“Well, say something,” I urged him. “What would you do in my place?”
“Turn in my uniform and open a marriage bureau, Hans.”
He chuckled. “You should ask Xuey what he thinks of going to Muong Son.”
“I should never have brought the girls along.”
“Nonsense!” said he. “The boys never did so well before, Hans. They are marching better—no one dares to bitch while the girls keep going without a complaint—and they are fighting better because they know we have to protect our angels—and you know it too.”
“All right. You’ve convinced me. Now let’s hear from Xuey about the affair.”
The little Indochinese listened to my explanation intently. I was truly embarrassed for requesting his services in such a nonmilitary and unimportant private affair. But Xuey’s face showed no emotion whatsoever—neither approval nor disapproval. “I think I can manage it,” was his comment. “Do you want me to go right now?” I nodded. He asked me to write a short note to the priest, which I did, imploring him to trust Ghia Xuey, for I could not disclose the place where he was to come.
Two days later Xuey returned alone. “The priest is dead,” he reported. “The Viet Minh shot him seven months ago. I got this book from an old servant of his.”
From under his shirt he pulled a small leather-bound Bible and placed it on my cot. “I am sorry that I could not oblige Lieutenant Schulze.”
“Thank you, Xuey, all the same.”
He bowed and withdrew. I sat for a while, thinking of what to do now. Erich was right; none of us knew whether we had a future. He came in shortly afterwards, hand in hand with Suoi. He had already spoken to Xuey and looked very disappointed. I motioned them to sit down. - “What do we do now?” Erich asked.
I reached for the Bible and opened it at random. It was the first time in my adult life that I had held a Bible in my hands. “Well, at least we have a Bible,” I stated, trying to smile. “Even a ship’s captain must have a Bible if he wants to perform a marriage ceremony.”
Schulze’s eyes lit up. “Will you do it then?”
“As a very temporary arrangement, Erich. I will do it mainly for Suoi’s sake. But it won’t be legal.”
“Who cares!” he exclaimed. “We will know that we are married and God will know it too.”
“God might know it but He won’t give you a marriage certificate!” Suoi blushed and lowered her face. “Suoi,” I spoke to her, “Do you understand that I cannot marry you legally and that if 1 do so, you will be married only in our hearts and in our eyes, but not in the eyes of the world?”
“Oui, I know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“Do you want me to do it?”
“Oui, Hans. I want you to do it.”
The news spread through the camp like wildfire. And there, out in the wilderness, Sergeant Krebitz’s men erected a small altar, covered with a tarpaulin sheet and decked with flowers; on it Riedl placed a wooden crucifix which he had carved the day before, expecting the priest. I placed the open Bible in front of the cross. Noy and the girls came, each carrying a single flower which they tucked gently into Suoi’s hair, kissing her on both cheeks. The troops gathered around the makeshift shrine, everyone freshly shaved and wearing a clean shirt. They stood in solemn silence and were deeply touched when Erich and Suoi appeared, Erich with a stance of determination but Suoi blushing and with eyes averted. I motioned them to the altar and said, “Place your hands on the Holy Bible.”
Obediently they extended their hands, with Erich’s hand resting lightly on hers. Strange as it may be, I saw my men, the rugged, tough fighters, who believed in only one power—that of the gun—now standing overawed before an invisible, spiritual force, no one daring to move or to do as much as clear the throat.
“Now, with your hands on the Bible, you shall say aloud, Erich and Suoi, that. you will accept each other as man and wife,” I said.
“I do!” they whispered.
“For better or worse.”
“For better or worse.”
“Until death do us part.”
“Until death do us part.”
It was all I could remember.
I said to them, “I am not a servant of God. I cannot proclaim you man and wife in the name of God. I can speak only for us. We do accept and respect your union and we shall regard you as man and wife. And I believe that if there is a God, He, too, will accept your covenant.”
I embraced them both. One after another the troops came to congratulate and to express their good wishes. Everyone was touched. Even Eisner was clearing his throat much too often.
“Blast me,” he remarked, “if this was not the holiest of all the weddings I ever saw.”
He hugged Schulze and kissed him and then Suoi on the forehead.
“Still I suggest that you see one of God’s emissaries when we get back to Hanoi. While we take care of the worldly authority,” I added jokingly.
Four days later we were on the march again.
In the jungle the battalion was perfectly safe and could make better progress than on the roads or trails where we had to be on the alert for traps and enemy troops. We could, however, safely use remote paths, which sometimes crisscrossed the Viet Minh-controlled areas, far from the French garrisons. The chance of encountering enemy forces in the forest was minimal. In areas under guerrilla control the guerrillas no longer camped in the hills but in the villages, and they moved openly on the roads, dispersing only when reconnaissance planes happened to fly by. In districts from which the Legion had been expelled or had withdrawn for tactical reasons, the rules of the game changed; the Viet Minh occupied the settlements and the abandoned French stockades. Then our battalion assumed the role of the guerrillas with great success. We penetrated into areas which were out of reach for the regular army.
It was my intention to bypass Muong Son ten miles to the northwest The same evening our trailblazers hit a wide jungle path that seemed to run in approximately the right direction. After a brief survey, Xuey announced that the path had not been used for several weeks, and that it was safe. We proceeded openly and at a good rate, spending the nights in the woods, marching from dawn to about eleven o’clock, then again when the midday heat abated. Late in the afternoon of the third day after leaving our jungle camp, the forest became less dense and we finally arrived at an open area of grassland with a small settlement two miles away. It was not marked on our maps. Xuey observed the place for a long time and insisted that he could see a flag flying from a pole—the flag of the Viet Minh. We deployed on the forest line and Xuey decided to survey the hamlet at dusk. There was nothing we could do but wait.
Taking a submachine gun, Xuey prepared to leave. He wanted to go alone, and when Riedl asked concernedly, “Won’t it be too dangerous?” our little Indochinese companion only smiled and said, “Remember that I was one of them.”
He vanished in the dark field like a cat. Half an hour later we heard the distant baying of dogs.
Xuey returned, soaking wet but satisfied. “There are paddies all around,” he reported. “I could not get very close because of the dogs. The guerrillas are all local people, not more than fifty men. But I spotted two trucks.”
“What trucks?”
“Loaded trucks,” Xuey added. “The Viet Minh must have captured them from the army.”
“Now isn’t that great!” Eisner exclaimed. “They are trafficking in trucks, happy and unconcerned. Next time we may discover an underground railway line running between Chen-yuan and Muong.”