We're a Wonderful Wife Ch. 06

"Lanh?" She didn't respond. "Lanh?"

---------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Lanh,

I can only imagine how difficult it is for you, but please, I beg you, you haven't been there two months yet, give it some more time. You need to concentrate on getting your European driver's license so you can get out more. Have you thought of getting a bicycle? If base is only three and a half miles away, you can do that in a matter of minutes on a bike and go shopping and hang out with Americans.

All I can say is to hold on, Kim-ly has applied for her passport, she can be there in a day after she receives it, until then keep asking Don to take you places, go for walks, keep busy! I beg you, don't come home! Of course, we will welcome you, but what are you going to do, divorce Don? It will kill him; it will kill you both.

Please, think this through

Love

Tam

---------------------------------------------------------------

Don put the letter down, his stomach twisted up in a knot, he didn't think he could feel so horrible. He was driving himself crazy trying to make Lanh happy, but all she wanted to do was sit in front of the window and look out on the street. Spring in this section of Germany was cool, cloudy, and rainy. Perfect for wine grapes, horrible for lonely young wives. If going home would make her happy, then he'll send her home, but they don't have the money.

"I'm sorry, but this was sitting out, I didn't know if you wanted me to read it or not..." his voice faded off into silence.

Lanh didn't even look at him, she just shrugged. "It doesn't matter..."

"Just tell me what I can do to make you feel better," he pleaded. He's tried everything, flowers and candy, stuffed toys, drives through the area, walking tours of great German architecture like the cathedral in Köln. She ignored it all. When he reached out to her at night she froze and refused to acknowledge his touch. The only question she answered positively was when he asked her if she wanted him to sleep somewhere else, so now he lies on the couch at night.

"Baby," he said sadly one afternoon. Another morning of being ignored by the love of his life was tearing at his stomach. "I know what to do, I can..."

She didn't even turn to face him, "There's nothing you can do."

"Lanh, why won't you even look at me?" She just shrugged and continued to look out the window. "I have to go to work," he muttered. He knew exactly what he must do now.

"Fine. Go."

~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~

"Airman Campbell, I want to have a word with you," said Chief Master Sergeant Brown, beckoning Don into his office with a crooked finger. Chief Brown was the highest-ranking enlisted man in the squadron and an imposing figure. Tall, rail thin, hair trimmed tight, severe bushy mustache trimmed to within a millimeter of USAF requirements, Don thought of him as a tall skinny version of Mr. Wilson from Dennis the Menace. He was a chief's chief. He could use the English language like a sledgehammer when investigating a maintenance mishap on one of HIS aircraft, and a nod from him was high praise. Rumor had it that he will only smile when the last commie is dead.

Don stood in front of The Chief and tried not to shake, he passed an eval yesterday by the skin of his teeth and maybe the chief wants to take a bite out of his ass? "Campbell, on May seventeenth there will be a dinner or some damn thing at the Top Three Club and they're going to give me a plaque. I need a fourth for bridge so to speak."

"C-congratulations chief..."

"No, Airman Campbell, congratulations go to you. I've been keeping an eye on you, and you're doing a damn fine job. Your reward is to spend an evening with me."

"B-b-but sir, that's our first wedding anniversary, Lanh and I had made plans..." Actually, Don was formulating a plan, the USAF would fly Lanh home if he did it.

"Excellent! Your plans are to bring her along! It's the top three dining out, so make sure your uniform is in tip-top shape, semi-formal, and get your bride something nice to wear."

"But uhh..."

"That's ok Airman, you can thank me later. See you Friday evening, nineteen hundred sharp! There's a penalty for being late, and a penalty for a clip-on bowtie, oh, and it's a squadron tradition to wear red socks to a dining in."

"Yes chief, but my wife..."

"Of course, there will be a very special gift for your wife, it's important she be there, so don't let me down, son."

Don sighed in defeat, "Yes chief."

The chief smiled under his bushy mustache. "Good! Utter capitulation. That's the spirit airman! By the way, bring a copy of your book, I have a need to peruse it."

"My book chief?"

"Yes, a book was published with your name on it, am I wrong?"

"No chief."

"No chief, there's no book or no chief, you're not wrong. What is it airman?"

"Uh... uh... No chief, you're not wrong. We just got a case of copies from the publisher."

"Outstanding, a complimentary copy would be in order, am I right Airman?"

"Yes chief."

Don was all the way home that evening when it struck him, how did the Chief know about the book?

How is Lanh going to take this? A military function on their wedding anniversary. Don had originally asked her to go out to a gasthaus for dinner that night, and as usual she refused, but honestly, he was considering ending this gut-wrenching misery she was putting him through. He was beginning to consider an "accidental" fall from the apartment roof to the stone driveway below. Lanh would have $250,000 in serviceman's life insurance and a ticket home, and he would atone for putting her through this nightmare. He'll ask her about the party, if she says yes, maybe she'll be happy, if no, then a short trip off the roof and he's gone. That's it, she goes home, he's made up for making her sad, everyone will be happy.

Don opened the apartment door slowly, Lanh was sitting, looking out the window at the rain. Don's stomach was knotted up in terror, he was horrified to see the woman he loved so depressed. She's probably not even going to care if he dies. Probably be happier, it's his fault she's here. "Lanh? Honey? Em yêu?"

"What." She didn't turn her head to look at him, she was still wearing her pajamas.

"On Friday evening the chief kind of ordered me to accompany you to a fancy dining out. It's a big-time deal, everyone in their dress blues, everyone with their wives all dressed up." She didn't move. "He said that he has an important gift for you." She still didn't move. "It's on Friday at the Top Three club."

Lanh looked in his direction, slightly, not directly at him. "Top three? I heard they have good food there." She returned to watching the rain falling. "I need something nice to wear."

The next day Don dropped Lanh off at a fancy German woman's clothing store in Bitburg a large town 10 miles east of Spangdahlem, she went in alone and he waited in the car for her to return. In the store she met an Asian who was working there, she spoke passable English, but she was born and raised in Germany. Lanh didn't realize that there was native born German Asians here and soon Gundi was helping Lanh pick out a dress. Shopping seemed to lighten Lanh's mood a little bit, at least enough for Don to postpone his climb to the roof.

On Friday night Don and Lanh strolled into the NCO club, a club that Don was not welcome in because he was below the minimum required rank, there was an All Ranks Club for airmen such as Don. They walked up to a side room called the Top Three Club, a club reserved for Master Sergeants, Senior Master Sergeants, and Chief Master Sergeants, a requirement that he fell four stripes short. His uniform was immaculate, standard dress blue jacket and slacks but instead of a light blue shirt and straight dark blue tie, he wore a white shirt with black bow tie, a tie he practiced for two days to master. And while every person in uniform wore six, seven or eight stripes, Don wore two.

Lanh was dressed in a beautiful red full-length gown, backless, and the neckline plunged deep enough to cause a scandal if she hadn't used fashion tape to hold it over her breasts. Her long, luxurious hair was pulled back into a very tight braid, giving her a "don't fuck with me" look about her. When Don announced his name to the steward at the door of the Top Three Club, he and Lanh were ushered into the bar room. Don handed his car keys to the bar tender and in return was handed a glass of Spätlese for Lanh and a gin and tonic for himself.

Don looked around in terror, he knew a few of the people there, all were high power NCOs in his squadron, but he didn't see the chief. His stomach twisted in knots; I don't belong here he thought. Luckily, Don and Lanh were ignored, and Lanh started a love affair with Spätlese, a sweet white German wine that originates right outside of the base fence.

Just then a bell rang calling the assembled NCOs and their wives and two high ranking female NCOs who brought their husbands, to dinner, Chief Brown walked up to Lanh and offered her his arm. "You must be Lanh Campbell; may I escort you to our table?" Don looked at the chief in terror, Chief Brown had so many ribbons that Don couldn't begin to count. The top ribbon, the most important, was the Air Medal, oh crap, Chief Brown is a certified hero! He also wore two sets of wings, command crew member and jump wings. Don had one single ribbon nicknamed "The Battle of San Antonio" ribbon, it signified that he graduated Basic Training. Chief Brown led Lanh and Don to their table where they sat and sipped their drinks. The chief was charming to Lanh. "You may call me Royce," he smiled, then he turned to Don and said sternly, "And you may not."

Both embarrassed and terrified, Lanh giggled and said, "Is funny," her vocabulary starting to devolve.

"This is quite the tome!" Chief Brown said as he flipped through their book "Journey to Freedom." He looked at Lanh, "Your family comes from Bướm?" He mentioned the small hamlet outside of Saigon. "I've been in that area."

"Yes, many families leave..." she said softly.

"Why'd you do this Airman? It's quite a story."

"I started it in high school as a literature assignment..." Don's voice started to taper off, then he said to himself "no guts, no glory," and he looked the chief in the eye. "Our teacher was being a real bitch to Lanh because of her race, so this story was a way of shoving it up her ass."

Chief Brown chuckled, "literary mayhem, I like that. Go on airman."

"It suddenly became a gift to Lanh, it's the story of her family," said Don. "It's how I met and fell in love with my in-laws; I did hours of interviews with her relatives."

"I work it more when he go basic and tech school... our school publish..." she went quiet as her English language skills disintegrated under Chief Brown's glare.

"It's just a term paper..." Don said softly.

"Damnit son, I have a masters in ferroequinology and one in personnel management, and my papers were nothing like this!" Chief Brown was nearly shouting. "This stuff is good; you got the facts but you also put a heart to a very nasty time in history." He pulled a pen out of his pocket and handed it to Don. "Now I want you two yahoos to sign my copy, so I make a few bucks off of it on ebay when it becomes a best seller," he added with a wink.

"Yes chief," muttered Don as he started to sign the book.

"Oh, my goodness, I promised you a gift! It completely slipped my mind," smiled Chief Brown, his manner started to soften. He stood up and extended his hand and behind Lanh stepped up an elegant, Asian woman, who appeared to be in her late thirties, maybe early forties. Her hair cascaded down to her shoulders in ebony waves and her bearing showed that she was as iron stern as her husband, yet her smile was cheerful and infectious. She was dressed in a form-flattering full length black dress and stood almost the same height as Lanh. "May I present my wife, Nguyen Lieu Ahn. Annie, this is Nguyen Huong Lanh, and her husband Chet."

"Don."

"Whatever." But the chief actually smiled.

Lanh and Ahn eyed each other up and down then smiled and began chatting in Vietnamese and were soon laughing together, Lanh's musical laugh which had been hidden since she arrived finally sprung free. "Congratulations son," said the Chief to Don, "You just picked up a sister-in-law."

"Just what I need, chief."

"You will be thanking me. In Vietnam, family is everything. The Nguyen family is the largest family in Vietnam and these two may be four thousandths' cousins, but right now they're the only Nguyens in a hundred square miles, which makes them sisters."

"Thank you, chief, it's the first chance she's had to speak Vietnamese with someone since she crossed the pond."

"I should be thanking you Airman, Annie is happier than a pig in shit right now, she has a relative she can talk with, and it's all because of you."

Annie (as Ahn liked to be called) and Lanh immediately became fast friends and chatted the night away as Chief Brown turned his attention to Don, guiding him through the intricacies of a military dinner and the military in general. "Airman, rule number one at these affairs is "No shop talk," so bring something else to talk about, like your book. Bad mouthing another squadron or another base is bad form, but it doesn't violate rule number one.

"What's rule number two?"

"The rest of the rules are nonsense, just play along and keep your uniform clean, it's all in good humor." He then turned deadly serious, "Your book, you have something there. No one gets their first book or paper published, but you did it, and at a high school level? Airman, I want your ass over to the education office at sixteen hundred Monday after work to sign up for everything. Take giggles with you." He indicated Lanh who hadn't stopped laughing since Annie sat down.

"I'm on second shift, chief, roll call is at fifteen hundred." He'd be working on a balky airplane at sixteen hundred or studying. In the USAF, studying never stops, especially when you're working on sophisticated aircraft.

"You were on second shift Airman, report to Staff Sergeant Hinsdale at oh seven hundred on Monday, he's expecting you."

Don's head was spinning, Hinsdale runs a team of maintainers that are the envy of any other F-16 squadron, only the best of the best work for him. "I... I'm honored Chief."

"Son, this ain't no honor, it's tough work. I may be breaking you; I don't know. Keep your nose to the grindstone and make me proud, that's an order."

"I'm not sure if I'm up to it yet chief..."

"Airman! What color are your socks?" Chief Brown's demeanor was suddenly demanding.

"Black, chief." He even tugged up his pants leg to show that they were indeed black.

"Didn't I say it was squadron tradition to wear red socks at a dining in?" he demanded angrily.

"Yes, you did chief, and you also said that this was a dining out," responded Don as calmly as he could.

Chief Brown leaned back and actually smiled. "And that, Airman First Class Campbell, is exactly why I want you working with Hinsdale, you pay attention. Hell, most airmen fresh out of tech school are still showing up late to roll call and can't tell what day it is, you're giving us results, and I intend to cash in on that. None of your peers know the difference between a dining in and a dining out, let alone how to tie a bow tie."

Both a dining in and a dining out are military traditions going back to the British navy. It allows military men and women to dress up in their nicest uniforms, have a dinner together, and have a chance to get to know their fellow unit members, and while it looks like a strict and formal occasion, it's actually a relaxed event with silly rules put in place to make the event fun. The idea is to foster camaraderie and esprit de corps among a unit whose mission is so broad and diverse that most members never get a chance to meet each other. A dining out is similar to a dining in, but a dining in is just for military members of a unit, a dining out allows guests and spouses to attend, and since a young airman rarely gets a chance to attend, it's rare that they would know the difference, or even care.

Pushing his luck, Don added "Thank you for your faith in me Chief, I won't let you down... but isn't this whole conversation shop talk?"

"Yes, it is," the chief growled and stood up. "It appears that I made the right choice after all," he grumbled in mock anger. The penalty for shop talk is to purchase the table a round of drinks. Don chose ginger ale with a cherry, it looks like a whiskey drink, but he decided that he's already had enough to drink if he is poking the tiger before dinner is served, Lanh had more Spätlese and was truly enjoying herself by the time the beef wellington was served. All through dinner, Annie and Lanh were in their own world speaking in rapid fire Vietnamese, laughing and having a wonderful time.

When the dinner and the presentations were over it was another social time, everyone returned to the bar area where Annie filled Lanh's hand with another glass of Spätlese then took her around the room and introduced her to the wives of the top NCO's in the squadron as her new protégé. There were a few Asian women in attendance, Filipino, Korean, and Japanese, but most of the women there were good ol' girls from the heartland of America who were ecstatic that another farm girl had arrived to fill their ranks.

Soon Lanh was known to the most powerful women in the squadron, the wives of the most powerful men in the squadron. The wives have an unofficial rank structure too, and it reflects the rank of their husbands, but their standing also reflects the unofficial ranks of their friends. Being Annie's protégé meant that even though Lanh was the lowest ranking woman in the squadron because of marriage to the lowest ranking man in the squadron, she was one of the most respected because of her relationship with the most powerful "enlisted" woman in the squadron. And Lanh didn't have a clue it was happening.

Don was talking to a Senior Master Sergeant about activities off base when he felt a poke in his arm and he turned to see that it was Lanh. Annie had given Lanh a quick makeover. Her hair was unbraided and combed out and flowing down to her waist again, and now she was wearing scarlet lipstick. It made her look exotic and sexy. This was the first time she tried to initiate a conversation since back in early April. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I didn't know, I didn't realize..."

"Realize what?"

She looked incredibly sad, her sweet face was turned down and her eyes were filled with sorrow. "You talk in your sleep." She looked up at him, "I can't lose you, I'm so sorry, Annie said she would help me..." her words were nearly indecipherable, her accent was so thick.

He leaned over until their foreheads touched "All I ask is that you try, we can get through this together, OK?"

"Ok," she said, and he gave her a little kiss. She hung on his arm for the rest of the evening, sipping wine and meeting the highest-ranking enlisted men and women of the squadron. By the time it was time to go, Lanh was feeling no pain.

"How much wine did you have tonight?" he asked.

Lanh held up four fingers, "Three glasses." She looked at her fingers, shrugged, then said, "Annie says I'm a cheap date, do you think I'm a cheap date?"

"I think you're an exquisite date," he turned to the bartender to get his car keys and the bartender handed him a fob with a single key hanging from it. "These aren't my car keys," Don complained.

Lanh pointed at Don, "He thinks I'm a squizit," she slurred to the bartender.

"That's from Annie Brown, she says Happy Anniversary," smiled the bar tender. Don looked at the key fob and it said VOQ Room #1. VOQ is the Visiting Officers Quarters, also known as the base hotel, and room number one is reserved for VIPs.