by CW Ullman
They told My Ling to put out her hands. Into her palms they placed a two pound tiger cub.
One of the girls announced, “We call him Elvis Hai (Two).”
Dao’s eyes misted over watching a tearing My Ling hold the little cub. My Ling stroked his head and stomach as it purred contently.
“We found him down the hill about a week ago. We think he must have been a runt like Elvis and figured we’d try to nurse him back to health. He seems to be doing better over these last few days,” Tuyen said.
Dao said, “He looks just like Elvis. He has almost the same markings.”
My Ling brought the cub over to the Knights and let them run their fingers over the cub’s spine. She added, “See over there where the shed is? That used to be the cage where I spent a year nursing Elvis with a dog named Long. I fed him from the size of this cub until he was over four hundred pounds.”
“I was the one who saw her first and gave her the name ‘Tiger Girl,’” Thanh said.
Charlie watched as the orphaned girls, Thanh, and Tuyen fawned over My Ling, enveloping her with hugs. While the Knights were moved by the affection lavished upon her, they were stunned at what happened next.
Tuyen asked My Ling and her daughter to follow her to the field. When they walked around a stand of trees, a huge roar went up from a crowd of over two thousand people waiting in the field.
“They started showing up about a week ago when word got out that you were coming back to the Lotus Blossom,” Tuyen said. “I tried to tell them to go home, but they wanted to see Tiger Girl.”
For the first time, the camera crew, the Knights, Sister Marie Celeste, and the two ex-special forces men realized My Ling’s status. The chants continued for a many minutes and when My Ling tried to speak they started again. When the chanting stopped My Ling said, “This is Colonel Cin’s daughter.”
Ronnie turned to Charlie, “Did you have any idea?”
“None.”
Neither Charlie nor any of the others could have fathomed this reaction for the diminutive pair of women.
“I am honored that you have come in the memory of Colonel Cin. We have much work to do. I will call a meeting very soon and I will talk to you, but right now you should go back to your homes and wait for my call. In a moment I would like to see village elders at the compound,” My Ling announced. Then she paused taking in the crowd and walked amongst them. She finished by pressing her palms together, “Thank you very much for coming.”
The CBS news crew had filmed the scene. My Ling turned to them and the Los Angeles Times reporter. “Please don’t send this footage back or file any stories yet. If the governments here see it, we will get hurt or killed.
They agreed and instead reported on the river journey, the orphanage, and the tiger cub. My Ling called Thanh and the Americans together in the living room away from the film crew and the reporter. Into the middle of the group walked Sister Marie Celeste who placed her backpack on the table. Charlie opened it.
“How much?” Thanh asked.
“A little over eight hundred and ninety thousand dollars,” Charlie answered.
While Sister Marie Celeste could have worn civilian clothes, My Ling asked her to wear her religious habit until she arrived at her hotel in Phnom Penh. Under the habit, she had carried the bills in several cash belts strapped to her body.
“This is going to buy us protection,” My Ling explained. “There are turf battles going on between Cambodian and Thai drug lords. When we’re traveling through their territories, there should be enough here to buy us save passage.
“The guns are only to be used if we’re attacked by street thugs,” Thanh instructed. “My Ling or I will let you know the difference between small time gangs and drug lord gangs. When we’re on foot, I will walk point with the Manhattan Beach boys behind and the Green Berets bringing up the rear.”
“We have talked with the Cham and they will accompany us across Cambodia to the border,” Thanh explained. “Some of the old regiment Cin and I served in are waiting for us. We’re going to meet them in a few days. When I was attached to the 173rd Airborne, we worked best together when we all got to know each other individually,” Thanh paused, and slowly added, “This is going to be a very big operation. There are going to be a lot of moving parts.”
Charlie asked, “Explain that?
“We’re expecting a lot of people to follow us into Thailand. We have to be prepared for wild animals, injuries, food, intertribal conflicts, illness, authorities, gangs, weather – name it. The people in this room form the basic unit; the command unit. You learned Vietnamese, Cambodian, and Thai back in America so you can talk to our people. After tonight no more English. I want you to be as fluent as possible. You’re already going to stand out like sore thumbs. It’s going to be easier if you can speak their languages.”
All the men in the room were put at ease listening to Thanh, because he spoke their language: strategy and logistics. The men had all been in the service and knew there could not be enough planning or training for any military exercise. It was expected that things would go wrong, but with enough training most problems could be mitigated. As the night wore on, admiration for Thanh grew as he informed them of the plans for the next few days, weeks and months.
After they left the main house, the Knights of the Fire Ring gathered outside, Charlie exclaimed, “I like that guy.”
“Well, I know one thing, I’m going to get a big laugh listening to you guys speak Vietnamese to each other. From now on my name is Poppy San,” Ronnie said, cracking up the group.
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A week later, Thanh led an expeditionary force comprised of the two My Lings and the Americans into Vietnam. They joined up with Cin’s old unit and trained with them for two weeks. The Montagnards felt comfortable with the Americans and seemed to bond especially well with Ronnie.
“They look at me like I’m a long lost cousin,” Ronnie joked.
Training with the Montagnards got the men in better shape and taught them jungle survival skills. They learned what vegetation was edible and what water was safe to drink. They learned how to react around monkeys, tigers, and the most dangerous animal, wild boar.
One of the Montagnards joked, “They’re pissed off because they have the mentality of tigers but they’re stuck in the bodies of wild boars.”
They learned how to kill animals, prepare them for cooking, and how to be on the lookout for bamboo pit vipers and other poisonous snakes.
“Remember, if you find a viper, give it to one of the Degar because they like to eat them,” Thanh said.
Little My Ling trained with weapons and eventually became as good a marksman as her mother. The night before the Americans, the Montagnards, Thanh, and the My Lings left, they gathered around a fire and had a contest to see who could break down an AK47, the most prevalent weapon in Southeast Asia, and reassemble it the fastest. The two women won.
“…and because you won, I told the men you would play for them,” Thanh said bringing out the violin he had secretly packed.
“I’ll get even with you later. I haven’t touched a violin in six months. Are you sure you want me to play?” My Ling’s tease was met with applause.
“They have been waiting to hear the song for ten years,” Thanh offered.
My Ling tucked the instrument under her chin and tuned it. My Ling played the opening of Adoration. What impressed the Americans was not just her ability, but the reaction it caused in the Degar. Their faces softened and Cin’s veterans teared as the air was filled with the music they had heard only once before at his memorial service. Memories of that day reminded them how much they missed their fallen leader. The enveloping melody bonded the small band of warriors.
When the music ended there was no applause, the men could only gaze upon My Ling, as the fire flickered against the foliage of the surrounding jungle. A misty-eyed older Degar stood and came to My Ling to hug her.
The following day, they began the seventy-mile trek back to L
otus Blossom. A small contingent of Cin’s former comrades joined them. Once back at the orphanage, they made plans to surreptitiously visit tribes throughout Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam. My Ling and her daughter went on all of the forays. Many of the tribes that were not friendly with one another but put aside their differences for the two My Lings. After My Ling shared the objectives, Thanh laid out strategies for handling any confrontations with police or military. It took her six months of travel by van, car, or walking to meet with over one hundred tribes in three countries.
In every tribal visit she stated, “If we keep this quiet until the day we enter Thailand, the element of surprise will be in our favor. After entry into Thailand, follow your leaders’ directions.”
After two days of finalizing the details, My Ling called the tribes that had phone service and gave them the date of June 20, 1997 to move out. She reminded them to contact the non-phone tribes and of the staging areas where they would meet. My Ling’s command group had grown to two hundred people, the majority being native Southeast Asians. They departed the Lotus Blossom on boats at three hour intervals so as not to draw attention and motored south along the Tonle San River into the Mekong channel. Thanh thought it was best to take the same route into Thailand that My Ling took nine years previously. The CBS crew and the Los Angeles Times reporter began feeding stories to their foreign desks, but only about My Ling’s portion of the trip.
When they arrived in Phnom Penh, some people from Charlie’s Beach Rotary Club and supporters from Tulsa, Oklahoma, were there to meet them and put them up in outlying hotels.
“How do you like the heat, Deputy?” Charlie asked Mike Wellington.
An exasperated Mike answered. “And, I thought Tulsa was bad in August.”
“How are we doing on the buses?” Charlie asked.
“Well, it’s hard getting these folks around here to do anything, until you show ‘em cash,” Mike said. “The buses should be on the Thailand side of the border waiting for your people. Some guys from Cascia are going to meet us over there and help out. When they found out about this, they all wanted to help,” Mike relayed.
“What about Delores?” Charlie asked.
“Are you kidding me, and miss her Old Fashions by the pool at Southern Hills?” Mike joked. “However, she did write a big check.”
“How is the press coverage back home?” Charlie inquired.
“There isn’t a whole lot, Spud. Not like there was a few months ago. Every now and then a story pops up about My Ling on CBS, but that’s all I see,” Mike explained.
“How long you staying?”
“Gawd, if I don’t melt, I’ll leave after we got the bus thing squared up. And you?”.
“We’re going to escort My Ling into Bangkok and play it by ear,” Charlie finished.
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Thanh, the two My Ling’s, Charlie, and Carlos drove to a small airfield outside of Phnom Penh and boarded a six-seater twin engine Cessna to fly northwest into Ta Phraya National Park in Thailand to meet with three drug lords, one of whom owned the plane. They landed in an unmarked field and were greeted by the plane’s owner.
“Thanh, you old Degar son of a bitch, how are you?” regaled Xais, an old army buddy of Thanh and Cin.
“Xais, you old Hmong son of a bitch, how are you doing?” Thanh replied.
Then My Ling stepped out of the plane with her daughter.
“I hope you didn’t hear me cursing,” Xais apologized.
“This is my daughter, My Ling.”
Xais said. “Your husband was a great leader and for his widow, I would do anything. It is a great honor to meet you and…is this Tiger Cub that I’ve heard so much about?”
Little My Ling nodded just as four jeeps with men carrying AK47s rumbled out of the jungle. They pulled up to the plane where twelve men exited the vehicles. All but two trained their guns on the plane’s passengers and Xais. The two not holding guns walked up and removed their hats.
“Are you the Tiger Girl?” one of them asked and My Ling nodded. “You are legend in these parts. When Xais contacted me, I thought he was setting me up for an ambush. It is a singular honor to make your acquaintance. Please come be my guest for lunch.”
His expression soured when he looked at Xais and mockingly said, “You can come if you don’t put your feet up on any of the furniture.”
Just below the surface was a shared hostility the drug lords had for one another, even though all three were Hmong and ex-military who had helped the Americans during the Vietnam War. The Hmong were esteemed as warriors who attacked the Ho Chi Minh Trail when the Hanoi government shipped supplies to NVA troops fighting in the South. The CIA worked with warlords in Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam lending them cargo planes to move their soldiers, but the warlords also used the aircraft to fly their opium production to Saigon, Phnom Penh and Bangkok. All three had made fortunes selling heroin.
“Man, do I miss the old days,” Xais said.
The host added, “I know what you miss, the C130s,” making all three dealers laugh.
“One thing we have in common is we all hate the communists and miss you bastards,” Xais said, referring to Charlie and Carlos, the Americans in the group. Xais continued, “Hell, things were just getting good when you guys pulled out. I told your generals that backing the Vietnamese was a mistake. You should have backed the mountain people and the Cambodians.”
“Be nice, Xais,” Thanh said. “These men are helping Tiger Girl.”
They drove deep into the jungle and came upon a palatial estate. They entered a courtyard surrounded by trees near a small water fall where a table had been set for them. They relaxed, drank, and ate, telling old war stories and discussing strategy for My Ling’s mission.
“It pisses me off about the little girls,” fumed the drug lord in whose house they were dining. “We’re in the opium business. When I come upon those guys running kids, we take them out.” The other two drug lords nodded.
When they finished, Thanh gave each of the drug lords an agreed upon sum of money. Thanh asked, “You know what to do?” They nodded. Thanh continued, “I’ll call you one week before we reach the last staging area, and then you’ve got twenty-four hours.” The three nodded once more.
My Ling’s entourage left the estate and on the way back to the plane, she asked Thanh, “Can they be trusted?”
“Of course not, they’re drug lords,” he laughed. “But, I think meeting you may have sealed the deal. Keep your fingers crossed.”
They boarded the plane and upon take-off the pilot dipped the wing, circling the estate where the three drug lords could be seen waving up from the ground. The pilot straightened the wings and flew back to Phnom Penh.
Charlie and Carlos were stunned by the meeting and payoff to the drug cartel. This was an introduction to a facet of life they had never known. In fact, from the time they landed in Phnom Penh months earlier it had all been a revelation. They had taken sampans up and down Cambodian rivers, visited with tribes who slaughtered and cooked animals in front of them, and been inundated with different languages. They had lived in an orphanage filled with abused but resilient children, witnessed payoffs, standoffs, and castoffs. Every turn held a new surprise.
Charlie looked at Carlos, the Los Angeles Sherriff, and over the drone of the engine asked, “How are you doing?”
Carlos mulled over the question before answering, “You know how Chief Biwer said fighting in the Vietnam War is a million dollar experience he wouldn’t pay a nickel for?
Charlie nodded
Shaking his head, Carlos said, “I now know what he means.”
“Crazy shit, huh?” Charlie replied.
“The craziest shit…ever. Ever.”
When they got back to the base of operation, they relayed the story to the other Knights.
“Between Thanh and My Ling, I think they know everybody in the country,” Charlie offered.
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After landing, Thanh took the six Manhattan Beach men off to th
e side and reminded them of the threat to My Ling.
When asked who he said, “That’s just it, I don’t know. It’s could be anybody. We need to keep our eyes open and don’t become distracted,” Thanh continued. “We need to stay near her. Some of my guys are going to walk the crowds and see if they can pick up any odd balls.
“A little tip for you: when there’s a crowd around her, look at people’s hands, not their faces. If somebody in the crowd close to her has their hands down or in their pockets, you need to jump on that,” Thanh finished.
“Why?” Charlie asked.
“Because every time Tiger Girl is in a crowd they reach up to touch her,” Thanh stated. “Keep your eyes on the hands.”
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By the time the group departed it had grown to over a thousand. The plan was to travel west until they reached the Cardamom Mountains and connect to the Meteuk River which would take them near the Thai border. The tribes were told that the rendezvous points were along the Meteuk.
The first tribe they met was the Pear who greeted them on the climb into the Cardamoms. Some tribes had contacted the Pear and asked for plateaus within the mountains where they could camp and wait for the Tiger Girl. As the teeming mass of humanity moved through gorges and plateaus, they continued to pick up more people. There were the Bru, Khmer Krom, Sasak, Taron, Alfur, Batek, Pasiking, Semang, Tambanuo, Montagnard, and more. By the time they entered the Meteuk Valley, they picked up scores of tribes with thousands of people. Mike Wellington and the Oklahoma contingent set up food banks along the way so people could pick up either rice or noodles. They drank from the mountain streams and when there was no water there were tanker trucks to supply it.
