The Ugly American (24 page)

"Let me see that, Dick, before you make the final cuts," the ambassador said. "I remember seeing an uncensored French army film of the fighting around Hanoi, and it was a bit unfair. One scene showed a French tank which had been blown up by a homemade native bomb, which gave the impression that tanks aren't useful out here. As we all know, our French colleagues think they're absolutely essential to the kind of warfare we've been fighting out here."

"Yes, sir, I will," Dick replied. "I think you'll agree that the rough-cut film will give a very objective picture of the situation."

The meeting went on for three hours. They discussed what social affairs should be held for Senator Brown, what sort of food should be supplied him at the Embassy (the Ambassador struck grits and hominy from the menu as too obvious a device to gain the Senator's approval), Mrs. Brown's interests and temperament, which native leaders the Senator should meet and under what circumstances. Then the Ambassador summed up.

"I think we've got the details under control," he said firmly. "But let's try to get clear on the general atmosphere and mood of this trip. The Senator believes we face a crisis around the world; and I think that none of us would disagree. So what we have to do is show our sense of drive and dedication. I want everyone here in the Embassy early, and I want no one to leave before eight at night. If you have back work to catch up on, this would be a good time to do it and keep the lights burning in the Embassy during the evenings. I want to see no Embassy employee in any French restaurant or cafe during the Senator's visit. I want no American Embassy employee to drive a car through the streets of Saigon during the Senator's visit. You can take taxis to work, or ride bicycles. In fact, that strikes me as a pretty good idea. Maybe half a dozen of you could rent bikes for the week he'll be here—and have a carpenter whack up a bike parking stand outside the Embassy door."

When the Ambassador dismissed his staff, he told two people to remain: Major Ernest Cravath, the military attaché of the Embassy, and Dr. Hans Barre, a naturalized American citizen who had been born in Germany and who was a specialist in Oriental languages. Dr. Barre was on temporary duty at the Embassy and was the only person there who spoke Vietnamese.

"Now, gentlemen," the Ambassador said, "I kept the two of you behind because there are still two things about the Senator's visit that worry me. First, he's going to ask questions about the military situation. As you know, Cravath, this is
a
difficult problem and there has been much misunderstanding about it in the minds of people not familiar with the situation. American newsmen have been most unfriendly about reporting French military tactics out here. Now you and I know that the French have faced a unique situation with great courage and imagination, but the Senator may be critical. I want you to talk to the French Commissioner-General and tell him the importance of this visit. I think he'll see things our way. The military aid out here runs into millions, and if Senator Brown isn't satisfied that it's being used wisely, it may well slow down to a trickle. Now I also want you to talk to the
Chef de Cabinet
for General Salan and make sure that all the French staff officers are briefed on what to say. This has got to be a good show, or things are going to deteriorate awfully damn fast in this country."

Major Cravath nodded, and left the room. The ambassador turned to Dr. Barre.

"Dr. Barre, this is the first time you have ever suffered through the visit of a politician, and you're going to find it a trying time. Politicians aren't interested in the reality of things; they're only interested in getting votes and occasionally making some Boy Scout points for themselves by proposing a big cut in our foreign aid budget. Brown is a particularly difficult Senator. What I should like you to do is to be at Senator Brown's elbow during his entire visit. He doesn't speak Vietnamese nor does anyone on his staff. What I should like you to do is translate for him."

"That should not be too difficult, Mr. Ambassador," Dr. Barre said. "As you know, I'm familiar with the language."

"But the Senator is not; and I'm afraid that if he gets literal translations of what strangers say, he may misunderstand," the ambassador answered. He was gazing out the window, his thumb and first finger caressing the Phi Beta Kappa key. "For example, he might stop suddenly and begin to interview a Vietnamese native in a field or along the street." The ambassador swung around, and his face was serious. "Can you imagine, Dr. Barre, the injury that might be done to American foreign policy if the Senator were to take seriously some of the nonsense uttered to him by a native?"

Dr. Barre nodded. His face was tired, and he avoided looking in the ambassador's eyes.

"Now, I don't want you to compromise yourself as a scholar and as an expert, Dr. Barre. What I would like you to do is just to make sense out of what the natives say if the Senator happens to talk to any of them."

Dr. Barre nodded again and stood up. He and the ambassador shook hands.

The reception committee that met Senator Brown's party at the Ten-San Airport outside of Saigon was not large. It included only the American Ambassador, the French Commissioner-General, Dr. Barre, and Major Cravath. Ambassador Gray explained that the high-ranking French generals had very much wanted to meet the plane, but urgent military considerations had kept them at work in the field.

"And a damn good thing, too," the Senator grunted as he stepped into the plain Ford sedan which was the ambassador's private property. "That's where generals belong—out in the field and in training camps."

As they drove into Saigon Ambassador Gray asked Senator Brown what he would like to see, and said only that the Embassy staff would aid the Senator in whatever he wanted to do. They had prepared no itinerary, and made no elaborate plans, the ambassador said, for they first wished to know what the Senator's particular interests were.

"Look, son, don't let's kid one another," Senator Brown said truculently. "In the last two and a half years, we've poured a billion a year into this country. I want to see what's been done with it. I also want to talk to the native political leaders, and to a couple of the native precinct leaders or ward bosses or whatever the hell they call them out here. I don't want a lot of fancy receptions and parties at which I only meet other Americans and diplomats. Now if you can't do that for me, just say the word, and I'll go stay in a hotel downtown and arrange my own itinerary."

The Senator sat solidly in his seat, his jaws locked on a cigar.

"Senator, I'll draw up a schedule tonight which will have an absolute minimum of official functions and an absolute maximum of contacts with natives and their leaders. Of course, you'll have to see a bit of the French diplomats and military leaders, but you probably want to do that anyway to get their point of view."

"Damn right," the Senator said.

That night Ambassador and Mrs. Gray and Senator and Mrs. Brown ate quietly in the ambassador's residence. After dinner the information officer appeared with a movie projector and showed a ninety-minute film on the background of politics in all of Indo-China. The information officer was experienced; whenever the Senator asked a question he stopped the film at once and answered it crisply and directly. When he didn't know the answer to a question, he promised to deliver it in writing the next day. Once the Senator asked about the kind of armament which the Communists had, and the information officer said that Major Cravath could supply a fuller answer to that.

"Now, Mr. Information Officer, how much do you estimate it cost you and the United States Government to put that film together?" the Senator asked with a tough grin on his face when the film was over. "That looks like a pretty expensive production."

"Sir, this film cost the United States Government nothing," the information officer answered quickly. "I'm an amateur photographer and movie-maker, and I put this together myself from French and American documentary films. And I might add, sir, on my own time."

Gray flashed the information officer a quick look of approval. After one more drink of sour-mash whiskey and branch water, the Senator went to bed.

The next morning the inspection trip began with a quiet flurry. Major Cravath and Dr. Barre were the only two escorts for the Senator and Mrs. Brown. They traveled in a clean but old weapons-carrier. It was a rough ride; the Senator had no way of knowing that Major Cravath had had the shock absorbers on the weapons-carrier taken up so tight that every bump in the road came through like a blow.

Their first stop was an ammunition depot which they inspected on foot. They then walked to an unloading dock where American military supplies were being unloaded, after which they drove in the weapons-carrier to a French training camp. They were met by a low-ranking French officer who took them off on a half-trot around the camp. They inspected an obstacle course, a tank-training field, a machine-gun range, and a parade field. By 11:30 it was obvious to Major Cravath that the Senator's legs were hurting him; but he did not slacken the pace.

Once Mrs. Brown suggested that they rest, but the Senator shook his head doggedly. She went back to the weapons-carrier, but the rest of the party continued the trip. Senator Brown stopped beside a group of Vietnamese natives who were being given instructions in a recoilless rifle by a French noncom and tapped one of the natives on the shoulder. The native glanced around, and sprang quickly to attention.

"Ask him how many times he's fired that rifle, and against what kind of targets," the Senator said to Dr. Barre. Dr. Barre and the Vietnamese spoke quickly for a few minutes. The native answered that he had never seen the recoilless rifle before this morning, and normally he was a cook. He was bewildered by the sudden change in his assignment, but delighted. The kitchen was hot. Dr. Barre turned slowly to the Senator.

"Senator, he says that he has worked several weeks with the recoilless rifle," Dr. Barre said. "He has not fired at targets because there is an extreme shortage of recoilless shells. He says, however, that he welcomes the chance to practice with the rifle, and would like to use it against the Communists."

"Well, why in the hell don't they ask for more shells?" the Senator asked angrily. "What the hell good is it sending out rifles without shells? Here's a man ready to fight, and we send out a couple billion dollars' worth of equipment but not the stuff he needs." The Senator swung his aching body sideways and glared at Major Cravath. Major Cravath and the French officer both answered at once. They both said that the situation was so serious that shells should be fired only at the enemy. Major Cravath pointed out that Indo-China was at the end of a long supply line which stretched across the entire Pacific. The French officer said that they were hoarding all of their ammunition to be used exclusively against the Communists.

The Senator grunted and they moved away. Later Major Cravath and the French officer agreed that it would merely have confused the Senator to point out that the recoilless rifle was an almost useless weapon in Indo-China, since the Communists fought in such a way that there was almost no target worthy of directing a recoilless rifle against. They also agreed hastily that the recoilless rifle would be invaluable if the larger cities of Indo-China ever had to be defended.

They ate a soldier's lunch in the field, and it was authentic. It consisted of French bread, a small tin of canned pork per person, a half-liter of wine, a highly-concentrated chocolate bar, and two huge yellow chunks of candy which tasted somewhat like lemon but which were actually almost pure dextrose. When the lunch was over, Mrs. Brown asked to be excused, and was driven back in a civilian car to the ambassador's residence.

The Senator continued his inspections, which for some reason all had to be made on foot. By four in the afternoon the Senator said he had had enough for the day. He dismissed Major Cravath and Dr. Barre, and said he would ride back to the ambassador's residence by himself. The Major and the translator did not protest. The ambassador had told them not to. Otherwise the Senator might think he was being given a slanted tour. The two men left in a weapons-carrier, and the Senator directed his driver, an American sergeant, to drive slowly back to the town.

"Son, have you ever laid one of these Vietnamese girls?" the Senator asked briskly. "Some of 'em look like pretty nice pieces."

"Sir, we don't fraternize very much with the natives," the sergeant answered.

"Hell, I didn't ask you if you fraternized. I asked you if you ever laid them."

"No, sir. I have my family out here," the sergeant said.

"Have you got a house out here? How many rooms? Any servants? Did you have a car shipped out at government expense?" The Senator's tone was suddenly very firm.

The sergeant had been warned to avoid answering direct questions, but he was being interrogated by one of the world's experts. Long ago Senator Brown had learned precisely how to put questions, and in what order, and with what speed. He also knew, without asking, that the sergeant was a pen-pusher and not a fighting man. The sergeant reluctantly answered "yes," to all of the Senator's questions; then the Senator stopped asking him, for he knew that the sergeant had been briefed. There was no more juice to be squeezed from this particular lemon, so the Senator ignored him and studied the town as they drove slowly through it.

They were halfway through the town when they passed a small outdoor cafe. Sitting at a round table, and obviously drunk, were two officers. One was a tall, lean American, and the other one was a short, thin French captain. They both wore dirty uniforms and the mud had splashed almost up to their thighs. Their shirts were white where salt crystals of sweat had dried on them. They were not talking to one another; they were merely staring out into the square in front of the cafe and drinking. Around their table was a circle of broken glasses; a French waiter stood a respectful distance away, obviously trying to ignore the pair.