A solid-looking two-story brick building on the edge of the slope was the general’s villa. The windows were all tinted dark blue. Behind the house was a tiled swimming pool. Farther down the slope on the right were the guards’ quarters and a large storehouse, and behind that stood a tennis court encircled by a white fence covered in wire mesh.
The first time Pham Quyen had visited Bai Bang he was awestruck. He had even taken his boots off so he wouldn’t get dirt on the carpet. But the general traveled to Saigon for several days for a meeting with the president at Independence Palace soon after that, and then Quyen became very comfortable in the villa. He even made it his own, bringing a woman with him and spending a three-day vacation there. He popped the general’s champagne, and even used the general’s bed. The Chinese cook, Chap, dressed up in the general’s robe with its embroidered dragon in Qing-dynasty style. Quyen had spent about two thousand dollars to use the villa during his sojourn. The money had, of course, gone to buy the complicity of the cook, the butler, and the guards. Whenever Liam went to Saigon, Quyen stayed at the villa. He wasn’t trying to make fun of his superior or get the man in trouble. Even if Liam were to find out about it, he would not be shocked; the briefcases filled with mint cash that Liam always took with him on his trips were travel expenses that Quyen had gotten together for him.
As Quyen approached the porch, the guards standing at either side of the entrance to the villa aimed their rifles at him. But they were smiling. The manager of the villa, a staff sergeant, took the gun belt Quyen had unfastened and handed to him. Then he rang the doorbell for the visitor, and inside it sounded like a temple gong in the distance. A middle-aged man in a white cotton jacket straightened his clothes and then opened the door. Quyen casually walked in. The entire back wall of the main room was glass, so it seemed to open directly onto the sea. Mounted on the wall was a buffalo head, along with an old shotgun and the like. Directly below there was a Buddhist altar, several half-burnt sticks of red incense in the bronze incense burner. These furnishings were a familiar sight for Quyen. There were also several reproductions of paintings and an enormous military-issue air conditioner that didn’t fit with the rest of the room.
“Would you care for a drink, sir?”
“No, thank you. Wake up the general for me.”
The butler tiptoed upstairs. After a while he reappeared and told Quyen that the general would be down shortly. At first the major stood at attention, but when he realized it could be some time, he turned around and relaxed. He gazed out at the South China Sea. The waves were a pale bluish green. At the far end of the bay could be seen several large transport vessels. Down through the glass, a small US patrol boat could be seen stealthily making its rounds to the outer piers of Da Nang Harbor.
“Bonjour.”
Quyen turned around. A fair-skinned woman in a long crimson Chinese gown slit to the thigh was slowly descending the stairs. Her sleepy eyes suggested she was only half-awake. At the end of her limp fingers was a burning cigarette.
“Sorry to have to awaken you from a sweet sleep, madam,” Quyen said in French. But the woman responded in a southern dialect of Vietnamese.
“You’re Major Pham, aren’t you? The general told me about you many times. A very fine officer, he said.”
“Thank you.”
“I arrived from Saigon yesterday. Saigon is tremendously. .”
“Yes, it’s a fine place.”
“No, I mean, it’s extremely violent. An offensive?”
“The worst is over. As you can see, it’s very peaceful here.”
The major recognized her at once. While packing the general’s travel kit, he had noticed a picture of a striking woman in a Singaporean magazine. She was probably half-French. Now he understood why the general had been traveling to Saigon so frequently. He would have done the same. Her hair was reddish-brown, her frame small like an Oriental woman, and her skin an amber color, lighter than the typical Vietnamese. Standing there on the carpet, she kept curling up and stretching out the toes of her tiny bare feet, and then she stood on one foot as she spoke. Quyen felt an urge to crush her feet with his heavy army boots.
“Is there some event today?”
“Yes, we have to cut the tape to dedicate a new resettlement village.”
“Resettlement village?” the woman huffed scornfully, a sarcastic smile on her lips.
Pham Quyen snapped to attention. The general was coming down the stairs in a Hawaiian shirt and golf pants. His salt and pepper hair was cut short, his nose was hooked and his lips were very thin. His stature was on the short side but he seemed to have an iron constitution. He clenched a pipe in his teeth. In his usual cold manner, the general said, “At ease. Have a seat.”
Pham Quyen remained standing. The general looked back at the woman. “Why don’t you change?”
She nodded, gave the general a peck on the cheek, and withdrew. The general looked up at the clock on the wall.
“What brings you here?”
“Sir, today is the dedication for the new resettlement village in An Diem.”
The general frowned slightly. “The mayor of Hoi An can attend to such things, can’t he?”
Without hesitation, Pham Quyen replied, “No, sir. Your Excellency must attend.”
Rather than showing any displeasure or surprise, the general changed his tone to one of consultation.
“Ah, I see. Brief me.”
As if he had expected this, the major removed a notebook scribbled with numbers and notes in very small handwriting from the pocket of his jacket. The heading read “Tonh Sinh Phuoc Tho” or “New Life Hamlets.” There were a number of infrastructure details that needed attention, like dams and watercourses; a center for disabled veterans; and then information on troop movements and so on. The phoenix hamlets program was just a new name for the old strategic hamlets resettlement program initiated by the USOM9. Now it was a larger-scale pacification program jointly conducted by representatives of AID, the US advisory group, and the Vietnamese government. But the man in charge of preparing and implementing the budget for the entire project was the provincial governor. The general and his staff had established the plan and Pham Quyen headed it. The US advised and handled all implementation requisitions.
“In our Quang Nam Province, sixty hamlets have already been successfully settled. Our aim is to build phoenix hamlets at three hundred sites.”
“Skip the overview. Tell me about the strategic hamlets in An Diem.”
“Your Excellency, they’re not strategic hamlets anymore; they’re phoenix hamlets.”
“Right, phoenix hamlets. .”
“Yes, and our plan is to build twelve phoenix hamlets in An Diem, and the one today is a model and the largest. Fifteen hundred residents.”
“What are we going to have them do?”
“As soon as they’re settled, they’ll be given land around An Diem valley. The plots will be one or two acres, and they’ll farm and raise cattle. With the money from AID we’ve built three hundred houses, enclosed a plot of common community land with wire fences, built a public hall and a warehouse, and we’re planning to construct schools for the An Diem district.”
“Mmmm, there’s nothing special about it, is there?”
“Your Excellency, we also have a significant interest in parts of this program. In fact, the potential is great. Our office just today received five thousand sacks of fertilizer and thirty truckloads of cement, and that’s just the beginning of the An Diem program.”