Honey, I'm Dead!

This story was inspired by a news clip I saw on '20/20' about a Vietnam Vet that had been listed as Killed In Action, KIA. His mother had received a telegram that he was dead, but years later he was found living in New Zealand. He had gone on Leave in Sydney, Australia. His Service Enlistment had ended and he had just never gone back. I wondered, what would cause someone to do this? The story started out a BTB and ended up a Romance.

November 1971

I had just returned to Viet Nam from Leave at home. My wife had been excited for me to meet my new son. The problem was the kid wasn't mine.

I have dark hair and blue eyes and have a light completion. She is German and has blonde hair and blue eyes. The child had brown eyes and olive skin, not my kid. The math was off too. I had been in Viet Nam for a year and the kid was two months old. She had obviously gotten pregnant right after I left for Viet Nam and was trying to pass the kid off as mine. I also had friends letting me know that she had been screwing around on me while I was away. I don't know how stupid she thought I was, but guys in the military look out after each other. Especially, people in my kind of unit, we take care of our own. I wasn't having any of this bullshit.

The 'wife' tried to seduce me a number of times and wondered why I wouldn't touch her. She had the gall to accuse me of cheating and I just laughed at her. I explained to her that she had cheated and had a child with another man. She switched tactics and went to the waterworks, crying that she had made a mistake one time and I should forgive her. When that didn't work, she went back to denying that the child wasn't mine and while I felt sorry for the kid, I wasn't going to raise another man's child in a situation like this. In my job, we were trained to interrogate enemy prisoners and often you can do this without torturing them, if you just know the signs to look for when you are questioning them. You can also structure your questions to take advantage of these unconscious signals that people give when they are lying. All that said, I knew she was full of shit about not cheating, it only being the one time and the kid being mine.

After two stressful weeks of her trying to convince me the kid is mine, I left.

I still had a year left on my enlistment, so I volunteered to go back to Viet Nam.

This wasn't so bad for someone like me as I was on a Special Forces A-Team. We were fighting something of a different war than the regular Grunts that were stuck with Commanders still trying fight World War II, seizing ground, and maneuver against an enemy that you couldn't maneuver on, they were like ghosts. The ground would be willingly given by the enemy, only to be given back by our side, when some pointless objective had been achieved. Our commanders didn't understand that destroying the enemy was the key to the battle. And destroying the enemy's willingness to fight was a big part of that and you did that by making the fight seem hopeless to the Soldiers on the ground. Take away his supplies, his entertainment and most importantly his purpose and he is defeated.

The poor People of Viet Nam were just stuck in the middle of this war and we needed to see that they were almost always just victims. When they did act against us, most of the time, it was because they were coerced by the North Vietnamese Army or Viet Cong. Sometimes however, we or the French had done something in the past that made them hate all whites and there was nothing that could be done about those situations.

There was also a bunch of racist and religious bullshit going on that people refused to see for some stupid reason.

My A-Team had been doing a bunch of things. We had an A-Camp Southwest of Da Nang and we ran patrols into the Central Highlands and interdiction missions on the Ho Chi Min Trail. We worked with Montagnard's and had created something of a small army with them. An A-Team is supposed to create a Battalion size element, however we had closer to a Regiment or Brigade because we were successful and attracted recruits.

My A-Team had rotated home and most of the guys were looking to drink some beer and get some rest, hanging out together. I told them about my situation with the 'wife' and they understood why I couldn't hang around.

My Commanding Officer and Sergeant Major made two phone calls and I had a set of orders sending me back to Viet Nam. Assignment - to be determined.

I didn't even bother to tell the 'wife' I was leaving, as that was not part of the plan.

Yes, I had a plan.

I landed in Saigon two days later, with the rest of my month's long leave left to burn.

For some bizarre reason, I was still wearing my wedding band, which I took off and stuffed in the bottom of my shaving kit.

I checked in at the Embassy, to let them know I was in country, but I did not check in with any Army Units, so my movement wasn't restricted.

I had picked up quite a bit of Vietnamese my previous year as well as French, having been stationed in Europe, so I had no problem getting around. A lot of people spoke English too, which was nice.

My plan was in its infancy, but I didn't think I was going to be able to stay here in Viet Nam after I got out of the Army, the way things seemed to be going with the war.

The next thing I did, was buy a Browning Hi-Power off the black market and go test fire it.

My second week in country, I met a beautiful French-Vietnamese Woman named, Mei Hong.

"I noticed you are reading an English paper." I commented as she sat in the next table over at the cafe I was having a late breakfast at, in Thủ Dầu Một.

"Yes, I'm an English Teacher at the University." This beautiful woman replied. I didn't know her name yet.

"I'm Rick and your name is?" I asked in Vietnamese. I extended my hand in greeting.

She laughed and brought her hand up to cover her face.

"What's so funny?" I recoiled. Sitting up and pulling my hand back.

"I'm sorry, but you speak Vietnamese like a hill person." She replied, extending her hand. "I am Hong Mei."

I shook her hand and something passed between us. I felt it at least, I don't know if she did.

"Would you join me for brunch." I asked.

"Brunch?" She asked. "What is that?"

"It is a name for a late breakfast, right before lunch, on a relaxed day like today." I said as I stood and pulled out a chair at my table, for her.

She still hadn't agreed to join me, but by her smile, I thought she might.

She stood and let me push her chair up as she sat at my table. I thought we were ready to enjoy a pleasant meal and conversation. I seated myself and was shocked.

"So, in your country, does a married man always invite women to dine with him." She indicted to my left hand. She was still smiling. The tan line that my wedding band had left was still visible.

"Wow, we are going to dive right into this." I commented. A little taken aback. "Mei, I am married, but I assure you I am never returning to that woman." I began my story, much sooner than I had intended. "She had a child with another man and tried to pass it off as my own. I believe that releases me from my obligations to her." I held her gaze as I spoke. I'm not sure, but I think she could see the pain of betrayal in my eyes.

"I'm sorry, Rick." Mei said, placing her hand on my forearm for comfort and gave me a reassuring squeeze.

"It's alright, you didn't know." I replied, letting her know I was not offended by her comment.

Just then the waitress returned with a plate of fresh croissants, jams and butter.

"This place has the best croissants, this is why I come here, when I am not teaching." Mei commented as she helped herself to one. "It reminds me of a bakery by my University in France."

"You went to University in France?" I asked.

"Yes, in Caan." Mei replied, as she covered her mouth, chewing.

"I've been to Caan, loved it there." I commented.

"Really?" Mei said, surprised. Her eyes grew large in disbelief.

This woman was amazing as she was both exotic Vietnamese and sophisticated French, I had to know more about her.

We spoke for a while about Caan and the Normandy Region of France. The coffee and croissants were really good.

"Rick, are you a reporter?" She asked.

"No," I smiled. I was well outside of the zone in which the U.S. Military was allowed to travel, so the obvious answer was not obvious.

"Are you CIA?" She asked, leaning close in to whisper.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "You said earlier, I speak Vietnamese like a hill person. Well, that is because that is where I learned to speak Vietnamese." I smiled.

"Special Forces." She commented. I could not read her face.

"Yes, Special Forces, trying to find the next step in my life." I explained.

"What so you think about the war?" She asked.

There it was, the big question. The question that would determine if we spent more time together or we parted ways now. Mei was intelligent and I knew I couldn't bullshit her, nor would I want to, so I told her what I thought.

"I think the war is crap." I stated. A surprised look crossed her face. "Idiots are struggling to control this country and the people are suffering. We are just trying to help people defend themselves, so they are no longer abused by anyone."

"What about the bombings?" She asked. Apparently, my answer wasn't enough.

"The bombings are awful, but so are the massacres when the Viet Cong go into a village and murder everyone." I paused to wipe my mouth. "Like I said, the people are in the middle of a stupid power struggle and just want to be left alone."

Mei had been watching my face as I spoke and then took a moment to refill her coffee as she thought about my words. She then brought her clothe napkin to her face for an oddly long period of time. It looked for a moment as if she was about cry, which I thought was odd. After she composed herself, she continued.

"Why are you here?" She asked.

"To help people." I replied. I had been anticipating the question.

"How do you help them being a Soldier?" She asked.

"I'm a Special Forces Medic, which is pretty close to being a bush doctor." I answered. "I provide medicine, deliver babies and patch up wounded civilians, so they can return to their families and plant their crops."

Mei smiled at me.

"A care giver." She commented. She again rested her hand on mine. I could tell she had been impressed and we were sharing another moment.

"At times," I said. I wanted her to know that I wasn't running around like Florence Nightingale and sometimes I had to pull the trigger and drop mortar rounds too.

"How are you here in Thủ Dầu Một? This area is off limits to military personnel." She asked.

"I'm on leave and I am here as a regular U.S. Citizen." I explained.

"You live dangerously, Rick." She said, looking around cautiously.

"I understand what you are saying, but I can take care of myself to an extent." I replied. "And I'm not important enough to worry about."

"Rick, let's get you out of here and get you somewhere safe." Mei stated, a bit of panic entering her voice.

"Mei, this hotel is frequented by plenty of ex-pats. I should be fine here." I said, trying to reassure her.

"Rick, please, I can take you to my home and you will be safe there." She said, pleading now. She was holding both of my hands to emphasize her argument. "Why did you come here anyway?" She asked, now seeming confused that I would be here in the first place, exposing myself to unnecessary danger.

"I am looking for a new place to live my life after I leave the military. I thought I would look around Viet Nam to start." I explained.

"You're not back going to your home?" She asked, confused.

"No, I can't return to my disaster of a marriage or the United States for that matter." I stated.

"You do not love your country anymore?" She asked.

"I love my country very much, but I will not let my wife take advantage of me or my position in the military." I said. "If I return and divorce her, she will be entitled to child support for a child that isn't mine. So, I am planning on simply not going back. My time in the Army is over in a year and I will just not return."

"Oh," was all that Mei said. I am sure she had spent most of her life hearing about the great many things that the United States was and for someone to be willing to give it up, my issues must be pretty serious.

We sat in silence for some time as Mei thought about what I had said.

"What do you think will happen to South Viet Nam?" She asked, breaking the silence.

"When the US leaves, I don't know how long the South will last." I stated honestly.

"I agree, there is too much corruption in the South for it to stand." Mei commented, her eyes casting about in thought.

Another silence fell over our conversation again. The only sound was fighter jets passing overhead as they headed north.

"Let's get you away from here." Mei said, finally. Placing her hand on mine.

"You are not going to give up, are you?" I commented.

"No," Mei replied.

"How do I know you are not part of the Viet Cong, trying to kidnap me?" I asked. Somewhat teasing, somewhat serious. I did have a smirk on my face. Her eye movement or lack of it and the hurt expression on her face, gave me my answer.

"Rick, I'm trying to protect you from yourself." She said, insistently. Her voice a harsh accusatory whisper. "Go to your room and pack. I will remain here and when you come down we will leave together, after I get a taxi. Don't check out. I will take care of that later." She instructed me.

Her instructions to me reinforced how serious she was and how serious the situation could potentially be for me.

I got up from the table, went to my room, packed and was back out in a few minutes. I tucked Browning Hi-Power into my waistband. I stood at the top of the stairs in the lobby, out of sight of the front desk. I could see Mei sitting at our table on the patio, at the cafe out front.

She saw me as soon as I arrived at the top of the stairs and signaled for me to stop. She stood and paid the maître de for 'brunch' and then asked the doorman to hail a taxi. She signaled me to follow her.

She was the height of elegance as she got into the taxi wearing her Áo dài. I was not, as I barreled in behind her with my luggage.

"Go, go, go!" She shouted to the driver, as the doorman held the door open and tried to grab for me.

The people at the front desk had run out, thinking I was skipping out on my bill and were yelling at the doorman to stop me.

The taxi took off, gambling that a pretty good tip was on his way, if he cooperated with his passengers, as opposed to a simple 'thank you' he may get from the hotel.

We were quickly away from the hotel and Mei rattled off her address to the taxi driver.

She barked a few additional instructions to the driver that seemed to take us a more circuitous route to her home.

We stopped in front of a gated home and quickly exited the taxi. She insisted on paying and gave the taxi driver instructions that I assume were to additionally prevent anyone from figuring out where we had been dropped off.

She produced an ancient skeleton key from her purse and unlocked the walk-in portion of the gate. Inside, we were met by what I thought was her houseman. He looked on me with disapproving eyes.

"You know for an Asian, that is supposed to keep their emotions hidden, he is failing miserably." I commented to Mei. She smiled in response, as she continued to lead me through the courtyard.

"For an American that assumes no one speaks English, you are failing too." The man replied.

I turned to look at him a smile on my face.

"Rick Turner, my apologies." I said offering my hand. The man looked at my hand and up at my face.

"Hong Van Ho," He said with a smile, offer his hand. We shook.

"My uncle disapproves of me bringing a white man home. The French half of the family has not been nice to the Vietnamese half." Mei explained.

"Well, good thing I'm not French." I said, to Ho, smiling at him.

He smiled back and gave me a wink.

I caught up with Mei as she led me through the house, to the room she planned on offering me.

"After you get settled in, meet me down the hall. I'll make us some tea." Mei said, invitingly.

"If it isn't too much trouble, coffee please. I'm not much of a tea drinker." I asked, apologetically.

"Sure, no problem." Mei commented. She turned away with a lingering smile and I watched as the Áo dài hugged her rear end as she walked away. She looked back at me to see if I was watching and smiled at me as she rounded the corner.

I unpacked my luggage, unsure why I was here and how long I was going to stay. I pulled the Browning Hi-Power from my waistband, unloaded the round from the chamber, put the round in the magazine, put the magazine back in the pistol and put the pistol under my pillow. I figured I would be reasonably safe here, I hoped.

I changed my shirt and went to join Mei in the lounge.

Somehow, she had found time to change, do her makeup and make coffee and tea. There was also a tray of cookies and crackers on the service cart that she had brought into the lounge.

I sat in a comfortable chair on one side of the room and was met with a cute pout from Mei.

"Come here." Mei asked, signaling the seat next to her on the overstuffed couch.

She was now wearing a Áo dài halter top, which did not accommodate a bra, not that she needed one. I have no idea how old Mei was because she had one of those age defying faces where she would remain ageless until the day she died. She was the perfect blend of Euro-Asian feminine attributes. She had removed her pants, so her legs, up to her thigh, appeared as she moved her to accommodate me on the couch.

As I sat, all I wanted to do was kiss her and hold her naked body next to mine. But I wanted to know why I was here first.

"Mei, why was it so important to get me out of the hotel?" I asked.

"Rick, the head clerk at the front desk is an informant for the Viet Cong. He may actually be an NVA Officer sent here as a spy. I think what probably would have happened to you, is that when you were getting ready to check out, they would have delayed you at the front desk until they got someone driving one of their taxis to grab you and take you prisoner." Mei speculated. The idea that the guy at the front desk was an enemy was enough to convince me. I nodded my acknowledgement and understanding.

"Thank you, Mei. I really appreciate what you have done for me. I never would have seen it coming. It may have been an interesting gunfight, but I am sure I would have eventually lost." I speculated. I smiled at Mei. She looked confused, she had no idea I had a gun.

"You are welcome to stay as long as you want." Mei said.

"I thank you, but when the time comes. How do I get out of here?" I asked. My plans to take a taxi were shot, because obviously the enemy knew I was in the area and would be looking for me. We had however travelled at least 5 miles to the northeast by my estimation and in a city this big, that was a long way, so I should be relatively safe.

"Oh, that will be easy. I will just call a taxi to the house and take to you the airbase in Saigon." She said, as a matter of fact.

"Alright, but until that time. I'm your prisoner here?" I asked, with a smile.

"Is that really so bad?" She replied.

She leaned forward and kissed me, our first kiss and it was magical. For me, at least.

She surprised me when her tongue poked my lips to gain access. I was still trying to be a gentleman, but it appeared that this is not what the lady wanted. Our tongues caressed each other's as well as each other's lips. Mei wrestled with the buttons of my shirt, which really surprised me.

Her leg moved to touch mine and she moved up and down in a way that was very inviting. My hands had been on her shoulders, holding her and now I moved them down to her waist, which was bare because of the Áo dài halter top.