew out of the back of the tuk-tuk and he yelled to Happy. “Stop, stop!”

  Happy looked back and stopped.

  Spock jumped out and walked back to where he thought his dentures were. The street was well lit, so he knew roughly where he’d expelled his gnashers. He looked aghast and groaned when he saw his dentures several metres away stuck in a steaming cowpat. “Bollocks,” he mumbled and his face scrunched up. Gurning, he looked back at Stu and Happy.

  Stu smirked. “Well, at least they had a soft landing,” he said, before bursting out laughing.

  Mumbling, and with Stu and Happy tuk-tuk’s laughter ringing in his ears, Spock trudged towards his dentures and shit pile. Another tuk-tuk then sped out of a side street, running over the mound.

  Oblivious to what he had just done, the driver carried on. He passed two men in fits of laughter and the words “bastard, useless, and knuckle sandwich” being hollered from behind him.

  Spock got to the now splattered pile. He bent down, recovering half of his denture, and then dug out the second broken piece from the dung. He walked back to the tuk-tuk, gingerly holding one soiled small chunk in each hand.

  Happy tuk-tuk brought over a bottle of water and flushed off the poop.

  “No problem, can fix.” chuckled Happy tuk-tuk.

  Stu hadn’t stopped laughing throughout.

  ‘Well at least he’s stopped moping about Dao, perhaps now we can have some fun,’ thought Spock.

  Happy tuk-tuk put the two halves of Spock’s dentures into a plastic bag and received a short clip around his ear from Spock for killing his dentures.

  “After all that pain and emotional stress, I need a cold anaesthetic. Take us to the nearest bar,” lisped old gummy.

  They got back into the tuk-tuk and Happy told them he would drop them at a bar complex close by and go to fix Spock’s choppers.

  Happy took them to a small bar complex; The Golden Lion Plaza. He dropped them off at the top of a small road, which led down to ten open bars, four either side with two at the bottom.

  “Okay, I go fix teeth and bring back here,” said Happy, holding up Spock’s poopy teeth in the bag and then sped off.

  Spock and Stu walked down into the beer plaza and stopped at the first bar, which was an Irish Bar with the Pogues blasting out.

  With Stu still chortling every time he looked at Spock’s mangled mug, they sat and ordered two draught beers. They spoke to the Asian woman who served them, who introduced herself as Maureen, although her real name was Heng, she told the lads that her foreign boyfriend gave her a customer friendly European nickname. The lads looked at one another and Stu smiled when Maureen told them that she was Vietnamese.

  “Perfect,” said Stu, “we can learn the basics here.”

  Maureen was happy to teach them a few basic but essential Vietnamese words, and thirty minutes later, the lads thought they’d grasped some of the important words and phrases they needed: Bia hoi, Draught beer. Dieu thuoc la. Cigarettes. Su trang diem, Toilet. Gla, How much? She explained to them that every time they took a drink with the Vietnamese, they had to shout Zho Zho! Cheers. They practiced this, making a point of taking many sips and shouting Zho Zho, but after noticing other customers glaring at them and Spock sounded a twat trying to pronounce Z, they decided to save this little piece of fun for Vietnam.

  Maureen then said. “Why don’t you try the bars special cocktail. I invented it.”

  The lads smiled and nodded. “Okay, we will have two of those,” said Stu and because she had spent time teaching them the language, they felt obliged to try.

  “It’s blue,” whispered Stu when the drink came.

  “Hmmm,” groaned Spock, knowing it would be a fruit-based concoction.

  They took a sip from the blue cold fruit drink, which had an aniseed flavour.

  Maureen smiled and looked proud as the lads swallowed the drink and smiled. “The Blue Hengster,” she said.

  “Hmm, it tastes good,” said Stu smiling.

  Happy tuk-tuk then came into the bar with a broad smile. He handed Spock his clean and repaired dentures.

  Happy spoke to Maureen in Cambodian who had noticed gummy Spock, but didn’t want to mention it.

  Spock realised that Happy must have told her about the cowpat episode as Maureen walked further down the bar giggling.

  Spock and Stu grabbed Happy, pulled him into a space between their stools and, while Spock investigated his badly super glued gnashers, Stu force-fed Happy with the two nearly full glasses of Blue Hengster.

  Spock put his dentures back in his mouth, but after rubbing his tongue up and down the repair, he found it annoying and uncomfortable. He realised he needed more anaesthetic beer.

  They left the Irish Bar and went into another lively bar several doors down, dragging Happy along.

  As soon as they went into Pacino’s Bar, a man smiled and came over. “Hello lads, it’s been a long time. Good to see you,” said Strat.

  Spock said hello to the musician who they had met in Siem Reap years earlier.

  Strat, whose real name was Steve, was an ancient, sixty-year-old rock legend in his own lunchtime. A small rotund man, who resembled an anaemic Grandpa Smurf and whose stories always revolved around shagging. The first words out of his mouth were usually. “When I was in the Philippines.”

  His loud friendly cockney demeanour could entertain and amuse any audience.

  Spock, Stu, and Happy tuk-tuk settled in and joined Strat and his drinking buddy Brendan, who had a striking resemblance to a young Fester Adams. Stu quietly asked Spock who Strat was.

  “I have no idea matey, but he seems to know us,” said Spock. Neither Stu nor Spock could remember much about Siem Reap, thanks to the Rumbles and a marijuana pizza.

  Spock chatted with Strat and Brendan, about Strat’s favourite story from the Philippines, involving his hernia operation, a J-cloth, and shitting through the eye of a needle. He reminded Spock of Uncle Albert from Only Fools and Horses, with his catchphrase, ‘During the war.’

  Stu chatted with Alvin, the friendly English bar owner, while they force-fed Happy with beer and spirits.

  They left Pacino’s Bar a few hours later. Spock and Stu decided to carry on their search for Nick.

  They squeezed a now wankered Happy into his tuk-tuk, and told him to take them to the Escape Bar, which they were told wasn’t too far away, luckily for Happy.

  Happy struggled to start his tuk-tuk, and after several kicks, the tuk-tuk spluttered to life. Happy wobbled, smiled and was about to leave when Lee’s Lexus came screeching to a halt in front of them, blocking their escape.

  Lee’s driver got out and gave Happy a round of fucks. Happy just gurgled and smiled, he just wanted to sleep. The driver then glared at Spock and Stu. “We have to go to Brigadier Lee’s house now. I have been trying to find you for hours and my Boss is angry. You are leaving at 4:30am.”

  The lads smiled, thanked Happy, gave him $20, and helped him move his tuk-tuk onto a side reservation. Happy crawled into the back seat and went to sleep, $20 richer, wankered, and happy.

  Spock and Stu got into the Lexus that sped away, with Stu in the front seat, and Spock sat with a grin in the back, swigging on his half-finished flat can of Singha beer.

  They arrived back at Lee’s at before midnight.

  ****

  Just as Stu and Spock were going to bed in Sihanoukville, the commando unit had arrived at the drop zone and moving rapidly through the dark, inhospitable jungle. In pitch-blackness and with no stars visible under the jungle canopy to navigate, the squad relied on their knowledge and honed skills to move through the stinging foliage. Even though the Commander had a GPS, it was useless in this dense terrain, so he only turned it on for brief intervals, to direct them to the fixed position from t
he original sat phone signal.

  It was a hazardous hike, but they were an elite squad and had trained for many years in this terrain. Using their senses of hearing, smell, and honed natural night vision, they moved like nocturnal gazelles. They arrived close to their position at 4:30 am, on schedule.

  They had taken just over four hours to trek five kilometres through dense jungle.

  The commandos gathered around their Commander in a small clearing as he turned on his GPS, looked at where the red spot indicated, turned it off, and pointed. “The signal they recorded came from there, about 200 yards away,” he said.

  The squad glanced, saw nothing, nodded, and then looked back at the Commander who said. “There’s no building, so it’s either a false reading or they are underground. We will find the entrance and then dig in until it gets light and can look more.”

  He looked at his watch and said. “Okay let’s move.”

  They silently made their way through dense vegetation and undergrowth, until they found the mouth of the tunnel. They crept up to the entrance and peered down the lit tunnel.

  Unsure what technology the enemy possessed, they moved away into a clearing and the Commander whispered. “Okay, split up, find cover, and camouflage yourselves. We will meet here at first light and look further.”

  ****

  Pon woke Spock and Stu at 4:00am.

  Feeling grumpy and tired about being woken up early, Spock and Stu complained about it still being night and they had just gone to bed.

  The commandos’ helicopter had returned, refuelled, and the pilot waited on Lee’s lawn for its passengers for the next part of their journey to An Giang, the Cambodian side of the Vietnamese border crossing.

  Lee and Pon looking refreshed, along with two English zombies grumbling, boarded the helicopter.

  Lee’s driver saw the four and scowled at the Brits after waking up early to scrub beer stains off the back seat of the Lexus.

  The helicopter lifted off, flying east into the early morning sky.

  — Chapter Nine —

  The year was 1996. Colonel Lee Tangh stood deep in thought on the outskirts of a small abandoned village.