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.A
Hazardous Job
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I had visited remote and
isolated refugee camps and had made good progress
setting up my control system in the camps. In one
of the larger refugee camps, on the Nam Ngouang
River, I met a highly intelligent girl. She was
employed by a French NGO and was also a local
employee of the UNHCR. The girl had superb
accounting skills, and also spoke beside English,
French, Cantonese, Laotian, Thai and Vietnamese.
Since I lacked the local language skills, she
offered to come along to visit camps with me. Her
name was Adriana Su-Silosoth, and she was 27,
traveling on a French Passport, but of
French-Belgium-Chinese-Laotian origin. She had
been educated in Hongkong, France and had studied
Mathematics at University College, the University
of London in Great Britain. She became an
invaluable help in getting our control mechanisms
working in the field. Ultimately, she moved to
Saigon and much later worked for my companies and
me with her husband in Singapore for the rest of
her working life before retiring in Sydney.
The camps last visited were
the two in the Burmese Border area. An area which
even then, was partially controlled by the Pathet
Lao on one side of the border and by Thais, Hmong
and American mercenaries pushing drugs on the
other side. I took Adriana along, and we flew
first from Luang Prabang to a small airfield in
the middle of the bush. Then a driver from the
camp collected us, and we drove to the first camp
in Monghpyak about 75 miles from the border. It
had rained very hard. The dirt road was almost
washed out, and the drive was an exhausting
ten-hour journey where we several times had to
dig the car out of the mud. The remote camp was
run by an Australian, and he had a small British
Save the Children Fund medical team with two
British nurses there. He received regular
medicines from us but bought all the food locally
with funds that we provided. The camp was kept in
good order, and there was hardly any waste. We
promised him a two-way radio station so that he
could call in requests for his supplies. At the
time of our visit, this was done merely by a sort
of internal mail where he gave his orders to the
pilot who then handed it over to our people. We
had only limited influence and limited help we
could provide them since it was very remote and
challenging to get to. It was also in Burma,
where the government did not particularly like us
even though at the time, the UN Secretary-General
was the Burmese U Thant.
In the second camp, we
visited by driving another one hundred miles into
Burma, there were enough medicines and food, and
the management was by a young Canadian, Malcolm
Kovac from Manitoba. He was capable and spoke the
local Burmese/Shan language. He had already
received a radio from the UNHCR but could not
make it work. It was a single side-band
Hallicrafter, and luckily, I had, as a former
Merchant Marine Officer learned how to set things
like that up and use them correctly. With a
little bit of instruction, Malcolm learned that
too. Within hours, we had set up the aerial mast
and now, he could talk directly to our radio
station in Saigon and through that report and
order supplies. Luckily, going back from Kengtung
to Luang Prabang was easy, since we could jump on
an Air America Plane.
Adriana Su remained in
Luang Prabang to solve some local problem before
she would come to Saigon. I was trying to get on
the UN plane back to Saigon. While we were
talking to the different local authorities and
our camp managers, we were staying at the former
Catholic Mission in Kengtung. The mission had
been abandoned in 1954 when the French left
Indochina. But a French doctor, Henri Castel, and
his Thai-Laotian wife, Christina, also educated
as a medical doctor in France, lived with some
local staff and their 12-year-old daughter at the
site. Henri Castel had been running their
substantial local clinic from the old Mission
complex since 1950 and had remained after the
French, and the Catholics had left.
Their daughter. Louisa
Castel had initially been educated locally and
had then spent two years with Henrys sister
Helena at a school near Honfleur on the Normandy
coast in France. Because Louisas
relationship with her aunt Helena had not been
perfect, Louisa came home until her father and
mother could arrange a boarding school back in
France. Much later, when we were in the jungle,
Louisa told me all about her problems with her
aunt Helena. Henry Castel had to find a way to
get Louisa to Saigon and from there on to the
Messagerie Maritime Packet boats to Marseille in
France that sailed every twelve weeks via
Capetown to Marseille. I offered to take her with
me and see that Louisa would get on the boat in
Saigon and Henry and Christina were pleased about
that. Louisa Castel was a small slender tomboy of
a girl. But she was funny, well-spoken and for a
twelve-and-a-half-year-old, and she was extremely
well read, observant and intelligent. Louisa
could speak and write Thai as well as Laotian,
French, some Hmong dialect and English. She had
earlier been in school in the North of France,
but her relationship with her overbearing aunt
had made things difficult, and she had decided to
come home for a time, to her parents.
Since there were no cars
from our office available, we took a taxi to the
airport to wait for our plane there. Our office
staff in town had told us, there was an incoming
UN plane from Hanoi. The UNHCR storage sheds were
at one end of the runway, quite some way from the
small central terminal building. One of the Air
America planes, a DC-6 had just unloaded food and
medical supplies and was preparing to fly
somewhere to Burma before going back to Bangkok.
Besides Louisa and I, a Dutch mechanic, Heiko
Saunders who did the maintenance on our
electricity generators and other mechanical or
electrical items in the camps was joining us to
fly back to Saigon.
When the DC3, 4U-VKL came
to the parking space and the engines stopped, the
young co-pilot a Swede who I knew, Herbert
Lundstrom was the first one to come out of the
plane. He was quickly followed by Captain Mark
Taylor an older Rhodesian, then Frank White, the
British mechanic and Geraldine Lafont, a French
radio officer, who had learned her trade in the
French Airforce. Herbert told me that they had a
hydraulic leak on the left engine and that they
had to repair it. To my amazement my Ambassador,
His Excellency Paul-Henri Gutt also came out of
the plane. He seemed to have been the only
passenger. He had been in Hanoi to present his
credentials to the North Vietnamese Government,
and he was not very happy, complaining loudly to
the crew and asking, how long we would stand
around in this awful place. He was almost
ignoring me and finally when he noticed me, he
asked, what I was doing here. I explained to him
what we were doing, but then in the middle of it,
he noticed Louisa, and he asked me, what she was
doing here. I tried to explain, but he cut me off
and said that it was against UN rules to take
private passengers along. According to him, she
had to stay in Luang Prabang, he said. He was
obviously right, but the operations worked on
"They help us, we help them," something
which was anathema to his thick skull. Louisa had
heard that she could not come along and was a bit
upset. I calmed her down, reassuring her that she
would be on the plane. The Ambassador had
meanwhile approached the Captain and told him
Louisa would not be allowed to board the flight.
Why he felt the need to
escalate that small issue, I really could not
explain. Captain Mark Taylor, who had probably
other things in his mind, turned abruptly around.
Taylor thundered, "Listen, you blown up
little office clerk, she comes with us, and if
you do not like it, you stay here. I am the
Captain, and I make the decision who enters my
plane! Is that clear?" Paul Henry Gutt was
shocked and said: "That will have
consequences!" but Taylor ignored him and
looked for the mechanic who repaired the engine
that leaked. Louisa, who had withdrawn closer to
the building but had overheard the dispute, waved
at me and smiled!
The day was scorching and
humid, and we had been sitting around for about
four hours while some mechanics from Air America
and our mechanic had looked at the technical
problem and replaced some parts. They had moved
the plane partially into the shed so that they
could work when it rained. The mechanics found
the leak in a small rubber hose and together with
some seals it had to be replaced. They found
parts that fitted. After a further two hours, our
technician came and said, they had to do a quick
test flight, "touch and go" to see
whether the repair held up. The engine started up
fine, and they could do their test. Half an hour
later the plane was back, and we could take out
seats.
Paul Henry Gutt walked in
front of me up to the small beaten up gangway and
to his place. He had selected the second seat on
the left-hand side so that he did not have to sit
next to anyone. The plane had 12 seats, one
behind the other on the left-hand side, and two
seats next to each other on the right-hand side.
There was a significant gap in front of the last
seat row so that stretchers could be placed
there. Behind the last seat rows, was a door to a
small toilette and to the cargo area. There was
no cabin door to the cockpit. Apart from some
small boxes, probably mail, which were secured
with nets, we did not have any cargo aboard. But
in the cargo area were three large boxes of
C-Rations, the standard American soldiers
food packages in the field. The large boxes had
been opened, and some of the packages were on the
floor of the compartment. I brought one of the
C-Rations to Louisa, suggesting that she could
take one to France so she would remember what she
missed! She had never seen them before, laughed
and opened it. There were chocolate and some
biscuits in it, and she was obviously hungry.
There were also some coolers with drinks which
were on the first row of seats on the right.
Louisa and I took a coke from the coolers and
then took the last row of seats on the right. The
Dutch mechanic, Heiko Saunders, sat in front of
the Ambassador on the left and fell almost
immediately asleep.
In the cockpit, the
mechanic and the Radio Operator/load-master sat
sidewise behind the pilots and had banks of
instruments in front of them. I asked the
co-pilot, along which route we would be flying,
and he showed me the flight plan on a sectional
chart. We would naturally be flying by sight, or
as it is known, VFR. The flight plan took us from
Luang Prabang almost due South to Van Vieng then
to Nam Ngum Lake, where we turned East until we
would see the Mekong river on our left. Most of
the time, we would be at around 7,000 or 8000
feet depending on what our heading was. We would
then follow the river until it turned
Southeasterly and then enter the Thai airspace.
Meanwhile, it was five in
the afternoon, and in an hour it would be dark.
The sky had some clouds but was generally clear.
The afternoon summer rains had passed. I asked
Herbert how they would see the Mekong in the
dark, but he assured me, it could not be
overlooked. I knew from the little night flying I
had done during my training in Southend-On-Sea,
in the UK, that once you were airborne, it took
longer to become pitch dark on the ground. Large
water areas such as the Mekong could almost
always be seen well.
We had rolled to the end of
the runway, and the pilots had run up the engines
a few times testing the magnetos on the engines.
Finally, we accelerated down the runway and
became airborne. We saw the Mekong on our left
and then turned left to fly southwards. The
lights of Luang Prabang in the upcoming darkness
looked a lot larger than they really were. The
one thing I remember most vividly in flying over
Laos was the darkness. Apart from a few places
and they were far apart, there were no lights
from cities or villages to be seen. Once you had
left Luang Prabang or Vientiane, there was just
darkness. It was quite different from flying over
Vietnam or Thailand, where there were always
lights to be seen.
We slowly climbed to our
assigned height, and after about twenty- five
minutes the plane leveled off, and the engine
power was reduced to cruising speed. I went to
the cockpit and asked the Captain how long we
would be in the air to get to Saigon. He thought
about 4 hours, provided we did not have to make a
detour requested by the US Air Force. I went back
to my seat, and Louisa told me about her life in
Kengtung. She had been in France, England, and
Italy but had spent most of her life at the
medical station at the Catholic Mission in Burma.
She told me that there were quite a lot of
Catholics in the Shan States, but there were
really no longer any missionaries. The medical
station which her father and mother operated
together with five local nurses was the only
thing that remained. I asked whether she did not
feel lonely since I had not seen any children of
her age at the mission. She said she was happy
with her books, her ham radio station, through
which Louisa talked to lots of amateur radio
operators across the world and her two horses
which she was sad about leaving behind. I also
found out that she was excellent at sending Morse
code since many of her amateur radio friends used
Morse code rather than voice radio transmission.
I had to learn that in Marine Officer School, but
I was quite slow, especially compared to her. She
also wrote a lot, and she showed me some of the
things she had written in her diary. During the
afternoon, she had written quite a well-observed
short chapter of her impressions of me, which I
thought funny.
After a time, we were both
tired and fell into a semi-sleep, a sort of
dozing off. Suddenly, there was the most terrible
explosion. I might have fallen asleep for five
minutes when I awoke. There was a lot of wind in
the cabin, and when I looked to the left, I could
see the sky and a large hole in front of us on
the left. Louisa had woken up as well and was
holding me with both hands. There was a lot of
noises, and the cabin light had gone off, except
for the small emergency light, so it was
difficult to see. One could also hear alarms
going off in the cockpit and the co-pilot
shouting very loudly. Louisa and I had both their
seatbelts fastened, and I told her to remain
seated while I tried to see what happened. I
loosened my belt, stood slowly up and held myself
on the seat row in front of us, ambling forward.
The wind was blowing very hard through the
enormous hole, where the seat with the ambassador
Paul Henry Gutt had been. It was no longer there,
and I could see there was a hole in the wing
between the engine and the fuselage. Flames were
coming out of the engines back, and there was the
smell of petrol and burnt oil. I went slowly
forward to the cockpit and saw Heiko with his
head back on the seat with open eyes staring at
me. He was obviously dead.
When I came into the
cockpit, Herbert Lundstrom shouted to tell me, we
had been hit by some kind of anti-aircraft fire.
He also told me to help Geraldine to move the
Captain from his seat. He was dead as well, and
there was blood everywhere. Herbert tried to keep
control of the aircraft, and we were at least
flying level, but Herbert said we would have
about ten minutes since the left engine was dead
and wind-milling. We had lost most of the fuel.
The mechanic, Frank Wright, who was sitting
behind the Captain, had half his leg blown off
and seemed to lose a lot of blood. He was alive,
but he could not move. I gave him some bandages
and rubber strips from the first aid box behind
him. Then I undid the Captain's seat belt harness
and moved his seat back, trying to get him out of
his seat. Finally, Geraldine and I managed to get
him on the floor, and she moved into the Captains
seat to help Herbert control the plane. I told
Herbert about the situation in the Cabin and that
Louisa and myself were okay. He said we should
stay there, fasten the belts and batten down
because he would try to put the plane down in a
rice field somewhere. Geraldine had already sent
out Mayday calls on the Air America network with
our position which was near the village of
Pakstan, almost on the Mekong about 50 miles from
an airbase. I asked Herbert whether we would make
it across the Mekong to Thailand, but he did not
think so. Herbert said, "Go to your seat; we
only have five or six minutes." I quickly
helped Frank put on the rubber to stop his
bleeding and then went to the back. My shirt and
shorts were full of blood, and Louisa asked
whether there was still anyone alive. I told her
about the situation quickly Louisa asked what
happened and I told her, we would ditch in a few
minutes. We both had a sort of back-backs; our
luggage was in the back of the plane in the cargo
hold. I told Louisa to put the backpack on her
legs. Then tighten the seat belt very tightly,
put her head down on the backpack and her arms
around her head. I did the same. It was an
endless wait until we hit the ground, apparently
very flatly, but the abrupt deceleration wanted
to pull you out of the seat.
Then, suddenly, the front
of the plane broke off right in front of our
seats, and our part came to a halt. Louisa had
still her head down, and I asked, whether she was
okay. There was an eerie silence. She looked at
me sideways and said smilingly, "We made
it." Right in front of our seats, there was
a lot of jagged metal with wires hanging out of
them. About a hundred yards in front of us we saw
the flames from the wing, the cockpit and the
right-hand engine in a small tree group which
they must have hit. I had taken a flashlight and
the small first aid box from the cockpit with me
to my seat.. The part of the plane behind us
appeared more or less intact, and we seemed to be
in a rice-field with water. I told Louisa to stay
in her seat while I found a way to get off the
plane and into the water. I went to the side,
where there was the one seat left and jumped into
the water beside the plane. It was only about one
foot deep, and there were no metal parts that
could cut us. About twenty yards to the side of
the aircraft I could make out a small dam with a
footpath. I told Louisa to give me our backpacks,
which I carried to the dam. I then went back to
the plane and told her to jump, so that I could
hold her. She jumped. Even though she was small,
her weight surprised me, and I fell with her on
top of me backwards into the water. My boots had
filled with water and sludge, and I could not
move back to catch her impact on my body.
Unfortunately, her left arm was under my body,
and she let out a small scream. I slowly rolled
to the side and stood up, but Louisa was
obviously in pain. As she moved the arm out of
the water, I noticed that she had broken her
forearm. "Oh damn, I survive the crash, and
then I break the bloody arm," she said under
tears. I helped her to the dam and told her to
lie down there. But she said she was all right,
just in pain. I then went back to the plane
wreck, and a took quite few boxes of C-rations
out, which I intended to load into our backpacks.
The surrounding water started to smell of petrol
that had sipped from one of the tanks and I was
afraid that it could catch fire or be ignited by
something I did. I also took another first aid
kit with a good knife in it with me that was
hanging on the wall of the toilette and brought
all the things to the dam.
There I told Louisa to lie
down because I did not want her to pass out from
shock or from the pain. She put her head on her
backpack, and I said I would try to go and see
what happened to the rest of the crew. One could
see that the dam led to the tree group and I
followed it to get to the front end of the plane,
which was still smoking, but there did not seem
to be an open fire. It took me an awfully long
time to get to the plane part, or so it felt
because I had to fight my way through some
bush-work. When I came to the wreck, I had to be
careful with all the sharp and jagged ends of the
metal that could injure me. Finally, I found a
way into the plane and went up to the cockpit
which was all smashed in. None of the crew had
survived. Herbert, I think had almost been
decapitated, and Geraldine had her neck in such a
strange way that I was sure she had a broken
neck. Frank was also dead. I was looking for some
bamboo sticks which I had seen Frank taking to
the plane. He had told me that he would use them
for his plants back in Saigon. I found some of
them and took them with me together with another
first aid kit and some duct tape that, I had also
seen earlier. With that, I returned to Louisa,
who had sat up and was filling with her uninjured
arm the two backpacks with C-Rations and one of
the first aid boxes. I told Louisa to lie down
again because what I would do now would be
painful, I would try to set her arm with the
bamboo sticks and some duct tape. I had also seen
that there was some gauze with plaster-of-Paris
that I could use, in the first aid kit. Louisa
put her teeth together, but I could see it hurt
because her tears rolled down her cheeks. After I
had set the sticks with the duct tape, I used the
plaster of Paris to stiffen it. We had to wait
for about half an hour so that the plaster would
harden. But Louisa smiled in pain. Then I started
to look around for some area with trees or large
bushes, where we would be protected. Along the
Mekong, I knew that there were a lot of Pathet
Lao, the Laotian communist insurgents, who
smuggled supplies across the Mekong from
Thailand. We had to be sure that only someone who
would help us would find us and the Pathet Lao
did not have a reputation for being generous.
Slowly, I put together all the bits which we did
not use and put them into the C-ration box which
I carried back to the plane wreck and deposited
them into the cargo bay. I did not want that
anyone would find evidence that there were
survivors. I also removed all the addresses I
could find from inside the luggage of Louisa. And
then hid Louisa and my large bags under the boxes
of mail that the plane carried back to Saigon. I
had to make sure that anyone who visited the
wreck though there were no survivors of the
crash. That took me some time, and I saw that it
was getting light. The plaster had hardened, and
I asked Louisa whether she felt able to walk. I
had given her a quarter of a morphine tablet from
the first aid kit to ease her pain. There were no
instructions for the dosage, but I thought, a
quarter was not doing too much damage. I guessed
her weight at about 80 pounds. So, if an adult
could take one tablet, a quarter for a small
adult would work. I thought we should go to one
of the trees and bush areas on the other side of
the rice paddy.
The rice plants on the side
of the dam where the plane had not landed, was
looking about two feet out of the water and the
water was about one foot deep. One could at least
hide from someone. Louisa went slowly into the
water and disappeared into the rice growth. I
stayed for the moment a bit behind her because I
wanted to make sure that one could not see, where
we had entered the field. Meanwhile, it had
become daylight.
We were not even ten
minutes hiding in the paddy-field when we heard
men approaching. Louisa came very close to me and
said quietly "Pathet Lao!" Was I happy
I had someone who spoke Laotian with me! They
talked about the plane, and one of the guys
shouted from some distance away that there was no
one alive. Then another insurgent shot his AK-47
into the field not so far from us. "It is a
UN plane, not American," said another
guy."I think they are all dead!"
replied one woman.
"You think we should
report it?" motioned another. No one
answered. We could not see any of the individuals
of the patrol because Louisa and myself were flat
on our belly in the water with only the head
looking out, but well hidden in the paddies
between the rice plants. When the patrol moved
on, we sat up in the water. Louisa had about ten
leeches on her arm and her legs. I must have
looked the same because Louisa laughed silently,
"You look awful!" she said softly. We
stayed for a time in the paddy, but when the sun
came up, it was boiling hot and humid. We had
found some water-purification tablets in the
C-Rations, and Louisa had a small water flask in
her pack so we could get some drinking water. It
smelled foul and was brownish full of sediment.
But it was enough for the moment. A little later
we moved towards the trees and came out of the
rice paddy walking about one hundred yards into
the brushes. We hid behind some trees and thick
low-level brush and bushes, where one could not
see us from the dam. We made sure that no one
could find the place where we had entered the
undergrowth. Then we took off our shorts to
remove the leeches. A small tube with some
solution from the first aid kit helped with that.
We also found a gauze that had an instruction for
water filtration in the C-ration pack. My clothes
were still full of blood, but when I took my
shorts off, I saw a hole in my leg, a small flesh
wound with some blood trickling out. It was
nothing serious, but it would get infected
quickly, so I took a tetanus tablet and gave one
to Louisa as well, since she had scratched
herself when we walked through the brushwood. She
looked at the wound with the flashlight and said,
"There is something in it!" It was
strange because it did not hurt at all.
"Well better get that out. Otherwise,
it will become septic, and you will have blood
poisoning very quickly. I have seen it
happen!" she warned. "I will try to
take it out with tweezers, but it will
hurt," she said. There were some alcohol,
peroxide and large tweezers in the first aid kit.
"Don't scream. Otherwise, the Pathet Lao
will hear us," she reminded me and poured
some peroxide on the wound and the tweezers. Then
she took the flashlight and entered the wound
with the tweezers. It burned like hell and tears
came up. After about two minutes of prodding, she
pulled very hard, and out came a small metal
part, barely half an inch long, but sharp like a
razor blade. She showed it to me and then put
some antiseptic cream from a tube in the kit into
the wound and a waterproof Band-Aid on it. I had
almost passed out."So, now we are
even!" she said with her impish smile,
reminding me that I had broken her arm!
I decided that we would
stay in the tree lot until later that day and
Louisa agreed because she said that people are
not likely to go out of their village at the end
of the day. But we had to be careful about Pathet
Lao search parties who would no doubt come back
and look at the plane when the petrol had
evaporated. It was therefore crucial that we
moved from the vicinity of the crash site as soon
as possible. We also whispered when we talked
with each other. We tried to avoid talking when
we walked, to make as little noise as possible.
So that anyone searching for us could not hear
us. I had a small compass in my backpack and some
emergency gear like fishing tackle, snares, etc.
It was a standard American survival package. At
that moment I thought, "Thank God for
America and all their equipment garbage which
they always give you." Europeans would
never be so well equipped. We were not short of
food either because we had C-Rations and I
calculated that we had probably enough food for
ten days. We had to be careful not to leave any
rubbish lying around because someone else could
find it and they could find us. I asked Louisa
what she had heard when the people talked and
made her go over every detail. I wanted to be
sure that the Pathet Lao did not know that there
were survivors from the crash. She understood
very well that our life depended on that and on
how we could move around unseen. Louisa thought,
from what she had heard, that there was a village
nearby, but that the Pathet Lao was from a place
further up a small stream, which they said they
had to cross. There was also an airfield some
distance from us because we could see transport
planes from Air America, flying maybe at about
5000 feet and climbing. I did not see any
aircraft descending, so they must come from
another direction to land. We did not see any
Sikorsky or Bell helicopters hovering around. Our
crash had not yet been noted because there did
not seem to be any search effort with low flying
helicopters.
We did not see or hear
anyone near us, so when we thought it was time,
we cleaned up the place and moved slowly on. We
walked back to the dam along the rice fields so
that we could get into the rice paddies and hide
in them if we saw or heard someone. There had
been no rain today, and the sky was cloudless. We
could go on walking because the moon gave us
sufficient light.
We stopped at around two in
the morning in an area with quite a lot of trees
and low-level bushes walking some distance into
the forest. When we found a flat area, we cleared
some of the bushes and put one of the plastic
sheets down on the ground, using another plastic
sheet to cover us. During our walk, we had not
seen anyone, but I had noted, that we had walked
in the right direction towards the airfield. Some
of the planes were also flying lower. We had only
walked about ten or fifteen miles in six hours.
The countryside was made up of some softly
rolling hills with a lot of rice fields, but
there did not seem to be any villages. At least
we did not see them. They were probably hidden in
the surrounding forest. Shortly after we stopped
and hid in the undergrowth, there was a
tremendous rain, and we had to take cover under
two of the small plastic sheets which we had
unpacked from one of the emergency kits. We
huddled close together and started to eat
C-ration chocolate, cold baked beans and
biscuits. We were both rather hungry. At around
four in the morning, we were still awake because
we could not get comfortable, we heard and saw
about twenty people only seventy yards away on
the small dam. They were quite loud and had
flashlights.
Louisa listened intently,
"Pathet Lao," she said, "and they
were talking about the crashed plane. I think
they also found the Ambassador because they
mentioned a man in an aircraft-seat they had
found some 20 miles further up. One of them said
that the Laotian radio had mentioned the missing
plane and that the Americans would be searching
for it tomorrow." The column disappeared in
the distance, and we fell asleep under the
plastic. It rained several times again, but we
stayed more or less dry. When I woke up, the sun
was already high, it was nine in the morning.
Louisa's arm was very swollen and hurt, and so
did my leg. Towards ten, a group of women came
and started working in a rice field not far from
where we hid.
"Local women,"
Louisa said, "but one of them was mentioning
that their men worked for the Pathet Lao. We
cannot approach them !" Louisa reminded me.
When I was in the plane, I had looked at the
sectional charts with Herbert who explained the
flight route to me.. He showed me the alternative
airfields we could use in an emergency. From the
little, I knew and could remember, the field near
us, was one of them. We just had to get to it. I
mentioned that to Louisa, and she agreed. We
thought it was about 40 or 50 miles away. It
would take us four to five days to walk there
since we had to be careful not to be seen and
detected by local people of the Pathet Lao.
The women working in the
field stayed until about five, an hour before
sundown, and then left to walk back to their
village. Louisa and I followed them with our
eyes, to see where they would disappear. It
seemed that there was a village about two miles
away, behind another lot of trees. We could not
see the village, but Louisa said she smelled the
smoke from their cooking fires. I could not smell
anything.
When we were sure the women
and some of the teenage girls with them had
disappeared, we went on the dam and walked in the
opposite direction to another group of trees and
then continued along a small path through the
trees. We had to be careful because it was likely
one of the supply paths the Pathet Lao or the
Vietcong used.
On this day, the planes
must have been taking off in another direction
because we could not hear any of them flying
overhead.
We repeatedly stopped on
the path listening that no one was around. After
about three hours walk up the small hill, we came
to another terraced rice field. We made sure that
there was no one on the dams before we continued.
We had climbed quite a bit, and we could see in
the moonlight in the distance a village where the
rice farmers who owned this terrace probably came
from. Now I could smell the smoke from the
cooking fires as well.
We walked for another four
hours, partially on the dams and sometimes on the
small paths through the bush. When we stopped for
a rest, my leg really hurt. Louisa pulled up the
large and now very dirty Band-Aid. My leg was
swollen and gangrenous. She cleaned it with some
alcohol, put some more peroxide on it and some of
the antiseptic cream and then put another large
Band-Aid on the leg. The swelling on her arm had
gone down, and she did not feel any pain. I had
given her another quarter part of a morphine
pill. Louisa said she felt fine and did not have
much pain. After a time, we collected all the
debris and put it back into our packs. We decided
to walk for another two hours so that we would
have done about fifteen miles or slightly more.
In the moonlight, we had seen that there was
another valley in front of us and then a more
significant hill. There were riced terraces
everywhere on the side of the mountain, so we had
to be careful not to be seen by villagers or
Pathet Lao patrols. At about five in the morning,
we decided to stop and hide again in the bush. We
were walking along a dam when we suddenly heard a
group coming towards us. Louisa and I disappeared
into the paddy field; luckily the rice plants in
the paddy-field were quite high. Staying in the
water, about twenty yards from the dam, we held
our packs and our heads out of the water. The
group was quite noisy. It was large, and some of
them seemed to push bikes.
"Pathet Lao, but some
of them are Vietnamese!" Louisa whispered
into my ear. It was the largest group we had
seen; maybe two hundred people walking one behind
the other. All were heavily loaded with supplies.
Some of them pushed bicycles, and some had small
two-wheel trailers on their bicycles. No far from
where we were hidden a bicycle and its trailer
slipped off the dam and fell into the paddy
field. The soldiers who helped to recover it were
Vietnamese and they came close to our hiding
place. We had to be very quiet and I was even
afraid to breath.
It appeared that amongst
the group quite a few were women. Louisa and I
watched them looking through the gaps in the rice
plants. I was surprised that the Vietnamese were
that far from their border. Later Louisa told me
that they Vietnamese were all from the North. We
were after all only a few miles from the Thai
border and the Mekong. When they disappeared, I
asked Louisa whether she had seen the Vietcong as
far away from the North-Vietnamese border. She
said, "Yes, some of them even come across
the Chinese border in our area and walk through
Burmese territory. My father says they are
avoiding the American bombing of their trails
closer inland!" After a time, when we were
sure that there were no other groups following,
we moved out of the water, across the dam and
into the bush. We had to move a few hundred
yards, and some of the forest was full of a sort
of brambles with spikes on them. It was important
to hide well, just in case there were other
groups following along the path during the day.
When we found a well-hidden place, we put our
plastic sheet on the ground and then took off our
wet and stinking clothes. Our bodies were full of
leeches, and we both had infected scratches from
the brambles and bushes we had to remove, to find
a hiding place. We tried to clean them up with
some alcohol and antibiotic or antiseptic cream.
After we had removed the
leeches and put our clothes over some bushes to
dry, we ate some of the baked beans and a sort of
dried bread. It tasted good because we were both
hungry. Then we took some shirts out of my pack
and put them on. Despite the tropical climate, it
could get quite cold at night. We huddled
together under the plastic sheet and fell asleep.
I woke up when I heard some
noise. A group of women were going to the nearby
rice-field. They had some small children with
them. That was a bit of a problem since the
children would wander off in the surrounding bush
and they could easily detect us. Louisa moved
from under the plastic to gather the shorts and
shirt we had left on the bushes to dry. Our
plastics were camouflaged on one side and orange
on the other. We always made sure to have the
camouflages side on the outside so that it could
not easily be detected. We could not move with
all the people near us. So, we stayed hidden
under the plastic sheets.
At around seven in the
evening I woke up. The rice farmers had gone home
a long time ago, but we had both fallen asleep.
Louisa and I were just starting to put our things
together and clean up the place when a group of
men stopped at the fireplace on the side of the
dam. The women had used it to prepare some food
earlier in the day. The Pathet Lao group were
talking about the crashed plane, and some of them
said that it was not right that they had not
buried the bodies. One guy - Louisa thought, he
was the commander of the group - said it was
better to leave the bodies there. The Americans
would find them and take them away. If the Pathet
Lao removed them, the Americans would be angry
and drop defoliants which would kill all the
rice, said the apparent commander.
After an hour the group
moved on. We waited another hour so that we would
not cross their path again. Then we packed
everything together and made our way on the dam,
and after a few hundred yards we walked through a
small path in the bush. We walked for four hours,
and it was about two in the morning when we
stopped. Our long hike was all uphill, and we
climbed from one set of terraces to another. We
did not see or hear anyone, but we were always
aware that we could come across a patrol.
Finally, we arrived on top of the hill, and we
could see maybe five to seven miles in front of
us the lights of an airfield and planes taking
off away from us. There appeared to be a lot of
air traffic. We could also see in the distance
behind the airfield the Mekong, which was the
border to Thailand. Louisa kissed me saying,
"We have almost made it! Just another day or
two!" "Yes, but without you, I
wouldnt have survived more than a day. Your
language and surgical skills have saved mine and
our life!"
I was not sure whether we
should go down to the valley or stay on top of
the hill. There seem to be fewer rice fields on
the top and, therefore, there would be fewer
people who could see us. But at the same time, I
was quite sure that the Pathet Lao had its
look-out posts on the hill. Though, if we went to
the valley, they would see us as well from the
hill. I told Louisa my concerns, and we decided
to stay in the small woods on top of the
mountain. It started to rain again, and we
huddled under the plastic, eating C-rations. We
both agreed that the cold baked beans really
tasted well when one was hungry. While going
through the C-Rations, I noticed a small box. It
contained some matches, some Magnesium strips, a
lighter, a small square box which could be made
into a stove and some tablets that contained a
dried tablet form of petrol. We could actually
heat the baked beans but decided not to do that,
because of the smell which would give us away.
After eating, we fell asleep quite quickly. The
rain had stopped shortly before four, and I heard
some noise. I tapped Louisa on the shoulder, but
she had heard it as well. A group of people came
up the hill and passed very close to us. There
were literally only a few yards from our hideout
behind some bushes. Louisa said, "Pathet
Lao!" when one guy stopped right in front of
us and started to pee in our direction. It was so
close that we could smell the hot piss. When he
had finished, he continued to run after his
troops, but it gave us some real fright. After
they had disappeared, Louisa told me that they
were talking about their base, probably an
underground cave about one mile from us; quite a
bit below the top of the hill. That sounded
promising for us because they were not likely to
see us if we stayed here.
About an hour later, there
was a firefight somewhere on the outskirts of the
air base. We heard the exploding shells, saw the
tracer bullets and the magnesium flares. It was
quite an eerie sight. Twenty minutes later the
"battle" was over, and it was quiet
again. We moved our camp a little bit deeper into
the woods and fell quickly asleep.
Early in the morning at
around six thirty, with first light, we heard the
helicopters go out over us. They were very low,
maybe only three hundred feet above us. We had
missed the first squadron, but we saw another one
just preparing to take off from the airfield. We
put our things together and placed the plastic
with its orange side up on the ground, putting
branches onto the edges to keep the plastic down.
We had gone out into a small open field to do
that. I used the little mirror from my survival
kit to shine sunlight into the pilot's eyes as
they came closer. Two of the Sikorsky's had seen
us, and one came down quite near us while the
other remained in the air hovering to the side of
us. Five camouflaged soldiers jumped out of the
helicopter and run towards us. Louisa shouted at
one of them: "You took your time!"
smiled and ran towards the helicopter. I followed
behind, while two soldiers took our backpacks
into the helicopter, which took off and turned
towards the base with us. We had been saved.
Within minutes, we were on the base.
Immediately after we
landed, some orderlies came, put us on stretchers
and carried us to the medical station. "Are
you from the UN plane?" they asked us.
"Yes, we are!" A young female doctor
and some male nurses came and asked what
happened. I told her about the broken arm and my
small wound and what I had done. Louisa was on
the stretcher next to me and held my hand which
she did not want to let go. "You know,"
she said with tears in her eyes, "we made
it, we actually made it!"
"Lady," said the
orderly to her, "you have to have a bath!
You smell terrible!" Louisa cried and smiled
at the same time. They had Louisa in one corner
of the treatment room, cut the plaster open and
had a look at it. I think they must have given
her an injection to calm her down because they
seem to wash her arm and reset it and she did not
make a sound.
Another two doctors looked
at my leg, gave me a local anesthetic, then made
a cut and took out another small piece of metal.
I had been sitting up and watched what they did.
"Well," she botched the job!" I
said jokingly and pointed at Louisa. "She
did that?" asked the doctor. "Yes, she
took out the first piece of metal with some
tweezers," I answered. "She can join us
anytime!" said the young doctor and was
sewing up the hole in my leg. "It will be
sore for a few days, but you will survive,"
he motioned and then went on to something else.
Louisa was all right, just
knocked out from whatever they gave her. She now
had a proper cast on her left arm. A Colonel came
in with a map and asked me, where I thought we
had crashed. We had not walked that far, maybe
sixty-five miles from the crash site. As we
looked at the map, a Sergeant rushed in and said:
" We have found the plane and the bodies.
They are on the way back here." I asked the
colonel whether he could get me a radio
connection to the Castel's because they would
surely be worried about what happened to their
daughter. I gave him their call sign, and he
promised he would send them a message. He would
also send a message to my office in Saigon,
telling them that I was alive.
The next day they had
brought in the bodies, all except the
Ambassadors. They had washed the bodies, and I
went to the morgue to identify them. Louisa
wanted to come along, even though I did not think
this was such a good idea. But she maintained
they had been with us in life, so we should be
with them in death. Louisa went to the body of
each of them and said a small prayer. I thought
she said a Buddhist prayer rather than a Catholic
one, which she later confirmed. She kissed each
of the bodies on their forehead.
Three days later, Louisa
and I were on a plane to Saigon. I had talked to
Louisa's parents on the radio and told them she
could stay with me since the boat to Marseille
had already left. I would arrange that she could
go to the local French lycée which was only down
the road from us and then she would go on the
next boat in about three months to Marseille. The
parents were very pleased. They had not even
heard about the crash. After talking to Louisa,
who was very excited, they wanted to speak with
me again because they were worried about the
financial side of things. There was no problem
from my side, we would just go and buy Louisa new
clothes and school material. I had a lovely young
Vietnamese maid, found by courtesy of my
apartment neighbor and friend, General
"Fred," the head of the
South-Vietnamese military planning, and there was
more than enough space in my large five-room
apartment for Louisa to have her own bedroom and
a school workroom.
After our arrival in
Saigon, my boss William got us at the airport and
drove us home. He had no problem with Louisa
staying with us. William,s apartment was a floor
below mine. I arranged everything with her French
school in Saigon, her ships ticket, her school in
France and all the other things necessary. She
also had to get an identity card from us and from
the South-Vietnamese Security services.
"Fred," my neighbor was a great help in
that. Without these necessary bureaucratic aids,
she could be arrested. We also had to buy clothes
for her. Luckily, her French passport had
survived, but the first Secretary of the French
Embassy came to our house and asked whether we
needed any help. His rather young wife, who
taught at the French school would also help in
getting clothes and all the other necessary
things for Louisa.
Fifteen weeks later Louisa
went on the SS Cambodia via Capetown to
Marseille. She cried terribly when we brought her
to the ship because she had a lovely time with us
all and everyone looked after her. We had all
chipped in and upgraded her to a better single
cabin from which she wrote long and beautiful
letters to everyone.
Louisa and I stayed in
touch ever since. In 1979, when I worked in
Neuilly and lived in Paris at the Carrefour de
l'Odeon in St. Germain de Pres where I still
live. She finished her lycée and then studied at
Science Polytechnic. We remain friends and are
still rather close though we do not see each
other often. I also became a friend of her
fathers sister Helena and visited her often
with a sometimes-reluctant Louisa. Louisa never
married. When Helena died, Louisa inherited
Helenas château and her farm near
Honfleur. Louisa is now close to retirement and
has worked as an economist and a Director of
Regional Research for the OECD in Paris. Besides
Honfleur which she uses for weekends, she lives
on the Ile St Louis in the 4th
arrondissement not very far from my apartment.
Her parents had a rather
sad end. Both, her father, and her mother
disappeared in 1975 when the Pathet Lao took over
power in Laos. They were never seen again. I saw
them the last time in 1972, when they came to
France, to Helenas place when Louisa was
nineteen and had completed the lycée and the
course préparatoires for entering the Science
Pol.
In 1994, I went with Louisa
for a month to Laos to see whether we could find
out anything but had no luck. We also went to the
site of our crash. The wreck of our plane was
still there, though it was totally overgrown. But
it brought lots of memories back to us.
©2015-2019ajs
bertberger 9104 words
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