May 3 1954, Hue
A slightly built man sat across the table from a middle aged man wearing the insignia of a French General. Blue grey haze filled the room, as both men savoured their Gauloise’s.
The Frenchman tapped his fingers on the desk and exhaled, “So your Highness,” gesturing at the two pictures, “which one is your choice?”
“I have worked with both of them, one a former Prime Minister – aloof and proud. Comports himself as the mandarin he once was. The other, a doctor, nationalist and former guerilla against the Japanese and French. I know that you are aware of his martial abilities General.”
An American voice, tinged with a slight French accent, joined the conversation. “Now Gents, Uncle Sam wants democracy to flourish as a bulwark against Communism. Failing that… an anti communist will suffice. But for this to work your choice must be seen as a legitimate nationalist to counteract the popularity of Uncle Ho.”
“Well if that is the main criterion,” he pushed the photo forward, “than him.”
June 7 1954, Tan Son Nhut Airport
Sous Lieutenant Ngo Hoc stood with the tip of his sword lightly resting against his right shoulder, waiting for the engines of the DC – 6 to stop. Sweat beaded across his face, with his peaked cap providing minimal comfort from the glare of the afternoon sun.
The door was opened and the stairs were lowered by the stewards. The band began to play and the honour guard snapped to attention. At the top of the stairs the new Prime Minister paused gazing out over the tarmac.
“Guard… Pre – sent arms,” thundered Sous Lieutenant Ngo Hoc as hands cracked onto rifles in salute.
As he descended the stairs, a smile crossed the face of the Prime Minister Dr Phan Quang Dan.
A slightly built man sat across the table from a middle aged man wearing the insignia of a French General. Blue grey haze filled the room, as both men savoured their Gauloise’s.
The Frenchman tapped his fingers on the desk and exhaled, “So your Highness,” gesturing at the two pictures, “which one is your choice?”
“I have worked with both of them, one a former Prime Minister – aloof and proud. Comports himself as the mandarin he once was. The other, a doctor, nationalist and former guerilla against the Japanese and French. I know that you are aware of his martial abilities General.”
An American voice, tinged with a slight French accent, joined the conversation. “Now Gents, Uncle Sam wants democracy to flourish as a bulwark against Communism. Failing that… an anti communist will suffice. But for this to work your choice must be seen as a legitimate nationalist to counteract the popularity of Uncle Ho.”
“Well if that is the main criterion,” he pushed the photo forward, “than him.”
June 7 1954, Tan Son Nhut Airport
Sous Lieutenant Ngo Hoc stood with the tip of his sword lightly resting against his right shoulder, waiting for the engines of the DC – 6 to stop. Sweat beaded across his face, with his peaked cap providing minimal comfort from the glare of the afternoon sun.
The door was opened and the stairs were lowered by the stewards. The band began to play and the honour guard snapped to attention. At the top of the stairs the new Prime Minister paused gazing out over the tarmac.
“Guard… Pre – sent arms,” thundered Sous Lieutenant Ngo Hoc as hands cracked onto rifles in salute.
As he descended the stairs, a smile crossed the face of the Prime Minister Dr Phan Quang Dan.
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