by Earl Nelson
He told me they were also looking at making precision measuring instruments such as vernier calipers. Again, I told him they all knew better than me.
After that, I went to the golf club to play a round of golf with Mr. Wong and Mr. Lee. They were waiting when I got there. We had handshakes and bows all around.
My Mandarin was good enough that we were able to carry on a normal first tee golf conversation. That is, we made our excuses why we wouldn’t do well today.
When I tried, they laughed at me? I guess it was funny.
I shot another 62 to officially break the course record. This time we all signed each other's cards and had pictures taken. I was assured they would appear in the newspaper.
My scorecard was kept by the club pro to be framed and posted in the clubhouse entrance.
I felt good about myself for doing the right thing by those gentlemen. The next morning, I didn’t feel so good. The late editions of the newspapers had carried the story and pictures of me with Mr. Wong and Mr. Lee.
The morning edition reported that Mr. Shen the player I thought arrogant had committed suicide because he had lost so much face. I was in a different world.
I had a meeting with the Governor later that morning. I told him I felt that I had messed up big time. He knew right away what I was talking about.
“No Rick, Mr. Shen messed up big time. He caused his problems and came up with a solution that works in this society. If he hadn’t taken his own life his family would have paid a price for his loss of face. If he had children, they would have been ridiculed in school. His wife's friends would no longer call.”
“If he owned a business his customers would have gone elsewhere. If he worked for someone, they would fire him, he would not be able to find a job.
“To us westerners it is horrible. To the Chinese, it is taking personal responsibility for his mistakes. If he had stepped back like the other two there would have been no problems, but he didn’t, then he compounded his error by asking you to sign his card.”
“The Chinese view your actions as proper, both in your treatment of him and the other two.”
“What about Shen’s family.”
“I don’t know his family situation, but any family left will now be socially acceptable.”
“What about their financial situation?”
“That my friend is not your problem, and you should stay out of it.”
I didn’t say anything, but I couldn’t let it go. I called my Beijing headquarters and asked that Mr. Shen’s surviving family be investigated. If there were any financial issues, I wanted them resolved discreetly as possible. If there was a Mrs. Shen who needed a job, they were to find her one.
I don’t care about the Oriental values, in this case; I grew up in Ohio and this wasn’t how things were done.
I would never again take the issue of face lightly. I think I had been thinking of cultural differences as a game. It wasn’t, and I needed to pay attention.
The next day, I gave instructions to the pilot to land in Hanoi, where we were expected, I reflected that the issue of face probably extended to countries. I couldn’t march in and demand that North Vietnam normalize relations with the South. It would be a delicate dance.
I had to lead them to suggest that was the solution, their idea, not mine.
We were intercepted by old Soviet MIGs. The way they burned fuel I was surprised they could stay in the air. Their contrails were black.
I was met by the same 1930s limo from my first trip, so I knew it hadn’t been an insult before. This was the best they had.
Tu Youyou acted as my interpreter because she spoke YueYn which is like Vietnamese.
We meet in the same conference room as before. After several long conversations in which I told them that I had talked to several world powers and that they had suggested that any price be determined by the North Vietnamese leadership.
We spent the next four hours of them making suggestions and me saying that sounded interesting but not making any positive signs.
Finally, one of their officials mentioned that the South Vietnamese would be easier to deal with than me.
“Why don’t you do that, that sounds like the most positive item you have put on the table.”
They hadn’t put it on the table. The statement was a complaint of how difficult I was being. That didn’t matter now that the issue had been opened.
Chapter 14
I would like to say things went fast after that. There was progress at a glacial pace. First, every complaint they ever had against the South had to be reviewed. Seeing how the French had been in charge not that many years ago you wouldn’t think there would be much to talk about.
Wrong, issues hundreds of years old were rehashed. The upshot of this revisitation of the past was that there was no possible way to work with the South.
I told them I understood and since nothing could be worked out with the South my hands were tied. No one asked how my hands were tied or who tied them. It was just as well; I was just trying to get them to move from their position.
“Gentlemen you have presented a serious case of why you can’t work with the South, now please present to me the conditions and reasons that you could work with them.”
This was a novel idea. They circled this revolutionary thought for a long time. Since they were the People’s Revolutionary Party, I mistakenly thought they would welcome new ideas.
It neared dinner time and we adjourned for dinner. I was asked what time I wanted to meet in the morning.
I acted surprised.
“Aren’t we coming back here after dinner?”
You could tell they hadn’t planned on it but would lose face if they said no, so we agreed to take up where we left off in an hour.
After dinner, we went back to the room. As they quarreled within their group I sat back and watched. It became apparent it wasn’t that they didn’t want to do something, they just didn’t have a clue as to how to start.
“I have to go to the South next, could I request of them for talks to begin on what trade or business items they might agree on.”
“But where would we meet? Whoever hosts the meeting will be in control.”
I was ahead of them on this one.
“We will do it as North and South Korea do, a building or tent set up half in each country. That way each will host themselves.”
They thought that was a wonderful idea. They thought this would get them home, but I wasn’t done with them yet.
“How many people in your delegation. What rank will they be? What authority will they have? What hours will they work? Who will speak for you?”
I went on with these questions for several more minutes.
They had a dazed look.
“I need answers so that the South can make similar arrangements. If we don’t present a good plan, we will lose face.”
This brought them up in their chairs, no face to be lost here!
It was obvious while they were autocratic leaders, they had never faced anything like a Boy Scout Senior Patrol Leaders meeting. There everything had to be nailed down so a viable plan could be presented to the Scoutmaster.
It was necessary to do this, or you could end up out in the woods without a way to start a fire or no toilet paper.
I have seen both events, so I knew it was critical to have a firm plan. I had also noticed their inability to come to a decision all day long. I had a simple remedy. No sleep until there was a plan.
I had been a Senior Patrol Leader for two years and about eighty camping trips involving fifty or more boys and adults each trip.
It was four am by the time they had a written plan that was agreed upon. They thought they were done. I held them until I used one of their old typewriters to type the plan up and had each one sign it.
I have been with twelve-year-olds that whined less.
Another thing that became obvious was that they were in a bind, or they would have told me to leave. They couldn’t do a
s the Soviets wanted so their only other option was me.
As we filed out of the room the leader turned to me.
“You are a right bastard, aren’t you? We thought you would be easy.”
I shook my head and walked away, if he thought I was tough wait until he meets Mum.
Wasting no time, I continued my journey to South Vietnam. After being up all night, I slept the whole flight and still was tired when we landed. I was picked up in the same limo as before. Maybe I should gift both countries with new cars to pick me up. These things had no springs or shocks to speak of.
At my hotel, the same fine establishment as before I crawled back into bed. As I drifted off, I thought about gifting hotels to them, but that was a bit much. Maybe I could talk Mr. Hilton into putting up a hotel in Hanoi.
I met Trần Văn Hương for dinner in a private room at the hotel. Tu joined us to make certain I understood anything said in Vietnamese though he kept it to English the entire conversation.
Things were going well. The nations he had contacted to help rebuild his city police, countryside sheriffs and national investigation service were working out well.
He was impressed with the training the Deputy Sheriffs were receiving, it seemed to be based on common sense and not a strict interpretation of the rules. That sounded like George Burrell to me.
The school system was getting up and running and promised to be better than anything the French had provided. One heartening piece of news was that the local farmers were creating co-ops to leverage their buying and selling power.
Corruption was down across the country as those who were involved were removed from office and frequently their lives. A strong message was being sent.
My construction projects were on time and under budget, so all was well from my point of view. The army that I was funding was becoming a more unified force.
Trần told me that he had reached an arrangement with the Australian government that they would leave their leadership cadre in place indefinitely.
In exchange, they had signed a mutual defense pact. This now made Australia a true regional power. This in turn led to increased trade between the two countries.
The talk of trade gave me the opportunity to bring up North Vietnam and their proposal which I had with me. He read it through three times before he commented.
This is wonderful. Between their mining in the north and our rubber plantations here in the south, we will have a strong diverse economy.
This will encourage other growth in our countries.
I told him that my long-term hope was that the two countries could reunite but didn’t see how that was possible currently.
We could end up just like China. The Vietnamese live in a small village with few large towns. The small villages are not communing. They are run on a capitalistic basis. It is only in the North's large town that the Communists hold sway.
When they see everyone's standard of living increase, they will change, or they will have to build a wall like the Berlin Wall.
I asked him if there was anything else I could do for the country.
“Keep a low profile. The more the Vietnamese people see this as their doing they will increase their efforts. Right now, there is more pride in this country than I have ever known. I would like to keep that going.”
“That is fine with me, as you know I’m doing this to prevent the Soviets from creating a war here which would involve the US. For some reason, I think our current administration would fall into the trap. I know President Eisenhower almost did when he sent advisors here.”
“Why the US would want to be in a war in Asia I have no idea, I’m glad your peacemaking efforts are working. When are you heading back to Hong Kong?”
“Since there is no reason to stay, I will leave tomorrow morning.”
“Could you take three extra passengers with you? They are US citizens, and we want to return them to the US Embassy in Hong Kong.”
“What is the story?”
“They deny it of course but they are CIA operatives running a heroin operation out of the Golden Triangle. They are raising black funds for disruptive operations here and in Laos.”
“I hope the US Government is embarrassed enough that they abandon the operation.”
“I will see how I can help that along. I can’t believe that a US agency would be involved in such an operation. A lot of the heroin would end up in the US.”
“These people have no morals. To them, any means justify the end.”
“Invite the BBC news crew to take pictures of them being handed over to me. I will arrange for news crews in Hong Kong. We will let the world press report this and see what happens”.
Chapter 15
The next morning waiting for me at my aircraft was a BBC motion picture crew and three men in handcuffs. Their accompanying guards had me sign for them.
I kept a serious look on my face and did not indicate that I recognized them. The BBC talking head wanted to ask me a question.
“Your Grace why are you taking these drug dealers to Hong Kong.”
“I was asked to by Mr. Trần, you will have to ask him why this is happening. I am just providing convenient passage.”
“Be careful, your Grace, these are desperate men.”
“I will. I see they are in chains; they will stay there.”
We boarded my six-passenger charter. When they were settled in their seats and the pilot was ready for take-off, I handed the keys to one of the prisoners.
I turned to the oldest looking of the three.
“Rip Robertson what in the heck are you doing here?”
“I was sent here to shut down a rogue operation and was betrayed. The real drug dealers got away. These two and I were picked up instead.”
I also recognized the other two, I didn’t know their names, but they were two of the ones that got burned in the Soviet operation.
“Why are these guys out in the field? I thought they had been burned.”
“They have but the powers that be thought this would be a simple in and out with no false identities needed. Since we have been recorded by BBC all three of us are done in the field.”
That seemed like a good idea to me, every time I had run into Robertson it was in a failed operation. I didn’t tell them the press would be waiting for them in Hong Kong.
As I thought about it, I decided that it was not a good idea. They had been outed but it was all on the South Vietnamese who couldn’t be blamed for arresting three suspected drug dealers and kicking them out of the country.
It would be different in Hong Kong. I didn’t want to be associated with any part of their arrest and deportation. Not that I cared about that, but I didn’t want the CIA to be mad at me for exposing their agents. I was the one that suggested the publicity. Trần just wanted them out of his country.
I went forward and asked the pilot if he could arrange a landing in Macau. He told me that they would want a reason for our visit.
“Tell them it is for a little gambling.”
Macau loved gamblers; it was their main support.
I returned to the rear of the aircraft and told Robertson my plan. There was a US Consulate in Macau, I would take them there and then they were on their own. Maybe the agency could explain things away.
After landing I was approached by immigration officials. This was one of the few times I was glad of the Asian propensity to accept bribes. Three Ben Franklins and my diplomatic passport got us into the country with no questions asked.
I then got a cab for the four of us and went to a middle-class hotel. There I left the guys to take showers. On the plane, it was very noticeable that they hadn’t had a shower in days.
I wrote their sizes down and went to buy them clothes. I also picked up shaving gear and toothbrushes. These guys were a mess. Their hair was long, but we didn’t have time to get them haircuts.
Several hours later they emerged from the hotel looking almost respectable.
Rip had e
ven come up with a pair of sunglasses. It was nighttime but he had them. Something in the spy psyche, I guess. After seeing what happened to these guys, I figured my James Bond days were over.
I gave Robertson five hundred dollars and dropped them off at the Consulate. He assured me they could make their way home from here. The jerk never even said thanks or acknowledged that I had helped them.
As they were walking into the building one of them did turn and mouthed, “Thanks,” to me. I guess they aren’t all jerks.
From there I went to the Hotel Lisboa and Casino. I didn’t check in, but I let my name and title be known at the front desk. I wanted a record that I was in Macau to gamble. Now I wasn’t old enough to gamble which was simply fine. I got to make a big stink when security wouldn’t let me in.
This established beyond a doubt that I had been there to gamble. I took another taxi back to the airport where we proceeded to Hong Kong.
When we landed, I was met by police and reporters?
When the police asked me for my prisoners, I made a deal of looking around.
“What prisoners?”
“We were told to be here as you were escorting three drug dealers out of South Vietnam.”
“Oh, those guys, big mistake, they weren’t prisoners for drug dealing, they were an embarrassment to the country and South Vietnam just wanted them out. I dropped them off in Macau. I have no idea how they embarrassed the South. I just gave a courtesy ride.
The press wasn’t so easy.
“Duke Richard, does this mean you work for the CIA and helped them rescue their men when their operation went bad?”
“First of all, you address me as Your Grace, only my peers can call me Duke. Second, I do not work for the CIA, never have, and never will. We leave that sort of stuff to my Mum.”
Sorry Mum, but I must get them off the scent.
They badgered me some more, but I gave them nothing.
A car and driver were waiting for me to take me home. It was late but I still had to make some phone calls.
