11-14 February 1974: Sam Neua, Northeast Laos: Since the last Frenchman had left Sam Neua on 3 April, 1953, nearly twenty-one years before, there had been only one occasion when the non-communist world had been invited there and that was the British, some ten years previously. Rance was down at the hanger first thing that morning as he wanted to be quite sure that Lafouasse, an ardent hater of Les Popovs, had rigged up the rear pair of headsets to be mutually compatible and on their own private circuit – just in case. He asked Crosland and Lafouasse to talk into them while he listened on the main channel. Only then did he profess himself satisfied. He thanked Lafouasse who grinned a happy, appreciative and conspiratorial smile in silent answer.
At twenty past nine, two LPF men turned up, driven and escorted by a pair of hard-faced PL soldiers. ‘I am indeed looking forward to these next few days, Tan Soth, Tan Bounphong. I am conscious of the honour of the occasion and its importance. I would like to think that I can act, even ever so slightly, as a bridge between the two sides. Quite how, I don’t know but I believe your people in the other zone,’ – Rance could never get himself to call it the Liberated Zone – ‘have to get used to non-communists and representatives of the western world, meeting them and talking to them, using a different dialectic from that which has been their staple for so long. It will be hard work prising themselves from their caves and harder work facing the world. I remember first meeting you, Tan Soth. You are now as you were then but you, Tan Bounphong, were different when we first met. As the English expression has it, “people could run rings round you” as far as talking with my sort of person was concerned but now,’ and Rance’s eyes met the others’ unflinchingly, ‘you have acclimatised.’ He broke off, apologetically. ‘Sorry! I am overstepping the mark. I’m really not a diplomat, only a soldier so I shouldn’t talk like this.’
‘Not at all, Tan Colonen. You have an uncanny knack of touching on matters many foreigners never notice or, if they do notice them, take them for granted. I agree with you entirely,’ said Soth. ‘What do you think, Comrade?’
Bounphong Sunthorn was spared an answer as the noise of a car distracted them. Soth Petrasy turned round, saw the British flagged car approaching them and moved away from the Beaver to greet the Ambassador and the First Secretary. The two escorts were with the car that was parked to a flank. Bounphong Sunthorn moved close to Rance and, in an undertone and not looking at him, said, ‘I wish you a good, safe journey. I am not sure what you will learn in Sam Neua but I hope you can get a chance to talk with Thong Damdouane. Try and find out about Mana. He is the big, main and dangerous worry.’
Tango Papa Charlie,’ called the Tower. ‘Clear for take-off’
‘Tango Papa Charlie. Roger. Rolling,’ crooned the pilot into his headset, letting the brakes off as he did. The Beaver surged forward, slowly at first then accelerated and, as it drew level with the two LPF officials waving to is passengers, lifted into the air, banked and, making a slow turn north, headed for Luang Prabang. The two men on the ground glanced at their watch. ‘Got away dead on schedule, 10 o’clock. These British are sticklers for time,’ said the elder.
‘Indeed, Comrade Soth. I have noticed that. Compared with the French, they are harder to get to know but much less insincere. They never give the impression of racial superiority as the French do when they shrug and puff. Look how much larger the French embassy is than the British, even than the Americans, yet not one of them speaks our language.’ Bounphong Sunthorn sounded severe as he answered the elder man. What he thought but dared not say was that the Soviets had no Lao speaker in their embassy either and were, in fact, rabidly racist. Criticism of Big Brother, however much it was merited, was forbidden.
‘I hope they have an interesting time while they are in Sam Neua. The comrades there will make them welcome. The extra food for the group went up from here by AN-2 on Friday, not that the British will know that, but to send the biplane up twice in such a short time would have been an extravagance. Besides which, our Soviet comrades are touchy on the refuelling problem. Ah well.’ A pause, as though to make his mind up about something. ‘Come. We must be on our way back and get a message off that the British have left Vientiane at 10 o’clock as planned. These next few days are a good opportunity to try and teach your brother how to help us. It would be a point of honour to have two men like you in one family.’
As Bounphong Sunthorn only smiled to himself, Soth Petrasy did not notice it.
The journey was uneventful and an hour and twenty minutes later, after circling Luang Prabang, the aircraft landed and taxied to a halt. The noisy engine was switched off and the comparative silence was a welcome relief. The pilot took his helmet off, undid his harness, turned to the others, Said, ‘We’ve made it spot on. I suggest you go and get settled and leave me to finish off. It will take me quite some time to get refuelled, do the paperwork and put her to bed. Any idea what time we’re leaving tomorrow?’
By then Rance was on the ground and had opened the two doors of the plane so that the other passengers could climb down. He had slipped on the ring, feeling a surge of excitement as he had glanced at two LPF officials, come to welcome them.
‘Mr Cameron. May I suggest you take your time, just a shade longer than normal, in getting out. I’ll go and introduce myself to those two as your spokesman and bring them over, if you agree.’
‘Right you are. Won’t take long, will it?’
‘No, sir. I’ll be right back with them.’
Rance walked over to the LPF group which was standing on the edge of the runway. A few paces away from them he stopped, made the wai salutation and introduced himself.
‘Sabai di, Tan. Sabai di, bor?’
Yes, they were well, they answered. He told them who he was and held out his right hand as he took a step nearer. His eyes were riveted on the one he had seen with a ring on the little finger of his right hand, without appearing to stare or be discourteous. He was, in fact, a shade nearer them than normal but so purposeful and genuine was he that no offence could be taken. ‘Are you Comrade Thong Damdouane?’ he asked. If so, he’ll be Ring D.
‘Yes, I am.’ Hands were clasped and, as Asian handshakes are more protracted than European ones generally, there was enough time for Rance’s to be tightly squeezed after Thong’s little finger had unobtrusively explored where the ring was, almost as though he had not believed the evidence of his eyes. ‘May I introduce my companion, the military commander of the Neutralisation Force?’
The second introduction was made and Rance suggested they walk over to the Beaver. By now Mr Cameron and Bill Rogers had emerged from the plane, stamped their cramped legs, tucked in their shirt, put their coat on, smoothed their hair and felt representational enough to do their duty. More introductions followed.
‘If possible, Excellency, we should like to accompany you in the aeroplane tomorrow,’ said the military commander. ‘It would not only be a pleasure but also a precaution in that it is not often such an aircraft flies over our territory and, in the eventuality of having to land other than in Nong Kang, we would be of as much benefit to you as any documentation you carry.’
‘H’m. What about the fuel stakes and weight, Anthony? Can you accommodate two more passengers and still have enough fuel for emergencies?’ the Ambassador asked.
‘I may have, sir. I want to check the diversionary strips once more as I was not able to get a clear enough answer in Vientiane. I don’t relish the idea of having to make for Hanoi or Vinh. Our answer would have to be back here or as far away as Sayaboury.’
‘All right, all right. I’ve got the idea.’ Mr Cameron tried to keep the edge out of his voice. It were almost as if the pilot was trying to read him a lesson. He turned to the two Lao. ‘If we can take you, we will. If we can’t, could one of you come along with us, leaving the other behind?’
It was time for the Lao to reflect. ‘Like you, Excellency, we will make up our minds tomorrow. We will both come prepared.’
Rance then said, ‘If either or both do come with us, please bring minimum luggage. We have hardly any ourselves but every bit extra soon adds up. We will do our sums. If two of you travel, one can sit in front with the pilot and use the second headset to talk to the air traffic controller. The other would sit at the back, next to me, with hardly any view but a comfortable bucket seat,’ and his glance fell momentarily on Thong as he finished speaking. It was obvious that the message was understood.
After the official welcome was over, the party, less the pilot, walked over to the entrance where two cars were parked, one the welcoming LPF delegation had come in and the other for the British. As there were two PL soldiers, driver and escort, in each vehicle, it was agreed that Rance should travel in the LPF car as it was the bigger. He had a Union Jack car flag with him that he affixed to the car in which the Ambassador was travelling then jumped into the other.
‘You speak our language well, Tan Colonen. Where did you learn it and how long have you been in our country?’ Thong spoke slowly and shyly. ‘It is not often we have foreigners who have such an aptitude.’
‘Oh, I learnt the basic requirements in London before coming out here and in the fifteen months I have been here I have taken every opportunity of studying and practising. Your accent is not unlike the one they use here but is not quite the same. Where are you from?’
‘I’m from Sam Neua province. In our zone, one of the problems that faces us is that, leaving accents out of it, we have over fifty different languages to contend with and many of those speakers do not know Lao so have to be taught. Here in Luang Prabang the two accents are not dissimilar so conversation is no problem.’
Talk was kept on this dull and mild topic until as they reached the town.
‘Where is your office? I would like to come and pay a return courtesy call on you some time if that is in order? I understand you are the senior political cadre in the area.’
‘Yes, I am. My office is …’ and he pointed to a turning off the main road as they drove by. ‘My companion, as the senior military commander, has his HQ off the back road that runs to the south of the town. The troops live under canvas.’
At their overnight hotel there was a short conference on the next day’s timings. It had been planned that the British group would arrive at Nong Kang airstrip at 1400 hours. That was when the reception committee, aircraft sentries and transport would be ready and waiting. ‘Meet tomorrow at noon at the aircraft?’ ‘All right, see you then,’ and the two cars drove off.
‘What did you talk about on the way here, Jason?’ Mr Cameron smilingly asked his DA who was folding up the flag with a far away look in his eyes.
‘Tribal dialects in their zone and the difficulties encountered in running an administration with over fifty languages.’
‘A similar problem with us in the UK these days,’ remarked the Ambassador, half to himself.
‘Leuam Sunthorn. We have called you here tonight for a special purpose. Before much longer, a year or two at the most, everything will be different. What is happening now is a passing phase, a page of history being turned. Do you want to live peaceably with your large family?’ Soth Petrasy’s silken tones were menacingly obvious. The question hung heavily.
Leuam stood before a table at which five comrades sat, one of them his younger brother. The other three were members of the Neutralisation Force. Ten pairs of eyes stared at the luckless Leuam, who licked his lips and nodded.
‘You are only the British Defence Attaché’s driver because we let you be. It is time you started really working for your living. From today you have joined our Cause. When we give the order, you will come over to us and operate from here. Until then we regard you as a front-line soldier in the enemy’s camp. You had better get used to the idea. Any time of the day or night we want something we think you can get for us, we will let you know.’
Leuam said nothing. He was not a great talker. ‘If Colonel Rance gets wind of this, you’re finished. Go.’
Shortly before noon the next day, 12 February, the four Britons and the two Lao met up at the airport. The pilot greeted them with the news that he was not entirely happy to take both Lao but the met forecast, at least for the first part of the journey, was fair with some haze but as there would be a tailwind until the air corridor jinked from east to east-north-east he was willing to try the hardest part of the flight which was take off out of Luang Prabang valley, 931 feet high. Anthony Crosland warned that he would not attempt to bring the two Lao back as the aircraft could not lift such a weight from the height of the Sam Neua area, 3346 feet. ‘What is your answer?’
The military commander was clearly unhappy about the situation when it was explained to him. He did not feel that it was right for one man to accompany the group and yet maybe two men were too heavy. Comrade Thong Damdouane, though, was made of sterner stuff and opted for going. It seemed as though an impasse had been reached. Rance then asked the pilot how much weight could he allow the two men, body and baggage. ‘Two hundred and twenty pounds only.’
‘Both of you are small and slight. If together you’re not more than a hundred kilos, we’ll take you. Go and weigh yourselves.’
They were just inside the limit, the military commander the heavier. Back at the plane, Rance looked hard at the pilot. ‘Anthony, the limit had not been breached. The military commander is the heavier so can balance up with you so should sit in front. That means the other man will sit behind with me. Our two will occupy the middle seats. The added advantage is that the military man can talk to the ground forces once their territory was being overflown.’
That was agreed and the two diplomats were checked into their seat belts by the pilot while Rance helped the military commander into the copilot’s seat, adjusted his harness for him and explained how he operated the headset. So that the other Lao could hear, he also explained how it operated and that only passengers could hear what was being said, not the outside world, but please to say as little as possible so that the pilot was not distracted.
Checks, contact with control, taxi to the edge of the strip, switch to tower, clearance for the 040º take-off, more taxiing, this time to the western end of the strip. ‘Tango Papa Charlie. Ready for take-off.’
‘Tango Papa Charlie. Clear for take-off.’
‘Roger. Rolling,’ and a long, long drive forward then, only just in time, the wheels left the ground and they were airborne. Both Crosland and Rance breathed a sigh of relief, but for different reasons.
Safe in the knowledge that they could not be overheard, Rance leant over to Thong’s headset and switched it on. Thong looked enquiringly at him, then ahead at the others, then back to Rance.
‘Don’t worry, Tan Thong. These two headsets are for us only. The others cannot hear us. Watch,’ and he called up the other four passengers by name. With no visible reaction, Thong relaxed. He turned to the Englishman and smiled.
‘So you are the one. You’ve been a long time coming but there’s time enough left. It was clever of you to fix this. I have been waiting to talk with you for some time. Now we’ve an ideal opportunity.’
‘I have had a long talk with the Chief Bonze. I have also got through to the King.’ That had unobtrusively occurred during the Presentation of Credentials of the present ambassador. ‘I have got contact to Bounphong Sunthorn, Le Dâng Khoã and Tâ Tran Quán …’
Thong interrupted him excitedly. ‘With Tâ Tran Quán, did you say? But surely he’s dead? Don’t tell me isn’t, that he’s still alive?’
‘Yes, he’s alive. He was wounded not far from Long Cheng, on 18 November, 1972, fifteen months ago. That was the day Mana disappeared.’ Mana – Perseverance. ‘So I know all of you. I call you the Four Rings.’
‘What wonderful news about Tâ. I’m so glad he’s still alive. Is he well? Where is he? Does he know about you? Please tell me.’
One of the hardest contortions to go through in the front seat of a Beaver is to turn round and see what is happening at the back. The harness prevents it for a start, the headset with its cable reduces easy movement and the passengers in this middle obscure what little there might be to look at in the unlikely event of a concerted effort being made. Also portholes rather than windows in the back make people sitting the two rear seats dim and difficult to see clearly. So it was in the security of the back of an aeroplane that Rance had the first long talk with any of the Four Rings.
‘You say you know the background to us four,’ continued Thong as he settled back in his seat. ‘What I want to do is try and formulate a plan, or rather a course of action, that can stand us in good stead when the opportunity arises, as arise it will. We four have been living our lives in hope, prisoners of hope you might say, waiting for a sign. We were taught where the sign would come from and today’s meeting is of the highest importance. It is through you that success or failure to our lifelong aim and ambition can be realised. Next year is crucial; BE 2518, AD 1975. Some time during that year, we four will be able to reap our vengeance on what we have suffered.’ His face took on a firm, fierce look as it suffused with anger, zeal and hatred, the opposite of the softer, calmer aspect presented under normal conditions. ‘None of us yet know how the chance will be presented but we firmly believe that, with your help, that chance will be recognised and taken. This will be hard for you but we are relying on you more than you realise. In fact, we may yet fail even with you but, without you, we have no chance whatsoever of success.’
Rance sat is a stunned daze. Never in a month of Sundays, a year of Sundays, a decade of the wretched days, had he ever imagined he was pivotal to any chances that the Four Rings might have. Help in some modest way, perhaps, but for everything to depend on him, a foreigner, a part-time diplomat, a soldier even though he had some knowledge of matters Asian and was anti-communist: I – one man.
‘How and what do you envisage? I accept you have put your trust in me but my resources are nil, my influence trivial and my contacts hemmed in with protocol.’
‘Who have you contact with? You’ve already given me a hint. You must have a number of people that none of us four have. If you can get a safe channel through to us we have our own ways and means. Not that we are members of the Politburo, we’re still too young for that. Who are your contacts?’
The plane droned steadily on. The two civilians had entered their own dream world of time passing. The pilot was completely engulfed in concentrating on flying and navigation. He had to make two changes of direction, each having recognised a place on the ground before course correction. His companion, initially having taken much interest in the layout of the dial panel, was now soporifically slouching in his seat.
‘My contacts are the Royal Lao Army Generals and the Military Region commanders, the Defence Minister, along with his future wife and her sister, through to the King’s brother and the King himself; the Chief Bonze, through Leuam Sunthorn; the other Attachés though which of them I trust is another matter – and of courses my own people.’
‘Indeed, that is an impressive list. When you contact the King, what is your message? What can you tell him others can’t?’
‘It’s not so much a question of what I can tell him that others can’t but the perspective in which I tell it, the scenario I build into it and the conclusions I can draw from it. As you know, it is almost impossible to keep secrets in Laos. Let the Communists get a whiff of a plan and they counter it. Let the toadies and the robber barons get a whiff of it and they’re twisting it for their own means. Say too much and you’re taken for a meddler, too little and your point doesn’t get across. Then there’s the age-old philosophy among Asians: behave well to your enemies of today as they may be your friends of tomorrow and be wary of your friends of today as they may be your enemies of tomorrow. Bend and you survive: break and you die.’
‘So where does this leave us?’
‘If a thing is worth dying for, of course you can afford to be rigid. But if a thing is worth living for, maybe you can’t afford to be rigid.’
‘And in this connection, how do you see your relationship with the King? Will he take a message? Anyway, what is your message?’
Rance told Thong Damdouane the thread of what he had told the King’s brother, wife and the Chief Bonze in the wat, then added. ‘It is my firm belief therefore that were the King to be crowned, there is a chance for a happy-go-lucky Laotian Laos, a gain for mankind in itself, let alone to the other countries of the region. And yet, I fear that the Communists will thwart him and the country thereby be doomed for at least another generation, probably longer.’
‘You will already know that every year there is a date set by the Vientiane side for the coronation, regardless of any other consideration. I fear the situation will be seen as not ready enough in 1974: by 1975 the 30-year wait for us could coincide with just that. But, however right you are, and I believe you are right, it will be a race against time. The odds are against him and you with the task. Nevertheless, if it could, somehow, be joined to our endeavour, double purpose will be served.’
The plane titled its starboard wing slightly as the first course correction was made. ‘But I am worried, Tan Colonen, as I think you know we all are, about Mana, the Thai, who has known about us since the killings in Ban Liet. You may not have heard: he had been groomed as a long-term agent and was being run by Office 95. He had come into contact with Le Dâng Khoã in South Vietnam and later in Malaysia. Office 95 wants to use him, wants to debrief him not only in what he has discovered about the Thais, the Lao Irregulars, the Americans but chiefly because, somehow or other, our bosses have wind of us. I’ve heard a codename I don’t understand – Four Days – but our bosses don’t know who, where, how many or what we are but something that took place in South Vietnam between Le Dâng Khoã and Mana has made them suspicious. They believe Mana can provide the clues to their suspicions. Mana, as you know, went over to them. Tâ Tran Quán’s military commander found him lying in a pool of blood with a head wound. I think Mana tried to kill Tâ Tran Quán. Tâ’s body was never found as the operation was mounted just to bring Mana over and the counter-attack that was mounted by the Thais, presumably because Mana gave them the slip, was too fierce to allow a search.’
‘But hasn’t Mana told Office 95 and others also all he knows?’
‘No. The wound to his head has badly affected his memory. Most of the time he only remembers odd incidents since his childhood. They’ve had a neurologist to see him and who has told them to wait. Events elsewhere in Indo-China are going well for them, that’s the Communists I am talking about, except that the Americans in Cambodia with their concentrated bombing. No, they are waiting for Mana to remember who he is. He believes he is Le Dâng Khoã. They dare not bring the real Le Dâng Khoã yet awhile as they fear that the shock may be too much for him – not that they won’t try if all else fails. Nobody knows how long his condition will last. What worries me is how much he’ll remember when eventually he comes round and recalls who he is.’
Then Rance had a brainwave. Casually he asked if Thong knew where Mana was. Yes, at a Pathet Lao training camp at Ban Ban, a name meaning ‘House Village’ so easy to remember. Is he heavily guarded? No, and he is well looked after. There was a small military hospital there and some defence troops. Would rescue be possible? Well, would it? Just, just possible with a special man I know. Who is he? Tâ Tran Quán.
After the second correction for course, the haze thinned and the scenery became more majestic as the little-seen hinterland of northeast Laos came into view. Rance saw an ugly patch of sere ground, acres across, victim of a napalm attack. He saw limestone cliffs and precipices ahead. Glancing at his watch, he saw they must be near their destination. Thong once more spoke into the rigged headset.
‘We’re not far away. It will be difficult for us to have so much privacy again. I like your idea about Mana. It won’t be easy but Tâ Tran Quán is the man for the job. Tell him from me when you next meet him. When I last heard, and this was recently, Mana had only just been moved to the hospital at Ban Ban. You probably know it is on the junctions of Routes 6 and 7. It’s not so remote. The hospital is not in a cave, like the one at Sam Neua, which will make it easier for Tâ. Mana is allowed to walk around as the brain specialist thinks that contact with soldiers might jog his memory.
‘When we’re on the ground again, we’ll have to revert to officialdom. You understand. I have heard how you play your role in Vientiane and no one is any the wiser. Bounphong’s brother, Leuam, will be under pressure, if I know how their minds work, either to defect or to spy on you. There’ll be more pressure still after Liberation Day. Plans are being laid for a cultural revolution – the masses’ wish being made known to the government without the masses realising they’re being manipulated. Don’t know how I’ve stuck it for so long. Can’t give it up now. No way. Look, before we separate, I want you to be under no illusion of how grateful we are or how dangerous it is.’
And with that cold comfort, Rance felt that anything he said would be inadequate. So he just wished Thong good luck and stared moodily out the porthole as they came in to land at the Sam Neua stronghold.
After being official for three days and not achieving much the British delegation returned. Back in Vientiane, before the weekend, Rance wrote as full a report as he could for London. Looking back at the time spent in the Sam Neua area, it was more of impressions and feelings than hard, usable, military intelligence. Many of the questions he had asked himself remained unanswered as he feared would be the case. They, the visitors, had been circumscribed as to their movements. It was more an object lesson in survival than anything else. Nevertheless, even without the conversation in the aircraft, it was an achievement, something to add to the sum of his knowledge. But with the conversation in the aircraft, it was the breakthrough they had been waiting for. Rance discussed it with Gordon Parks.
‘So, to recapitulate: all Four Rings are now known to us and I to them. Each one is more or less contactable but even limited access is never easy to come by. They are not near enough the top echelon to influence policy nor so junior as to be without influence. Then there’s Mana. If we could neutralise, eliminate or dispose of him there is much less risk. He is in the hospital at Ban Ban training camp.’ He got up to look at the map. ‘It’s well inside their zone. See Bouam Long? Make a note of the grid reference – UG 2628. That’s the enclave. Look east. See Route 67? Follow that down. Make another note: UG 4971. That’s Ban Ban. It strikes me,’ continued Rance as he returned to his chair, ‘that we ought to take advantage of the enclave. It is the nearest launching pad for Ban Ban. Any other overland route is a long, long hike. Thinking it over out loud, how many do we need to the party? Is this where Charlie comes in? Somehow I feel not. There are the ralliers who have drifted in from the other side over the years. I’d have to learn more about them before we could find suitable men from amongst them. To use them we would have to put pressure on the Minister or the Commander-in-Chief and they would want to know the whole story. No mileage in that.’
‘I think I could get the Americans to lean on GHQ and lend us Tâ Tran Quán, Ring C, – the one that was captured. But he cannot go by himself. He’d have to keep hidden by day and would need considerable help. Besides, how many people think he is dead? You’ll have to go and talk to him, Jason, and see what he thinks. Whatever the difficulties to be overcome there’ll be nothing we can’t sort out. We can’t just sit back and let it work itself out.’
‘Gordon, I’ll talk to him but I must do it by myself. He is a man who knows enough Lao to cope although I didn’t realise that at our first meeting. However, to get him out from wherever he is might need some ingenuity. His wounds must have healed by now. How about an American doctor examining him, say in the Silver City medical centre, with a view to passing him fit for active duty? Can I leave details with you?’
Next Monday morning the long telegram that John Chambers read contained a preçis of the aeroplane conversation, an allusion to the LPF answers to the question of the coronation and an outline of how the British DA suggested Mana be recovered. He contacted Bill Hodges and Maurice Burke, CIA representative in London, who, in turn, contacted Ed Murray, the CIA man in Bangkok. General Law was not brought into the matter: it was felt that any required denial would be more easily believed if it were completely genuine. It was decided that, under the circumstances, Head of Station, Vientiane, needed to be alerted, through London if not through Langley, to give his British counterpart carte blanche with Tâ Tran Quán. A bit of bait might have to be offered such as the USA offering political asylum for the man in question and a speeding up of quota restrictions for one or two others to immigrate also to be offered at the same time. No real difficulty need be expected.
Those at the meeting were obviously curious as to details but wisely refrained from suggesting any course that might prevent them from developing at their own speed. There was an air of suppressed expectancy that made all four men cheerful.
Just as the British compiled a report about their visit to Sam Neua, so did those Lao officials concerned compile one about the British and put on record those aspects of the discussions that would be of particular interest to Officer 95, Hanoi, Beijing and Moscow. They noted that the English were unswayed about some of the reports of right-wing behaviour in Vientiane, that the hospital visit had to be aborted – the report did not include the reason, namely that the Cuban doctors would have been seen at work – that the English were taken to the shop and on the way the DA had stopped to talk to some soldiers. The soldiers had been closely questioned afterwards and had not deviated from their original version that the Englishman asked them if they were married and how long they had been in uniform; that the English had good appetites, were not highly motivated politically, were victims of imperialist propaganda in that they raised the point of there being foreign fraternal troops in the country, that they alleged they were not under the influence of the imperialist Americans but offered no details about the feudalist troops from Thailand and the imperialist Americans posing as Assistant Attachés, that culturally they were well motivated. They finished up with a character assessment of each one: the Ambassador was sensible though pro-American yet independently minded to a degree but reasonable; the First Secretary was earnest, had done much research into the origins of the present situation which made him hard-working but probably not an academic; the pilot was a non-entity. That left the enigma, the Attaché. Part of the opinion mooted at the after-visit conference thought him devious, deep and dangerous, one to be watched and thwarted. No real reason could be given for such thoughts and certainly the tapes from the caves had only revealed comments about how cold it was – so the British had, to an extent, been punished – but from midday on the second day hardly anything had been said by the British. Curious, almost as though they had found out about the bugs: in fact Rance had silently pointed out their possibility. The other school of thought admitted he was deep but felt he was neither devious nor dangerous. Indeed, probably the opposite. He was sincere, fair and flexible and should be cultivated so as to help the image of the emergent government whenever it was formed by his understanding of some of its problems. He was neutral, disinterested, did not meddle nor offer gratuitous advice. He should be left alone. This point of view was accepted. Its main proponent was Thong Damdouane
‘Jason,’ said Gordon Parks, ‘I have arranged for you to see Tâ Tran Quán on Monday next, the 25th, at 10 o’clock. Our American friends have fixed a “return to fitness” medical examination. He will be taken to the Silver City medical centre in an ambulance and he will have a thorough medical check. After that’s over you’ll be taken in to see him. Have as long as you like. The way they’ll play him is, unless you specify to the contrary, he won’t know you’re there. His Tai Dam Major will be available if, and only if, you want him. I gather he is reliable.’
‘That sounds just the hammer. At the hospital who shall I contact?’
‘Go to the waiting room and you’ll be called. When you’ve finished with him, tell me what emerged and I’ll steer it thereon.’
At the hospital, a white-coated man invited Rance to follow him up a passage to a door which he opened for him, revealing a simply furnished office containing a table and two easy chairs in front of a normal desk and its chair. ‘Ring the bell when you’ve finished,’ he said and left. Rance made his way over to greet the other man sitting in one of the chairs. They appraised each other cordially.
It was several months since they had last met. Whilst Rance’s life had been active, Tâ’s had been restricted by his wound and by the constraints on his freedom. It was not obvious that he had fully recovered although as he arose to welcome Rance, there was no hesitation in his movements.
‘How are you, Tan Tâ?’ he asked, using the Lao for ‘mister’, not the Vietnamese Ông. ‘You certainly look much better. Are you fully recovered?’
‘Yes. I have indeed recovered from the wounds, both in my leg and chest, but my enforced sedentary life hasn’t made me actively fit. The doctors have been giving me an examination for the last two hours although they had not taken much notice of me over the last six months.’
‘We’ll talk about your health in a moment. You presumably want to know why I am here today and why you have been brought here. What have they told you?’
‘That it was time for a USA-based check. I gather there is some sort of scheme that allows people like me to be resettled in the USA with a view to being granted American citizenship. I didn’t say I wasn’t interested in American citizenship. Oh, I know they mean it kindly, and I could be of use to them, but I have my life’s work to complete before I think of such things.’
‘I can give you some details that the others cannot. Ready? Point one: Bounphong Sunthorn and Le Dâng Khoã are here in Vientiane. I have managed to talk with both of them and am waiting until they can make the next move. Point two: I have had a long conversation with Thong Damdouane, who is the Political Commissar in Luang Prabang. I travelled with him to Sam Neua where I’ve just come from. Incidentally, he sent you the most cordial greetings. Point three: they are now aware that I know you, you know me, know where you are, know how you are and are overjoyed you are well. Pont four: Mana in now in the PL camp in Ban Ban, recuperating after the head wound he got when he went over to the Communists, the same day that you were wounded. You must tell me about that later, there’s obviously a connection that I’m unaware of. Mana has lost his memory, thinks he is Le Dâng Khoã and was originally taken to a hospital not so far from Office 95. He has been visited and examined by an eminent neurologist and is now convalescing in Ban Ban. The idea is to treat him kindly, keep him near soldiers and hope he recovers his memory that way. Point five: our other three friends are most worried that Mana will regain his memory and jeopardise whatever chances there are for you four, yes, you included, to carry out your life’s ambition. This they believe will be next year by when the Vietnam war will be over, although western opinion doesn’t go along with that, and that conditions will be ripe for the Communists to gain mastery over Laos for the next generation unless something drastic is done. It is also my contention that the LPF are only paying lip service to the idea of retaining a King and that His Majesty, King Savang Vatthana, should be crowned before then. Are you following me?’
Tâ’s large eyes had been unblinkingly fixed on Rance, almost in a thousand-yard stare. He lifted his palms about an inch and a half from his knees indicating acceptance but said nothing. ‘So we come to point six,’ continued Rance, ticking if off on his fingers. ‘Mana has got to be taken away from Ban Ban just as soon as that can be arranged and brought, initially, to Vientiane for interrogation and safe keeping. And point seven is that you are the best man to entice him away so that others can ensure he doesn’t escape. Before I go any further, I think it only fair to give you point eight and that is Thong says that the Nga Sô Lựự is suspicious of what you Four Rings, as I call you, are doing. He has heard something about Four Days. He doesn’t know you exist as such, he doesn’t know who you are or even if you are. Merely that there is something that he and possibly others higher up still can’t put their fingers on. Were Mana to regain his memory then you four are finished.’
He paused to let his long list sink in. Tâ Tran Quán nodded but said nothing.
Rance continued: ‘Quite why Mana hasn’t given the game away yet, I don’t know. Maybe none of us ever will. Right now that doesn’t matter. What does matter is that he’s got to be retrieved as soon as possible. There is one more point, which I’ll make number nine: I gather that Office 95 and the Central Committee are not convinced you’re dead, if only because your body was never recovered. It is that fact that has made me believe that you are the one with the best chance of success. With travel documents in a forged name, you too could pretend that you had lost your memory were it ever to come to the crunch that indeed it is you and you could assume the identification for real if, as Thong himself believes, Office 95’s records are ever to show that you are dead. So, using this new name and your natural authority, you’d be able to gain access at Ban Ban hospital and do what is needed to be done before contact with Sam Neua or Office 95 was made. We can talk about who will go with you later. We would launch you from Bouam Long. If you like I would go as far as the enclave with you. You would have to travel dressed as a civilian and carry Pathet Lao uniform with you. So would your companions, I expect.’
Tâ Tran Quán’s eyes had not left the speaker’s face during this long exposition. He looked away now and considered the proposition. Never a coward, never one to shirk a task, this would not be one he’d have chosen himself for. Yet it was clear from the English Colonel’s talk that he had already been picked as the key man. In that case, yes, of course he’d do it. ‘Do you really want Mana brought back alive?’
‘Dead men don’t talk and, always provided no permanent damage has been done to his brain, the government and its allies could use him as a source of great value to say nothing of his own government wanting him back on spying charges. The background to personalities and events could forestall more people like him from causing disruption to the Free World. Yes, alive is the answer, with killing him only as a last resort. If it were you or he to die, for instances, the choice is obvious.’
‘I’ll need a travel document made out in a name other than mine. Similar documents will be needed for as many as go with me. I think it best if we go as a group of soldiers returning from a mission. I can cover that reasonably well. I’ll need to be briefed on the current situation. Dependent on that, I’ll make my cover plan. Money. It would be nice to have some Pathet Lao kip on me but money is not so much of a problem as you might think. Barter is widely practised. We ought to go armed, preferably with Kalashnikovs, Shpagins or Sudayevs, not American type carbines. I’ll take a pistol as I’ll be a political man. A Tokarev or a Makarev, I don’t mind which, depending on the type of ammunition you can get. Let me think this out for a few days. For planning purposes, let us say I’ll need six people. An overall commander who knows the area and is able to arrange a snatch: of the other five, a protection group consisting of a noncom and four soldiers to carry Mana on a stretcher if it comes to that. Where’ll you get my companions from? They’ll have to be strong and completely trustworthy. Cover story? As I said, let me think on this for a bit. It’s all so sudden.’
‘What happened at Skyline Ridge above Long Cheng on the Saturday, 18 November, 1972?’
‘It dates back to when the Thai Black Cobra Division, or was it the Queen’s Division? was in South Vietnam. I had infiltrated South Vietnamese Intelligence. By various ways and means, I learnt about a certain Thai; you can guess it was Mana, whom I’d first set eyes on when still a boy at Ban Liet, although I couldn’t be sure it was the same person even though I did have a photo of him. I had not seen him for such a long time. Simple desertions are simple but this wasn’t a simple one. Sorry, I’m not telling this story well. This Thai was clearly up to something he should not have been as an ordinary regimental officer. I put out feelers to contact him and found out that he had something of great importance. By then I suspected it might just be the boy I’d known when I was a boy but I couldn’t be sure. Do you understand me now?’
It was Rance’s turn to nod, not completely understanding what Tâ was getting at but not wishing to break the thread of a complicated story. ‘He was a long-term North Vietnamese spy and I gave him the impression, not by direct contact, that I was in the same game. He wanted to get across and report to his bosses but in the chaos and difficulties of war, it was decided that transfer to the north that way was dodgy. He had come across Le Dâng Khoã and had surmised something wasn’t as he thought it ought to be. Might even have been Le Dâng Khoã’s ring or the mark on his finger.’ Tâ pointed to his own as he spoke. ‘I got hold of my people in the north, took a long time as I was officially in the southern army, ARVN. By the time I got my message back, the Thai had received forewarning of return to Thailand and, apart from a course of instruction, a posting to the Thai Unity Forces. As I was his contact, we only met once at night so I never got a really good view of him. I was told to disappear from that job – there was someone else who could look after the post I had had. He was not slanted as I was so I dropped a hint in the right quarters and got him removed. Shot later as a spy! I was told to reappear, after a time, with 335 Regiment. It was felt that, as I had had the contact with Mana in South Vietnam, I should try and get him across to the north after his course of instruction and posting to Laos. There was a risk that he would go to Pakse or to Xieng Lom but 335 was central enough for him to make plans to defect through them. You can guess the rest, in fact you know more about some of it that do I. By one of these coincidences, Mana Varamit and Le Dâng Khoã went to Malaysia where you were the Commandant of the school that ran the training both happened to be sent on. Mana and Le Dâng Khoã had a quarrel, yes? That much I heard. What an extraordinary coincidence, really. First Mana and me and Le Dâng Khoã in South Vietnam, then the two of them in Malaysia. But to get back to November 1972. By then Mana must have realised who I was or might be. I had an inkling, more than an inkling, from reports from Long Cheng that my man was Mana. I had a desperate plan that I could kill him before he came over, or as he came over, and then surrendering. I knew the dangers but I am under a special oath and I felt this was one occasion where my life was worth forfeit. Just before I managed to get away to a flank, when a Jet Ranger was circling around above us and the RLAF T-28s were bombing and strafing us, I was reminded that Mana might see my ring and recognise me too soon. So I decided to take no chances. Not that I knew for sure he knew who I was. Unless he saw or felt the ring when we jumped into a trench to avoid the T-28s. On the spur of the moment I slipped my ring off and swallowed it. Only place to hide it and keep it. If you monitor yourself you should pick it up later. Being in prison and in hospital, the chances are you yourself can get it back. It is not the sort of thing most people would be suspected of doing.’
It was now Jason’s turn to fill in details: ‘Another coincidence is that I was circling in that Jet Ranger on the day you came over! I also learnt that Mana’s name in the Thai Unity Forces is Chok Di. But let me recapitulate: you and Le Dâng Khoã were both in South Vietnam up to no good and so was Mana. He met Le Dâng Khoã and thought he was up to no good. Could even have thought it was one of the four boys from Ban Liet. He also thought the same of you, probably. That was the information he wanted to get back to the Politburo or Office 95. The course of instruction in Malaysia was a bonus but the Thai Unity Force posting was cleverly contrived. Office 95 was a bit greedy so allowed him to get to them via Thailand. If the planners had insisted on his reaching them direct from the south he could have done it. It was only because Office 95 was that bit too greedy that I ever came into it. Correct?’
‘Yes. If you reconstruct it in that light, that is correct. But had it not been like that, you would never have come into our lives. Office 95’s greed is a good omen for us.’
There was a long silence as Rance digested what had been revealed to him. He conjured up memories of the initial jungle scene, then with Princess Golden Fairy, the first meeting with Bounphong … Tâ waited patiently. Rance dragged himself back to the present with a wrench.
‘You have been talking as though you were dead set on going on this venture. Will your health stand it?’
‘After the exhaustive medical examination I’ve just had, I’m not the person to ask! Get the report from the doctor. Personally I feel fit and that is what matters. This talk we’ve been having has whetted my appetite.’
‘Right you are! I have to go to Luang Prabang for a wedding tomorrow or the next day. I’ll arrange for your return now and see what can be done to fix you up correctly so that this mission has as good a chance of success as humanly possible. I’d like to see it start within ten days at the latest. Even if you don’t see me again during this phase, it won’t be lack of interest, I can assure you, just expediency. May I wish you the very, very best of luck. Oh yes. Any choice of another name?’
Tâ Tran Quán thought for a minute and then said, ‘Tanh Bên Lòng.’
‘Tanh Bên Lòng? Does it have any significance?’
‘Yes. It is a nickname I am fond of.’
Rance got up and shook hands then, going over to the door, rang the bell and almost immediately was ushered away by the doctor. As he was shutting the door he put his head round and asked what Tanh Ben Long meant.
‘It is the Vietnamese for ‘Perseverance’.’
‘So it was a successful meeting? Tell me every little bit of it. Leave nothing out. There may be things that were better done by me than by you and even better still by others than by me.’
In the greatest detail, Rance recapitulated what he and Tâ Tran Quán had discussed. Gordon Parks made meticulous notes. ‘As I see it, I have to work fast. We may be too late, of course, but that is a risk we’ll have to take. I wonder if there is any merit in your going to Bouam Long, except as an Attaché, invited by General Vang Pao, so escorted by the CIA as it is still their sole concern. In might, in fact, be a good wheeze as your presence could take the attention off the other activity. Of course, sentries, observation posts and patrols will have to be alerted as well as having to find out if there are any minefields. I think a good ploy would be to say we’ve heard that one of the captured American flyers is reported to be held in Ban Ban or is expected to be passing through. You won’t have forgotten that fellow who baled out when he ran out of fuel after the cease-fire.’ Rance indeed did remember it. It was one of the points the American embassy had asked the British delegation to try and find out when there were in Sam Neua. ‘Although everyone is pretty sure that this guy is in Sam Neua, there’s no proof. He was captured quite close to Ban Ban. What’s your immediate programme?’
‘Tomorrow, Tuesday 26, fly up to Luang Prabang for the wedding of the Defence Minister to Princess Jasmine. 27 and 28, Wednesday and Thursday, bun fights and bean feasts and, fingers crossed, I’ll be back down here on the Friday or Saturday.’
Only towards the end of the wedding ceremony, as the crowd was thinning out, did Jason manage to talk to Golden Fairy, Inkham Hatsady, his first Lao teacher, out from London, till then fully involved with the proceedings. She had taken off her ceremonial gear and was wearing normal Lao clothes. ‘Oh, Jason, Jason. How lovely to see you again. I’ve heard so much about you. You are renowned and respected, Colonel Three Eyes,’ and she laughed delightedly. ‘I knew I had a good pupil but never dreamt how good.’
He answered banter with banter. ‘And you, Tu Nong, you look as beautiful as ever, more so in your Lao clothes and in your own royal capital. It is lovely, lovely to see you again.’
‘I have been worried, Jason, about that business.’ She lowered her voice. ‘The ring. What happened?’ Before he had time to make up his mind what to tell her, she said, ‘Oh bother. I must go now. Look, this evening. We’ll have much more time to talk. I want to hear everything. Everything, you understand?’
‘Just before you go, Inkham, I must ask you one thing. This could be vital. You have met your uncle, His Majesty? You will meet him again soon? Could you pass a message through your father to him? Don’t look like that,’ he implored. ‘I mean it. I most sincerely request you somehow to pass this to His Majesty from me – “Next year it may be too late.” Got it? Thank you a thousand times. And if humanly possible, could you tell me the reaction when we meet later on this evening? That, too, is important.’
The guests assembled at 7 p.m. in the same place. Princess Golden Fairy came up to Rance, who was dressed in his black regimental mess kit. ‘Oh, you look so handsome,’ she trilled. She then became serious. ‘Come with me, Jason. Stay close!’
They went through a gate at the back of the garden, unseen by anyone, so they thought. Down an ally, across the main road and in at the palace gates. The sentries did not try to stop them. They walked towards the palace but turned off before they reached the throne room and the large room where he had waited before being presented. They skirted the building and, on the far side, came to a door. She opened it. ‘Wait here.’
Two minutes later, she reappeared and led him in. ‘Don’t be afraid. Use French or common Lao though French might be better.’
Down a corridor and, stopping outside a door, she nodded to the palace guard on duty. The guard knocked softly on the door. A voice bade them enter. There, on a chair at a desk, sat His Majesty, the King. Princess Golden Fairy curtsied and Rance, who had his hat in his hand, bowed from the waist, as the King, having risen from his chair, came over. Rance straightened and looked into the calm, steady, peaceful face. They shook hands.
‘Come along and sit down. It is not often that a meeting like this can be arranged. Let us make the most of it. Tell me your message in full.’
His Majesty was a good listener and nodded gravely during Rance’s dissertation as each point was made. There was no one else in the room. Princess Golden Fairy listened fascinated as Rance rehearsed the salient points concerning the Four Rings and Mana’s treachery. ‘So you see, Your Majesty,’ Rance wound up, ‘every omen points to next year, the Year of the Tiger, as being the last chance. The following year, the Year of the Hare, may well be too late.’
The King viewed Rance, earnest and dedicated, with a grave look. If only more of my subjects were as perspicacious and thorough in what they did and believed as this Englishman in front of me.
‘Colonel. I sincerely thank you for the concern you have shown for me and the risks I know you are taking. You have met and talked with the Chief Bonze, my brother and sister-in-law. They are convinced that you are correct. Nevertheless, I, as both Head of State and of the Buddhist Church, must stand by the tenets of my faith. For, if I deviate from them, how can I keep them? Indeed some omens do point to the Year of the Hare for my coronation but other pointers in the astrological calendar show omens of dread. Take but one example: the wedding today, admirable from so many points of view, not the least being the uniting of the Houses of Luang Prabang and of Champassak after many, many years of estrangement, did not take place during the time it should have. Instead, it being the eleventh month of Mina, I cannot attend it, so it cannot be held here. These matters are beyond you, dear Colonel. You look worried, disappointed, frustrated. That is how I feel. I either stick to what I stand for or I don’t. You understand that. Fain would I waste your time explaining why: the Theung Sok, the Suthin, the Somphut Athit, the Ken … look, you who know so much and whom I admire, are lost already! Believe me, Colonel, the crux of the matter you dilate upon, lies solely and heavily on my shoulders.’
As he heard what the King was saying, the bottom fell out of Rance’s world. Ever since that far-off day in the office of General Sir David Law he had had it firmly in his mind that the only way to save Laos from the Communists was by getting the King crowned. It was an impossible task, almost an impertinence, to think he could in any way influence the course of events to that extent. Asia was too subtle and too old for an upstart like him ever to affect its history. He looked at the King and rose to leave, regardless of the protocol for such occasions.
‘Sire. I thank you for being so graciously considerate. I never wanted to intrude on matters that were not mine. I hope I do not have the name of a meddler.’ He slipped his hand into the breast pocket of his black monkey-jacket and produced the ring. ‘But this has come across my path and its influence enmeshed me.’
He put the ring back in his pocket and glanced at the King, who was watching him with compassion and pity. ‘You, who like our proverbs, make note of this one: “When one acts, one should act with all one’s heart and soul and not turn round even if the loved one tickles the ribs a thousand times”. Go now. Put me out of your mind. You have done enough for me already. Take my niece and go back to the party. Before the tickling of ribs tonight, they have to cut their wedding cake.’ He glanced at a clock on the wall. ‘It is due to be cut in ten minutes’ time.’
Outside, in the dark, on their way back to the party, Inkham turned to Rance and asked, in a low voice, ‘Is it as bad that?’
‘I’m afraid so. Maybe even worse.’
‘But, surely, if it is as bad as you say, why aren’t the others doing anything about it? Why are we left on our own?’
Rance thought of the many, many sacrifices that the Free World had made since the end of the war: Lord knows what blood and treasure had been spent, and in good measure, by a number of governments who also hated Communism. And yet how could she say that the others were doing nothing? He felt too tired and dispirited to argue any more, so he simply said, ‘Because too many people are too comfortable.’
He then turned and, before she could resist, took her in his arms and kissed her, tenderly at first, then with a mounting hunger. She gasped but responded as though, that also, had been her wish from a long time past.
They finally separated. ‘Jason. Thank you. It’s done you good, also!’
‘Come,’ he said, taking her by the hand. ‘Let’s go and have a piece of somebody else’s wedding cake.’
The combined ‘Brass’ in London were saddened but not surprised at the failure of ‘Operation Stealth’ ‘We never really expected it to work but it was amazing just far Colonel Rance did manage to get,’ was the general verdict.
‘However, our efforts don’t end there. I will now work on the Attaché turning his attention to … what shall we call it this time?’ General Sir David Law thought for a moment. ‘Got it: “Operation Four Rings”.’