FIVE

 

 

Spitting Woman was given a day to rest, then sent out on long-range reconnaissance for several days at a time. Granier saw little of her and worried when she was gone. He knew it was stupid. She could take care of herself. That’s one of the reasons he loved her. She didn’t need him. She wanted him. That made him feel good. He wanted her too. He was excited each time she returned. He waited for her by the edge of the forest like a dog waits for its master.

When she arrived, he picked her up and made her kiss him before letting her down. She didn’t like it. She had just spent several days in the bush and wanted to clean herself in the river first. She liked to smell good for him even though he didn’t seem to care. She relented, kissed him, and he set her down. She motioned for him to go away. He obeyed.

Just seeing that she was okay made Granier feel better. He had work to do and knew he would see her later that night in the forest where they could have some privacy. Spitting Woman never seemed too concerned about privacy or even the appropriateness of their relationship. Granier didn’t feel any pressure like she wanted more. It was what it was, and it would last as long as it lasted. Just being with each other was enough.

When he looked back on his previous relationships – there were very few – the women always wanted to know where it was all going after only a few times of seeing each other. How the hell did he know? The relationships usually ended when he was deployed to some far off place and told them that he wouldn’t be able to communicate for several weeks or months. They never believed him and ended things in a fight. It was more convenient that way.

With Spitting Woman it was different. They didn’t talk, so there was no real way of knowing what was on her mind or even if this was a relationship. He had no choice and neither did she. They just had to go with it. Surprisingly, it worked.

He walked back to the area where the Americans were camped below the cliffs on a rise above the river. The Team’s camp was surrounded by large rocks that could be used for cover in the event of an attack. They had set up a camouflaged lean-to that hid their position from passing planes and shielded them from the rain. It also allowed them to have a small fire to heat their coffee and roast fish caught by villagers in the river and exchanged for American cigarettes.

Giap was talking with Dewey when Granier entered the camp. “Colonel Patti has requested that you attack the Japanese garrison at Tan Trao,” said Dewey.

“And the size of the Japanese force?” said Giap.

“At least a company. But I have been assured there are no more than two hundred and fifty soldiers in all. The old fortress is considered a key strategic point.”

“It should not be an issue. We’ll need a few days to prepare.”

“Of course. I will inform him that you accept the assignment.”

“I will send scouts to reaffirm the number of troops and assess the fortress defenses. I imagine a night attack would be best.”

“Perhaps. But let’s wait for the reconnaissance report before deciding on a plan of attack. It’s always better to plan with intelligence, especially when dealing with fixed defenses.”

Hoagland was tending to Davis’ wound. Green and Santana were playing poker with a well-worn deck of cards. “Buck, you want in?” said Santana throwing a cigarette into the betting pot.

“You playing for cigarettes?” said Granier.

“What else?”

“Dewey wants one of us to go with the Viet Minh to inspect the new village site,” said Green.

“One of you should go,” said Granier.

“Hot date?” said Santana.

Granier said nothing. Dewey and Giap were nearby. It wasn’t that he was hiding his relationship with Spitting Woman, but he didn’t want to draw attention to it either.

“We figured we’d cut cards for it,” said Green.

Granier looked down at the deck. It was hard to tell if it was marked or just so worn that the backs of certain cards were distinguishable. He trusted these two men with his life, but he didn’t trust them at cards. “How about we flip for it?” said Granier pulling his grandfather’s gold coin from his pocket.

“Is that a two-headed coin?” said Green suspicious.

Granier flipped it to him for approval. “Nice,” said Green inspecting the coin. “Where did you get that?”

“It was my grandfather’s. Are you satisfied?”

“Sure. Why not? But how do we make it fair? Someone has to flip twice.”

“Each of us gets a flip. Odd man out.”

“That works. I’ll flip it first.”

“No. I’ll flip it. You’ll drop it.”

Green tossed the coin back to Granier. He flipped the coin three times, once for each man. Granier and Santana both got tails. “Shit,” said Green.

Giap had overheard the three men talking. He glanced at the gold coin as Granier gave both sides of the coin a rub on his shirtsleeve before placing it back in his pocket. There was something about the coin that seemed familiar to Giap. He had seen it before. He said nothing.

 

 

When Giap returned to his cave, he moved to his homemade bookshelf. His books were his most precious possessions. Most were history books, many autobiographies of great military leaders – Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, Sun Tzu, and of course, Napoleon Bonaparte.

He pulled out the volume on Napoleon and thumbed through the pages. Somewhere in the middle, he came upon a drawing of a coin. The coin had been minted in Turin after Napoleon’s victory against the Austrians. Napoleon’s profile was imprinted on one side and the three fleur-de-lie, the symbol of France, on the other. It was gold and had an original value of twenty francs. He imagined it would have increased in worth substantially. “Why would an American keep such a valuable coin in the pocket of his trousers? thought Giap.

 

It was late in the afternoon. Spitting Woman stood before Giap giving him a reconnaissance report in his command headquarters – a small wooden desk and a couple of crudely-built chairs beneath a camouflaged canopy. She had waited over an hour for him. He was a very busy man. She felt honored that he would take the time to hear her report directly. It made her feel like what she had to say was important.

They spoke in her tribal dialect. Giap had learned it when he first arrived. Few in the tribes spoke good Vietnamese, let alone any other language. They were primitive and uneducated. As a learned man that spoke their language, Giap was revered by their tribal leader, and Spitting Woman respected that.

When she was finished, Giap asked her to join him for some tea. She found it strange that such an important man would want to spend any more time with her beyond her report, but she didn’t dare refuse. He offered her a seat and poured her a cup of tea in a fine porcelain cup. She was afraid she might break it when she picked it up and handled it carefully using both hands so she wouldn’t drop it. She sipped the hot liquid. It burned her tongue, but she kept drinking it. She wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. She didn’t want to get into trouble.

She and her family needed the protection of the Viet Minh camp. Without it, they would be forced to return to her tribal village which had already been raided twice by the Japanese, each time resulting in the death or rape of tribal members, including herself. She had considered suicide after the second rape but knew her family, especially her children, would not survive without her. The rapes were a painful memory she tried to push out of her mind. She and her family couldn’t go back to their village, not until the war was over and the Japanese were gone for good.

Giap poured himself a cup of tea. The cup was also made of porcelain, but not matching. Nothing matched, not even the teapot. It was a hodgepodge of fine china looted from incursions against the Japanese and ‘borrowed’ from the Chinese. “The American called ‘Buck’… you are his lover?” said Giap taking his first sip.

“Yes,” said Spitting Woman, sheepishly. “Is it allowed?”

“Of course. It may be useful.”

“How?”

“He has a coin he keeps in his pocket. I’d like to see it.”

“It is gold. Are you going to steal it?”

“We are communists. We do not steal.”

“Do you want me to ask him for you?”

“No. I think it would be better if you removed it while he was asleep and brought it to me so I could examine it. You could return it before he wakes. He wouldn’t know it was gone.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“I believe I have seen that coin before… in a book. I want to confirm it is the same. Tonight would be good.”

“Yes, sir. May I go?”

“Of course. But please finish your tea first.”

She emptied her cup in one swallow, rose, saluted, politely bowed twice, and left. Giap scared her. Not because he was mean or vicious. He was a good commander. But he was also powerful, like one of the gods that lived in the woods. Her life and the life of her family were in his hands.

 

 

Granier was by the river waiting for her return when she saw him. He had protected her in the past and she was sure he would do so again. She ran to him, threw her arms around his neck, and pulled him down for a kiss. Granier seemed genuinely surprised by her outburst of emotion. “Is everything okay?” he said.

She didn’t understand the words, but the concern in his voice told her what he was asking. She looked into his eyes – her protector. She took his hand and pulled him toward the woods. “Okay. I ain’t gonna argue, but don’t you want to eat first?” he said gesturing eating with his free hand.

She didn’t. He picked up his rifle, leaning against the rock, and followed her into the trees.

They moved off a distance from the camp. She pulled him down into the grass on top of her. She wanted to feel his weight. She wanted to know he was big and strong; that he could protect her and her family. She kissed him passionately as she unbuttoned his trousers. He responded.

 

It was after sunset by the time they finished making love. It had been a long session, fiery. She felt a little guilty for having ravaged him the way she had. But not too guilty. He had ravaged her back. She felt a little sore and was sure there would be bruises. She laid beside him, staring, studying his face. He was asleep and looked surprisingly peaceful for a man of war. She wanted to wake him but decided she shouldn’t. He needed his rest, and she needed to do what Giap had ordered.

She felt bad taking the coin without asking. She thought Giap’s request strange, but he was their military leader, and she knew better than to disobey an order from one so mighty. She put on her uniform, careful not to wake the American. Granier’s trousers were laying in a bunch at his feet. She remembered pulling them off in a hurry. She quietly picked them up, reached into the pocket, and retrieved the coin. It was heavy, a sure sign that it was gold. She had never held something so valuable in her hand. She didn’t know how valuable it was, but she was pretty sure it could buy several piglets. Maybe even a full-grown pig that her family could roast and share with their neighbors in the cave. But it wasn’t hers. She was just borrowing it as Giap had said. She glanced back at Granier, still asleep. She needed to hurry. She moved through the trees back toward the camp.

 

She found Giap at the edge of the forest waiting. “You were successful?” said Giap.

“Yes,” she said, handing him the coin.

“He sleeps?”

“Yes, but I don’t know how long.”

“It should only take a moment.”

Giap pulled out a cigarette lighter and broke his own rules by igniting it. This was important and worth the risk. He held the coin to the light from the lighter’s flame and studied it. It was Napoleon’s image he was most interested in seeing. The emperor’s profile was surprisingly detailed for a coin so old. It was beautiful, and Giap admired it. “Who was he?” she asked also starring at the beautiful man on one side of the coin.

“An emperor… like a king.”

“A king?”

“A leader like Uncle Ho.”

“And like you?”

“Yes. I suppose you are right. Like me.”

He closed the lid of the lighter extinguishing the flame and with it the light. He thought for a moment then handed her back the coin.”

“Is that all?”

“For now. You have done well.”

“May I go?”

“Yes.”

She saluted and bowed twice as before. She left Giap standing in the darkness deep in thought. She didn’t like it when men thought too much. It was dangerous.

 

As she moved deeper into the forest, she saw the black outline of someone standing, watching her. She could not see the person’s face. It was too dark. She was cautious and slowed. It could have been a Japanese soldier, but she thought not. The Japanese traveled in groups. This person was alone. She moved closer until she could see the hint of a face from a shaft of moonlight that made it through the forest canopy. It was the American – her lover. She froze. He knows, she thought. She tried not to panic. “I woke, and you were gone. I was worried,” he said.

She didn’t understand the words but thought she knew what he meant. She made a gesture touching her stomach like she was hungry, then gestured eating food. “Oh. Did you bring me some?”

She couldn’t figure that one out, but she could tell by his tone he wasn’t mad. She moved beside him, then moved around to his back. She wrapped her hands around his waist placed one of her hands in his trouser pocket like she was searching for something. She released the coin and let it drop inside his pocket.

“What are you looking for?” he said.

Her fingers slipped around his penis. “Oh. I see. I thought maybe you had enough.”

She squeezed him. “Round two, I guess,” he said turning into her, kissing her, pushing her up against a nearby tree.

She felt good. She had done what Giap had asked. Her family was safe. She was in her lover’s arms.

 

 

Granier and three Viet Minh soldiers hiked through the heavily forested mountains surrounding the Pho Day River. They did their best to keep out of sight even from the Vietnamese in the area. They did not want the Japanese to discover their interest in the village of Tan Trao.

Dewey had decided he wanted his own reconnaissance of the French fortress that guarded the mountain pass and river. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the Viet Minh scouts to give an accurate report. He did. They were very good scouts. It was more an issue of experience. The Viet Minh were accustomed to attacking Japanese patrols and camps. They had never assaulted a fortified position like the fortress at Tan Trao. Dewey wanted one of his own to survey the area and assess the Japanese defenses. He chose his best man – Granier.

Granier had changed, and it concerned him. He knew he was getting soft. He no longer yearned to be on his own. He liked spending time with Spitting Woman and resented when he was given assignments that took him away from her. He didn’t complain. He knew better. He was a soldier, after all, and he had duties. He just didn’t relish those duties as he did before he met her. She had changed him, and he liked it. It was comfortable. He was truly happy for the first time in his life. He wondered if he would get fat but didn’t seem too concerned about it… as long as she didn’t mind.

The reconnaissance team came to the top of a ridge. One of the Viet Minh pointed to the village below and said, “Tan Trao.”

Granier pulled out his binoculars and surveyed the valley and the village. Like most valleys in the Highlands, rice fields surrounded by dikes occupied every available foot of land outside the village. The Vietnamese farmers needed to plant their rice in flat areas where the rainwater would pool. If they ran out of space in the valley, they would build terraces which required a lot more work and needed to be maintained every year; rebuilding the mud walls after the monsoon season.

The village was located on the far end of the valley and straddled the river. Several monkey bridges made of bamboo supports and wooden planks stretched across the slow-flowing water allowing the people on both sides of the river easy access to their neighbors. It was hard to tell how many people lived in the village, but Granier estimated two to three hundred.

The old French fortress was at the mouth of the valley where the river disappeared into the mountains. It was a control point that allowed the French to collect taxes and enforce French law. It had been this way for over a hundred years until the Japanese invaded. Now the Japanese held the fortress.

The Japanese weren’t interested in collecting taxes or even enforcing their laws. They took what they wanted which was everything, including the entire rice crop when it was harvested. The Japanese needed to support their army fighting the Chinese. The Vietnamese would have to fend for themselves. Without rice, their diet’s staple, the Vietnamese starved. The Vietnamese had dealt with invaders before, but none had been so cruel and greedy as the Japanese. Complaining was met with the blades of their swords.

Granier could see Japanese patrols of four or five men working their way through the village and strolling along the top of the rice field dikes. They didn’t seem too concerned. In their eyes, the Vietnamese were docile, like sheep. It was the Chinese that worried the Japanese the most. The sheer number of Chinese troops that could invade kept the Japanese commanders awake at night. But this outpost was far from the border, and the Japanese soldiers would be given fair warning if that day ever came. In the meantime, boredom ruled the day, and rape of the Vietnamese women in the village ruled the night.

Granier decided he needed to have a closer look at the fortress and the number of troops inside. It was only noon, and he would need to wait until dark before he could attempt to infiltrate the fortress. He and the other team members took their time eating their lunch of dried mangos, balls of rice in green leaves and fish sauce. After lunch, Granier had them take turns keeping watch while the rest of the team got some shuteye. It was going to be a long night.

 

A few hours after sunset, Granier woke when a small centipede fell from a tree branch and attempted to crawl into his nose. It wasn’t poisonous like the big ones, but it did send a chill down his spine. He had learned to deal with ticks, leeches, snakes, poisonous frogs, and giant spiders, but centipedes just creeped him out; all those legs. He may have been trespassing in the animal’s territory, but that didn’t give it the right to be rude. He mushed the creature into the ground with his boot.

He took out his binoculars and scanned the village and the fortress again. It looked fairly quiet. There were still patrols, but the soldiers in them were more interested in joking with each other than watching the surrounding area. That’s good, he thought. Lazy makes my job easier. He reapplied his camouflage paint on his face, neck, and hands.

He gathered the team, and they made their way down into the valley, staying hidden in the forest, keeping quiet. If they were discovered, the Japanese would surely chase them. That didn’t worry Granier. It was that they would know a reconnaissance team was scouting their position. They would have time to prepare, perhaps even request reinforcements. Stealth was just as important as the information they would gather.

At the base of the mountain, beside the old fortress wall, Granier gestured to the team members; they were to stay hidden while he went into the fortress. They nodded that they understood. The fortress was surrounded by a ten-foot brick and plaster wall that was originally painted yellow but had faded over the years and was stained black with mold. Granier scaled the perimeter wall and laid flat on the top as he looked into the compound.

There was a two-story building that was the command headquarters, five one-story barracks, a smaller building that looked like a sickbay, a kitchen, a storage hut and an open-air dining area with a roof. He counted twenty-four soldiers in the dining room, some finishing their evening meal, others playing cards and showing photos of their wives, children, and girlfriends. It was still early, and at that time of night, there should have been more.

There were two thirty-five-foot guard towers built on thick wooden poles; one at the front of the compound and one at the rear. A guard post was stationed at the front gateway in the wall, and a heavy machinegun nest with a three-man crew was set back thirty feet from the entrance and had a good field of fire over most of the compound. There was also an 81mm mortar set up near the command headquarters, but it wasn’t manned at the moment. He imagined the machinegun crew was tasked with watching over it unless there was an assault.

In all, Granier estimated that there were probably fifty to sixty soldiers guarding the fortress and patrolling the village. That was much less than expected. He wondered where the other soldiers might be. Some were probably on long-range patrol in the surrounding mountains; others might have been tasked for a mission of some sort. It was possible that the remaining soldiers just weren’t in the fortress at this time and would return in a few days. But Granier didn’t like guessing. He wanted to know for sure. The lives of the Viet Minh and Americans would depend on the number of enemies they would be fighting. A miscalculation could be very costly. He quietly dropped down to the inside of the compound and moved along the wall staying in the shadows whenever possible.

As he approached the first building – the storage hut for the kitchen – he saw a guard patrolling the area. He ducked deep into the shadows. As the guard came closer, Granier closed his eyelids so the whites of his eyes would not reveal him. He completely disappeared in the blackness of the shadow. He listened to guard’s steps to ensure there was no change in the rhythm that might indicate he had seen something and was stopping to investigate. The guard passed without noticing anything. Granier opened his eyes.

He moved along the wall and entered the storage room. He was alone. He took out his flashlight and examined the supplies. He had been taught to measure the amount of food to indicate the number of people consuming it. Rice was the main clue; so many cups per day per man. They should have had plenty on hand since this was a rice farming area. But they didn’t. Not for several hundred men. He checked the cans of umeboshi – salted plums – that were part of every Japanese soldier’s daily ration. Again, too few. It seemed that the garrison was lightly manned, even including the outstanding patrols in the area.

He exited the storage hut and moved to the troop barracks. The barracks were windowless so the air could flow through keeping them cool at night. They were built on heavy poles to prevent flooding during monsoon season. He doubted that any of the soldiers would be sleeping this early in the evening. But two of the barracks had their lights on. He would avoid those two. He climbed a set of stairs and entered the closest hut.

It was pitch dark. He listened for the sound of breathing. Nothing. He was alone. He walked into the room. His footsteps creaked against the flimsy wooden floor. He moved along the cots. There were fifty, but only fifteen had mosquito nets set up and their bedrolls laid out. More evidence. Why not stretch out? he thought. Room to spare.

He heard voices, then footsteps on the stairs outside. He dove between two cots. Two Japanese soldiers entered the barracks and flipped on the light switch. The room illuminated. So much for stealth, he thought as the two soldiers walked in his direction. Shit. He slid under one of the cots and waited until they passed before sliding out the opposite side. The soldiers were walking away from him. He realized he had a very narrow window to escape undetected. He rose and walked out. He didn’t run. The soldier’s footsteps covered the noise of his footsteps. The soldiers stopped in front of their beds just as he slipped through the doorway into the darkness outside.

He checked the other two dark barracks to confirm the bed count. They were the same as the first with only fifteen occupied cots in each. Add an additional five officers and the Japanese garrison was only manned by seventy-five soldiers total. Light. Very light. He had seen enough and returned to his team on the opposite side of the compound wall.

 

 

Dewey walked across the stepping stones in the river to reach the opposite side. It was precarious because the buildup of river moss made the rocks slippery. There was no bridge. Giap and the other Viet Minh commanders were concerned that the Japanese could see a bridge from the air and it would reveal the location of the camp. Instead, they had placed flat stones in the shallowest part of the river.

Reaching the opposing bank, Dewey walked up the hillside to the caves. He entered the open doorway and said, “Hello,” to warn anyone inside of his presence.

“Please, Commander, come in and have a seat,” said a man’s voice.

He entered the small cave and found both Ho and Giap already inside. There was an empty chair made of tree branches and thick strips of bamboo for the seat. “Both of you. This is quite an honor,” said Dewey. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you two in the same room before.”

“It concerns a matter of great urgency on which we need to speak with you,” said Giap.

“Alright. Well… I’m here. How may I help you?”

“It has come to our attention that there is a spy in our camp. As you had suggested,” said Ho.

“And you found who it is?” said Dewey, hopeful.

“We have.”

“Excellent. I assume you will execute the bugger.”

“We do not feel it is our place.”

“Why is that?”

“It is one of your men. The one you call ‘Buck.’”

“What?! That’s not possible.”

“It is possible. He is French.”

“He’s not French. He’s an American.”

“He is French, and we are insulted that you chose to bring him into our camp. You have put the lives of our people in jeopardy.”

“This is ridiculous. He’s an American like me. Not to mention, he has risked his life several times to defend your people.”

“Yes. That is what spies do. Pretend to be on your side while stabbing you in the back.”

“Hang on a minute. What evidence do you have to support your accusation?”

“The gold coin he carries. It is French.”

“You’re accusing him because he carries a gold coin?”

“A French gold coin.”

“It’s a good luck charm like a rabbit’s foot. I have one myself. My father gave it to me before I went off to college.”

“A French gold coin?”

“No. Of course not. It’s a double eagle.”

“An American coin. Quite understandable. But it doesn’t answer why your sniper carries a French coin.”

“His grandfather gave it to him as a momentum.”

“His grandfather was French?”

“Yes. I suppose he was. But Buck is not French. He became an American citizen with the rest of his family when they immigrated.”

“From France?”

“He was twelve years old.”

“A young man.”

“A boy.”

“A French boy.”

“That doesn’t make him a traitor. In America, we don’t judge a person by their heritage. We judge them by their actions.”

“In Vietnam, we don’t have that luxury.”

“He is a good man. Loyal.”

“He is a spy for the French.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Mr. Dewey, try to see this from our perspective. If there is even the faintest chance that your man is a spy, he must be dealt with.”

“What do you mean ‘dealt with’?”

“He knows too much to be released.”

“You’re suggesting you will assassinate him?”

“No. It is not our duty. It is yours. You brought him into our camp. It was your mistake, not ours.”

“Alright. I’ve heard quite enough. There will be no assassination of Americans while I am in command. We are a people of laws. We believe in innocence before guilt.”

“Nobody has to know. But he must be dealt with… and soon.”

“If you persist, my team and I will leave… and American support goes with us.”

“I see. I wonder if your commander Patti will see the situation the same way.”

“I assure you he will.”

“Perhaps. Or maybe he will see our attacks against the Japanese as a higher duty than one man’s life?”

“I have nothing further to discuss.”

“Very well. Enjoy your evening.”

Dewey left in a huff. “What would you have me do?” said Giap to Ho.

“Do what is necessary to deal with the problem.”

“Yes, Uncle.”

 

Dewey walked into the American camp, his mind racing, mumbling to himself. He saw Hoagland finishing up tending to Davis’ wound. Dewey waited until Hoagland was finished and Davis was resting quietly. “How is Davis?” said Dewey.

“Much better. The infection is nearly gone. He’s healing well,” said Hoagland.

“Excellent. When can he travel?”

“Travel?”

“Back across the border. I’m going to send him back with Buck. He’ll make sure they get through.”

Hoagland sensed by Dewey’s urgent speech that something was wrong. “Commander, excuse me for asking, but is everything alright?”

“No. But when it is ever? We’re dealing with barbarians.”

“What happened?”

“That’s none of your business, Hoagland.”

“Of course not. But you’re talking about sending one-third of our team back to headquarters. Is that wise? Especially at this juncture.”

“We do what we have to do… for the success of the mission.”

“Alright. I imagine it would be a week before Davis is ready.”

“A week?”

“Yes. It’s a long journey on foot. He has to regain his strength.”

“I see. Very well. Keep me advised on his progress.”

“Of course.”

Dewey moved off, distraught. He stopped at a spot overlooking the river. He considered the events and marveled how things had unraveled so quickly. He could not let the mission fail, not if he wanted to continue with his career in the OSS, not if he wanted to serve his country.

 

 

Granier and his team hiked through the forest at a good clip. He was anxious to get back to the Viet Minh camp. He thought about what he had discovered and what he would tell Dewey. His report could cost American and Viet Minh lives if he was wrong. He wasn’t wrong, but he was unsure how right he was. It all depended on how one interpreted the information. It was up to him to provide a clear picture of what was happening on the ground and not to exaggerate its meaning. Dewey would interpret the information how he saw fit. They didn’t always agree, and that was okay, but there were a lot of lives at stake.

This would be the most difficult raid yet for the Viet Minh. The Viet Minh had surprise on their side, but the Japanese were entrenched in a well-armed fortress. Standard military doctrine suggested that the attacking force would need to be three times that of the defending force in a fortified position. That was not a comforting thought for Granier. A lot of Viet Minh could die.

 

 

Dewey went back to Ho’s cave and entered. Giap and Ho were still there discussing the problems in the camp. “If I may interrupt?” said Dewey.

“Of course,” said Ho. “Please sit down.”

“I shall stand. This will only take a moment. I have reconsidered our discussion and… although I think it very unlikely, I suppose it is possible that Buck is a potential threat to you and your people. At least I understand the reasoning behind your conclusions. I will send him back across the border with our wounded man, Davis, as soon as he is well enough to travel. In the meantime, we will move forward with the raid on the Japanese garrison at Tan Trao.”

“This is not what we asked for,” said Ho.

“No. This is a compromise. It’s an effort not to abandon the progress we have made. We still fight a common enemy.”

“And what will happen to your man in the meantime?”

“I will watch him personally.”

“You will be responsible for him and his actions?”

“Yes… as always.”

“And during the raid?”

“He will be with my men and me. I will keep a close eye on him. When we return, he will leave with Davis.”

“Would you accept an alternative?”

“I would not. I am informing you of my intentions. I am not asking for your permission.”

“Then I see we have little choice. Thank you for informing us. See that you watch him closely. He is your responsibility.”

“Right. Well… good day,” said Dewey, turning and leaving.
 

 

Spitting woman was not happy when a messenger said Giap wanted to meet with her again that evening after sunset. In her mind, Giap was trouble she didn’t need. It was always better to stay away from powerful men, especially if you were a Viet Minh woman. She entered the forest where they had met before. Giap was waiting with another man, Spitting Woman’s unit commander, Mr. Doa. “Am I in trouble?” she asked, sheepishly.

“No, my daughter,” said Giap. “You have proven your loyalty and your usefulness. There is a matter we need to discuss with you.”

She said nothing in response. She listened. Giap’s accent in her native tongue was not good. At times she had trouble understanding him, and she wondered if he had trouble understanding her.

“The American… your lover… he is a spy for the French,” said Giap, careful, knowing it would be a blow.

“That’s not possible. I know him. He is a good man.”

“He is a traitor.”

“He has fought for us. He saved my life many times.”

“Yes. A spy does that so that you trust him. So you will tell him your secrets.”

“How do you know this?”

“The coin you took from him and showed to me. It is French. A gift from his grandfather. His family is French. He was born in France. He became American when he and his family went to the United States.”

“He told you this?”

“No. The American commander, Dewey, told me when I confronted him about the coin. But all that doesn’t matter. Your lover is a spy for the French. Uncle Ho and I are sure.”

“Uncle knows?”

“Yes. I had no choice but to tell him.”

“Oh, no…”

“Uncle does not blame you. The Americans and we were fooled too. It is not your fault. The French man is deceitful.”

Spitting Woman felt her legs giving out. Her power was gone. She squatted on the ground, knowing it was disrespectful, but she couldn’t stand anymore. She felt faint. “This can’t be true. What will happen to him? Is he being sent back to China?”

“No. That is not an option. He knows too much about us. He is endangering all of us; your tribe, your family, your children. He cannot be allowed to leave and rejoin the French.”

“What are you saying?”

“He must die. His death must seem an accident. We cannot afford to lose the American’s support. They will not accept his assassination by our hand or their own. He must die in battle. During the upcoming raid on the old fortress at Tan Trao. Commander Doa will help you.”

“You want me to kill him?!”

“Yes, but it must seem that the Japanese did it. You and Commander Doa will create the situation to ensure his death.”

“I can’t.”

“This is an order. You must obey. The Viet Minh have protected you, your family, and your tribe. We wish to continue this arrangement, but we can only do so with your strict obedience. You should think about your children and your parents. You must do what is necessary to keep them safe. Do you understand?”

Spitting Woman was frightened by the thought. She had seen what the Japanese could do to young children. They were barbarians. She loved Granier, and she loved her family. It was a terrible choice to make. She slowly nodded and said, “I will do as you say.”

 

Granier returned to camp and looked for Spitting Woman. He missed her and wanted to hug and kiss her before reporting to Dewey. She was nowhere in sight. The information he had gathered was important, and he knew he must report it immediately.

 

Granier found Dewey with the other Americans and reported his findings from the mission. “How sure are you that there are only seventy-five soldiers in the garrison?” said Dewey.

“There is no way to be sure. They could receive reinforcements any day. It could also be that they were due for a supply shipment, and that explains the low food stocks. But if I am right, we should attack as soon as possible. With only seventy-five men, we could easily defeat them with minimal losses of our own,” said Granier.

“I see. How many men would you suggest as an assault force?”

“Well, I’ve been giving that some thought. The smaller the force, the faster we can travel without being detected. I think five hundred. That’s enough to defeat the garrison even if they do receive reinforcements.”

“Alright. Five hundred. Light machineguns and mortars?”

“Absolutely. And plenty of grenades. We’ll also need some of Davis’ explosives to destroy the fortress when we leave.”

“Yes… Davis. There’s something else I need to speak with you about.”

“What’s that?”

“When this mission is completed, I want you to take Davis back across the border.”

“You think he’s up to it?”

“Hoagland assures me he will be by the time we return.”

“Okay. I can hitch a ride back with the next supply drop.”

“No. You won’t. I’ve asked for your replacement.”

“What?! Why? I can believe you’re disappointed in my performance.”

“It’s not that. Look I know you’ve grown fond of the Viet Minh scout. Normally, headquarters frowns on fraternizing with our allies, especially when they are aborigine.”

“That’s why you’re sending me back. Because I’m fraternizing? That’s bullshit, Commander. Everybody has been fraternizing.”

Dewey felt like a coward and decided to come clean. “It’s not that. Mr. Van and Mr. Ho have discovered that you were French.”

“What? How?”

“It’s not important. What is important is this mission. We are making real progress with the Viet Minh. And they, in turn, are taking the fight to the Japanese just as we planned. They’re saving lives.”

“Chinese lives.”

“The lives of our allies. If we stay the course, it is just a matter of time before the Japanese are forced to withdraw from China and Indochina. But Mr. Ho and Mr. Van are threatening to withdraw their forces if you stay in the camp.”

“Look. I can talk to them. I can explain. I’m not a spy.”

“I know that. And I think deep down they know it too, but in their minds, they can’t risk it. They hate the French. And regardless of your loyalty to America, they see you as French.”

“You’ve got to let me try to explain, Commander.”

“No. It’s done. The decision has been made. You will be returning to headquarters in China. That’s an order.”

Granier was stunned. It took him half a minute before he responded, “Yes, sir.”

“You’ve done excellent work here, Buck. Someday, the Viet Minh will recognize that. In the meantime, you will have to accept the gratitude of a grateful nation. I’ve recommended you for a Bronze Star. Commander Patti assures me that you will get it.”

“Yeah. Thanks,” said Granier. “May I be excused? I’ve got a lot to do… to prepare for the raid.”

“Of course.”

Granier left, downcast and unsure.

 

 

Granier found Spitting Woman walking toward the river. He was glad to see her but unsure how he would tell her that he had been ordered to leave. He thought about telling her that he would come back when the war was over. At the rate the Americans and their allies were advancing in the Pacific, he didn’t think it would last too much longer, especially if they could cut off the Japanese supply lines. In the meantime, he was sure he could get leave and maybe take her someplace nice like the Philippines or Hawaii. He had saved up a lot of money over the years, and he couldn’t think of anything he would rather spend it on than making her smile. “Hey,” he said approaching her from behind.

She turned. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and she looked away. Granier was surprised, worried. “What’s wrong?” he said. “I thought you’d be glad to see me.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Whoa. Hey, what’s wrong? Is it something I said?” Then it dawned on him, “You heard, didn’t you?”

She was angry and disappointed. She slapped him across the face and hit him with her fists on the chest and arms. “Wait a minute. It’s not my fault. I don’t want to leave. I especially don’t want to leave you. But I’m a soldier like you. I have to obey my orders.”

She stopped and broke down sobbing. He grabbed her and held her close. “Stop. Stop. It’s gonna be okay. It’s not forever. The war will end soon. I can come back. I will come back. I promise. You’re the only woman that has ever made me happy. I wouldn’t leave you for the world. You gotta believe me. I love you.”

She kicked him until he let her go. She ran off into the woods. He didn’t follow her.