Monsoon

by Di Morrissey

  ‘Must have been a slow process. Was it welcomed?’

  Baz grinned. ‘Yeah, it took a while, but once I decided to base myself here and they realised I was genuine and I was getting help from Aussie vets and organisations, then our group was made official, in 1994.’

  ‘So what are you doing?’

  ‘Fundraising, first up. Now we get government help from Australia as well. Essentially we try to provide practical aid and assistance. We built a school, put toilets in houses, set up agricultural projects, medical facilities and a kindergarten. Where we see a need we try to help. Our objective is to improve relations between the peoples of Vietnam and Australia.’

  And you’re back in command, running things, and doing a good job too, thought Tom. ‘And on a personal level?’

  ‘I think all the blokes who come here agree – we want to make some restitution for what we did to this country. Payback time. It helps us too.’

  ‘And Long Tan?’

  ‘That’s been another battle. A cross was raised at the site on the third anniversary of the battle and stayed there while Aussies were stationed in the province. Then it was moved to the local museum. For twenty years servicemen have been coming back and the Long Tan cross was the focal point. So in 2002 we got the cross renovated, raised funds and, with the co-operation of the Vietnamese, we unveiled the memorial. We also raised funds to improve the local roads and make it easier to visit.’

  ‘I assume there are certain protocols to be observed by visitors?’ said Tom.

  ‘Yeah. You’ve got to have a permit, medals are not to be worn, and they like to keep groups small. The plaque is kept in the local police station and brought out by the guides for visitors with the permit to pay respects and then it’s put back. To keep it safe. Anyway, we’re knee deep in negotiations for this fortieth anniversary.’ He sighed. ‘Everyone from the pollies, bureaucrats, business people, locals, veterans’ organisations – everyone wants to have a say in the ceremony. Naturally the vets feel they should have the main say. We want to start the service at three-forty when the battle started. So we’ll see.’

  ‘Long Tan is finally getting recognition back home,’ said Tom.

  They were joined by two other veterans, Cranky and Ed, who sat down with their beers and talked of their own experiences of fighting in Vietnam and how it had affected their lives.

  ‘Bloody dreadful when I look back on how miserable I was and how it affected my family,’ said Cranky. ‘That’s how I got my nickname. By the time I’d lost my wife, my house and quit my job I had nothing to lose so I agreed to come over here.’ He shook his head. ‘It was cathartic. So I stayed.’

  ‘We see blokes who come over here release a lot of bottled-up agony and go back new men. Many don’t want to ever come back again; others get a different perspective and want to encourage other mates, bring their families over,’ added Ed. ‘I’m a widower; my kids are all happy and settled back home; they don’t need me. So I retired over here and I have a little boat. I live on my own – it’s a good life. I see enough of these blokes each week to appreciate my peaceful life.’

  ‘So do you see your role as encouraging veterans to come back? To make this pilgrimage?’ asked Tom.

  ‘It’s a good way to honour your mates and if some vets are having problems they can talk to us,’ said Cranky.

  ‘There is a mob back home who’ve been helping blokes deal with the trauma. Not the professional service people, but a group of fellow vets,’ said Baz. ‘They go bush and talk. It’s run by blokes who know what they’re doing. Seems to help.’

  ‘Some blokes I know just couldn’t cope with city life after the war so they got jobs up north in isolated areas where they didn’t have to see people very often,’ said Ed. ‘Being with nature and animals rather than crowds of people made it easier.’

  They all fell silent for a moment, each reflecting on their own experiences till Baz spoke up.

  ‘Hey, barbie’s going. Grab a plate and some food, Tom.’

  They settled at a table, Baz’s young son, Todd, squeezing in beside his father, who handed him a sausage wrapped in bread.

  With another round of drinks, the men began exchanging stories with Tom, asking where he’d been during the war. They all talked about the girls they’d met, the escapades, the characters, the narrow escapes. The bleak and fearful times were not mentioned.

  For Tom it was a memorable evening. He was a good raconteur with a fund of stories that went down well with an appreciative audience. In the taxi going back to The Grand he knew he’d have a headache the next morning, but it had been a long time since he’d been able to share an evening with men who’d been in the same place at this particular time in their lives. The memories had come pouring back.

  He debated about going to the Long Tan memorial on his own, but decided to wait until he came back and went to the anniversary commemoration, and write about the impact of the event by sharing it with the men who’d fought there on 18th August 1966. He wondered if entertainer Col Joye would be there and then he remembered the soldier he’d interviewed in the hospital the day after the battle. Phil Donaldson. Could that be Sandy’s father? Tom began to see another angle to his unfolding story on the return to Long Tan.

  Settled on the back verandah with a pot of tea after touring his garden, Tom took a biscuit and munched it thoughtfully. His wife, pleased to have him home, watched him chew slowly.

  ‘C’mon, Tom, out with it all. Your trip to Vietnam: what was your biggest impression?’ asked Meryl eagerly.

  Tom finished his biscuit and downed a mouthful of tea. He’d already told Meryl about Hanoi and Saigon, of his adventures with Sandy and Anna in Halong Bay and of the veterans in Vung Tau. Now, sitting in the sunshine of his quiet suburban backyard, Vietnam seemed far away. And yet, he didn’t feel he had totally left it behind; nor did he feel completely back at home since arriving in Australia the day before.

  ‘It seems as if I could just step outside and order a bowl of noodles in the street. I keep listening for the jangle of bicycle bells. Everything here smells strangely clean. I think I’m still in transit.’ He smiled. ‘Lots of impressions. Biggest I s’pose are the changes. I kept flashing back to how it used to look. Lots of memories of people and places I knew then.’

  ‘And how is it today?’

  ‘Terrific. You’d love it. For a tourist, for anyone, it’s great.’

  ‘So you’re definitely going back? There’s a good story there?’ asked Meryl. While it had taken Tom hours to get back into the rhythm of their lives and onto Sydney time, he seemed to have more get up and go than she’d seen in a long time.

  ‘Yeah. Several stories, though I guess they’re all entwined. Met some beaut people. In fact, I had an idea.’ He grinned at her. ‘I thought you might like to go back with me – as a birthday present.’

  ‘To Vietnam! For my sixtieth! Gosh, yes. How wonderful. It’s quite safe, isn’t it?’ she added. ‘I mean from a health point of view?’

  ‘Look at me. Didn’t get a tummy bug or feel crook the entire time. The food is even better than I remembered. Seriously good tucker – and some very upmarket places to eat. Not to mention the shopping. I can guarantee that you won’t be bored while I’m trailing around doing my thing.’

  Meryl leaned over and gave him a kiss. ‘How exciting! Thank you, Tommy. It will be the best birthday present ever! It means a heap to me. I know Vietnam is a special place to you and I’m thrilled I can share it with you. Where are we going? Just Long Tan? Or other places too?’

  ‘We’ll move around. I have to check in with some veterans. First I’m going to see Anna’s and Sandy’s fathers, the girls I met over there. Great kids. I went through my old stories, and I think I interviewed Sandy’s father after the battle.’

  ‘Are you sure? What a coincidence.’ Meryl had been bemused to find Tom had befriended two young women on his travels.

  Tom went inside to his desk, brought back a red folder and pulled out a pile o
f yellowing carbon copies of stories he’d punched out on an old typewriter before sending them off with cans of film and sound tapes. ‘Here’s my Long Tan stuff. At the hospital I came out on a chopper with Col Joye and we went to visit the boys who’d been wounded and airlifted from Nui Dat to Vung Tau. Listen to this.’

  Slowly, in his broadcaster’s voice, he read from his old script.

  20 August 1966

  This is Tom Ahearn reporting from South Vietnam.

  It is believed eighteen Australians were killed in a surprise attack on a platoon in the Long Tan rubber plantation near the Task Force Base at Nui Dat. The wounded have been evacuated to the field hospital at Vung Tau in Phuoc Tuy province. Entertainer Col Joye, who had been performing in the area, was among the first to visit the wounded in hospital. He spent time with Sergeant Phillip Donaldson of Sydney, who had been one of the first to encounter the North Vietnamese Regular Army.

  [Tape insert Donaldson] ‘We thought there’d been a small unit of VC in the area . . . but the enemy were wearing khaki uniforms. The penny didn’t drop till afterwards that they were regular army. It was bad . . . some reckoned we were outnumbered twenty to one. Bloody dreadful. There’s not much cover behind a rubber tree, mate! When we first walked in on patrol, we could hear the music. We were pretty upset at missing the concert, so it’s been a big thrill to meet Col Joye. I’m hoping I can get back into the action with my platoon as soon as possible.’ [End tape insert]

  The full extent of the numbers involved on both sides in the battle fought in the Long Tan rubber plantation is yet to be confirmed. But it’s been a defining conflict for the men of the Sixth Royal Australian Regiment. Private Donaldson’s spirit is typical among the wounded men I met today. But they carry the knowledge that many of their close mates died at Long Tan.

  This is Tom Ahearn reporting.

  ‘And that Phil is your friend Sandy’s dad?’

  ‘Yeah, I think so. Anyway, I’d like to meet him and find out for sure. Seems like he had a bad time of it. Like a lot of the vets who came back from Long Tan.’

  ‘So how are those who went to live in Vung Tau coping?’ asked Meryl.

  ‘I’m really impressed with what they’re doing. They’ve all started over – new families, a new life. But for most of them who go back, it’s a matter of coming to terms, settling ghosts, finding some peace.’

  Meryl was thoughtful. She’d married Tom several years after he’d returned from working overseas in other Asian posts after Vietnam. But she’d never really asked what effect being there during the war had had on him. ‘What about you? You saw some awful things, I suppose. Were you close to the fighting? Did you have problems then?’

  Tom put the script back in his old red folder, filing away the memories. ‘Yeah. Before I met you.’ He got up and left the verandah, leaving his tea, and she knew the subject was closed. Going to Vietnam with him for her birthday while he covered the story of the anniversary might be good for both of them. After years of marriage it was ridiculous that there were things they’d never talked about, never shared.

  She wondered what Tom had been like as a young man in his twenties, before she’d met him. At least Tom had got over whatever troubles he’d suffered during the war, even if the memories had been rekindled.

  9

  SANDY LEFT THE FLAT early, deciding to go for a run around the lake. It had been a while since she’d been to Hoan Kiem with the early risers but she needed a break as it had been a restless night. She imagined Anna was feeling tired, too. Carlo’s love-making sounded very demanding. And in the proximity of the tiny flat, there was little privacy. Sandy didn’t blame Anna: she’d heard her trying to shush Carlo, but he had taken no notice. It was clear that Carlo’s staying in her flat wasn’t going to work. Perhaps he and Anna could move into a hotel or a small furnished apartment.

  Then she found the solution. She knew that Barney and Lai wouldn’t mind if Anna and Carlo stayed in the apartment above the cafe. It was a cute funky place. Barney had kept many of the famous old paintings as well as acquiring new ones. Barney would probably be pleased someone was staying at the premises full time from a security point of view. Cheered by this simple solution, she broke into a fast jog, turning her mind to their first day as cafe managers.

  At the flat Anna was remonstrating with Carlo as he rummaged in Sandy’s kitchen cupboards.

  ‘Doesn’t she have any decent coffee? I’m not drinking the mud they call coffee here.’

  ‘Carlo, you’re not listening. We have to find a place of our own.’

  ‘What for? From what you say, we’ll hardly be here. You’ll be at the cafe during the day; I’ll be there in the evening.’

  ‘You don’t have to do that . . .’ began Anna. But Carlo leaned over and kissed her as he held up a can of coffee. ‘Good old Starbucks. Who brought this?’

  ‘An American friend of Sandy’s, I suppose. When people come to visit they always bring something. I brought Vegemite and honey,’ she added pointedly. So far Carlo hadn’t produced any gift from home. He ignored the comment and began making the coffee. ‘What do you want to do today?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ll cruise, get the layout of the city, bit of a feel for the place. Where’s Charlie’s gallery?’

  ‘Why do you want to go there? You’ve never been interested in art.’

  ‘I smell a deal. Y’know, these eastern artifacts, quality stuff, can fetch good money. He’s only dealing with the US, but there’re a lot of rich Asians at home who must want to collect these sorts of things.’

  Anna didn’t argue. Carlo had a nose for a business deal. He was always full of stories, schemes, ideas. She just wished one of them would make the financial killing he was always promising. ‘There’s a map and brochures on the coffee table,’ she said. ‘You have to look around as there are so many different types of things to buy. You see one thing and think it’s great then you find another that’s better and so on. I always get confused and can’t remember where I’ve seen what. Write it down. You should check out the good-quality lacquerware: it’s gorgeous.’

  ‘Sweetheart, I’m not buying souvenirs. You need to go to the source for merchandise.’

  ‘At least see what’s available. What people make here. You really need to travel round the countryside. Every place has its own specialty, from marble and ceramics to fish or soy sauce.’

  ‘Forget food. I’ve got that covered. And I’m sticking with Italiano, thanks very much.’

  ‘You wait till you taste pho and some of the traditional dishes. Yummy.’ Anna put on a piece of toast to cook.

  ‘Why don’t we check out the breakfast joints?’ Carlo put his arms around her. ‘Or go back to bed?’ He nuzzled her neck.

  ‘Carlo, cool it. Anyway I hear Sandy downstairs talking to Mrs Minh.’

  ‘Doesn’t that old bag ever sleep? Doesn’t she have a family to look after?’

  ‘Of course she does. There’re three generations in that flat of hers. This is a crowded city; have a look at the buildings, the way people are crammed in. But it’s more their way of life, the extended family, everybody living and working together. They don’t like being alone,’ explained Anna.

  Carlo gave her a quizzical look. ‘You suddenly know a lot about this place.’

  ‘Yeah, well, you can’t help it, living with Sandy. She’s been here so long and working with HOPE she knows stuff. And I’m observing things myself,’ she added.

  Carlo poured his coffee. ‘Yeah, well, don’t get too attached. This is a one-off visit.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’ asked Anna, surprised and a little defensive. ‘It’s a fascinating place; there’s no way I’m going to see all of it in one trip. Sandy might stay on here longer, so I could come back.’

  Carlo gave her a look. ‘You haven’t seen Italy yet. Now that’s a really great scene. Don’t get too many ideas about this place.’

  ‘What do you mean, “ideas”?’

  ‘Look in the mirror, Anna. You’re a
great-looking bird. Bella, bella. But even if you’re half one of them, you weren’t born here. Just don’t feel you have any links here in Vietnam, that’s all.’

  ‘But I do!’ exclaimed Anna. Then, shocked, she stopped to consider her spontaneous reaction but decided not to pursue it with Carlo. ‘Like you have links to Italy. Your family came from there. You like going back there. You know your heritage.’

  ‘That’s different.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I have family there; we do business there. I live with my heritage every day,’ he said patronisingly.

  Anna heard Sandy’s footsteps in the hallway. ‘I probably have family here, and I’m starting to learn about my heritage too,’ said Anna quietly.

  ‘Fine. Just don’t bring it home. Our kids are being raised on pasta not rice.’

  Before Anna could answer, Sandy came through the door. Our kids rang in Anna’s head. Carlo had never formally proposed to her; there was an understanding that they were a couple but Carlo had always hedged about any commitment until he’d made a motza and could afford to live the way he dreamed.

  ‘Hi, guys. You got breakfast under control, Anna?’

  ‘Yep. Want a coffee?’

  ‘No, thanks. I had one down at the lake.’

  ‘Carlo wanted to go out for breakfast. Maybe I’ll take him there.’

  ‘Fine. I’ll go over to the cafe and get the keys from Barney. He’s opening up and then they’re heading out to the airport. I want to make sure the early staff are there. I’ll just have a quick shower and change.’