“Em. Not really. I don’t really understand American football yet to follow it.” Jason paused when he noticed the commander frown. “That’s not what you meant is it, Sir?”
“No, Jason. I meant international news matters, such as the Russian spaceship and the US Apollo linking up in space or the situation in Vietnam,” the commander asked, closely watching the boy. Jason shrugged. “Did you know the British ship HMS Hermes is off the Vietnam waters?”
“Yes, Sir. I mean, no, Sir. I didn’t know where it was but I know the Hermes. That’s my father's ship. He's the ship's Second Lieutenant. Sir.” Jason paused. He noticed the commander shift awkwardly in his seat and pretend to re-light his pipe. “Is my Dad okay?” Jason’s voice fell off.
“Yes is the straight forward answer. The North Vietnamese have taken him and nine other men prisoner. He was working for the United Nations on a small cruiser, mostly monitoring events. He and three other British naval personnel where taken along with three French personnel and three journalists.”
Jason got up and paced up and down trying to think. “Where is he? Is he safe? Why is he a prisoner? The British aren't at war with the Vietcong. What is the Admiralty doing to release him?”
“Jason, I don’t know the answers. The American government is also working on it. One of the journalists is American. The Vietnamese have not yet given any demands. They have just accused them of spying.”
“He’s in the Royal Navy. What was he doing working for the United Nations?” Jason asked.
“The United Nations is an organization made up from representatives from armed forces around the world. I suspect he and others were instructed to work alongside the French and any other country to help. They do a lot of good. They're peacekeepers. Never before in its twenty-year history has anyone working as a United Nations representative been held before. The world community strongly condemns such action.”
“Thank you for the information, Sir,” Jason said stiffly before clicking his boot heels and leaving the room feeling sick to his stomach. He was worried. Alex Hannity and others had told them about the Vietcong prisons. They had witnessed some of the American POW’s return to the airbase. Many looked emaciated, too weak to walk more than a few paces. Tex and Jason thought one looked too old to be a prisoner of war. The man looked about sixty. They later found out he was only aged twenty-nine but was held in a Vietnamese prison for three years.
Tex heard the news and skipped the last lesson to find Jason. He found him in the gym attacking a boxing punch bag. Jason was stripped to the waist. He had taken off his shoes and socks and was kicking and punching the bag for all he was worth. Jason’s knuckles had split open. The bag had his blood on the front of it where he had been pounding it.
“Wow, Limey I think you killed him,” Tex joked. Jason paused and looked at his knuckles. He threw one last punch at the bag. “Come on man, let’s go and get your hands seen to. I heard about your father. I’m sure he’ll be okay if he's as tough as you.”
Jason nodded and followed Tex who took him to the sick bay where the nurse treated his hands. The next twenty-four hours passed like a blur to Jason. He wasn’t given any more news. He watched the TV, hoping to get some news but nothing new was reported. Out of options, he decided to call his father's Uncle Stewart.
“Steed residence,” Stewart Steed answered.
“Uncle Stewart, it's Jason.”
“Jason dear boy. My favourite second nephew.”
“I’m your only second nephew.”
“I was just thinking about you. I expect you heard the news. Don’t worry ,your father is a Steed. We're a tough family.”
“I can’t find out anything. He’s been a prisoner for two days now. Why isn’t the British Government sending in troops to rescue them? The Hermes is right there.”
“It’s not that simple, son. The United Nations is dealing with it. They are negotiating, but the demands are too high.”
“What demands? Dad and the others were just observing, making sure the civilians didn’t get massacred.”
“The Vietnamese have made demands. I don’t know what they are, but the Prime Minister said they are unacceptable. The French President has said the same thing. For now, the international community has condemned the Vietnamese, but nothing has been done yet. Son, there is nothing you can do. Please try to relax. Your father will be just fine. You concentrate on showing those Yankees a thing or two on how to be a good cadet.”
Jason felt a little better after talking to Uncle Stewart. He was not close to him and found him stuck up, but at a time when he needed to talk to someone he was there. There was something else about him Jason found harder to place. A certain guarded quality in his voice, a sense of tension. Jason had a terrible thought. If his father was killed, whom would he have to live with? It would be a choice between his uncle and his mother’s parents in Scotland. He thought about it and thought his grandparents in Scotland would be better, and then he cursed at himself for thinking about his father dying.
*
Jason discovered he had gained an unwanted celebrity status at the academy. All the students and teachers alike spoke about the first year boy from Britain whose father was one of the prisoners. At almost every class the teacher would ask him how he was holding up. A television news crew had heard the story that one of the British officers held prisoner had a son who was a student at the academy. They were denied access, but ran a story from outside the gates anyway, although they never knew the name of the student or his father.
A week flashed by. The allied governments refused to give into demands from the Vietnamese. The United Nations tried in vain to keep talks going and free the ten men. The Vietnamese knew the Americans would not step foot on Vietnam again. They had seen the news reports of Americans marching on the streets demanding an end to the war. Now it was ended, America was not in the mood to start all over again with Vietnam. The French were in the same situation; they had been at war with Vietnam in the early 1960s and did not want a repeat. The British were more bullish, but after seeing the Americans fail knew they would never get support from the public to launch an assault. The only thing left was a diplomatic solution.
Jason was in the common room after dinner with around twenty other boys watching the news. A news headline was announced half way through the scheduled news program. The Vietnamese had announced that unless the foreign governments agreed to their demands they would start executing the prisoners. They gave ten days. After that deadline, one prisoner would be shot every day.
All eyes in the room fell on Jason. He sat staring at the TV not sure how to react. He felt like crying, but felt sick at the same time and then angry, very angry. He left the common room to use the phone. He called George Young at his home a woman answered the phone.
“This had better be good. It’s two in the morning,” A woman’s voice answered.
“Hello Jean, its Jason. Sorry if I woke you.” Jean Young knew Jason well; they had spent time together in Spain with George and Jean's son, Martin. Jason had saved both Jean and Martin's life.
“Jason. Hello pet, I’m so sorry to hear about your father. I’m sure they will get him out safely.”
“Thanks Jean. I need to speak to George,” Jason said. George had followed his wife down the stairs he suspected the call was for him anyway.
“Jason son, how the bloody hell are you?” George asked.
“Not good George. What are they doing about getting my dad out? It’s just been on the news that in ten days they are going to start executing them.” Jason felt his voice shaking. He fought off his tears.
George sighed. “I know, son. They're doing everything they can. I’m sure it won’t come to that.”
“What are the demands what do they want?” Jason cursed.
“I don’t know, son—” Before he could continue, Jason interrupted.
“Find out. I need to know, George. My dad has lots of money. If they want that they can have it.”
“It won’t be mon
ey. Besides, if it was you can bet it would be millions, and the British Government would erm, well maybe not.”
“Would not what?”
“Well, we don’t give into demands to kidnappers for money, else every bloody tourist would get kidnapped for money. I'll try and find out.”
“Don’t try, George. Find out. You're the head of SYUI; you know the top people in the admiralty, MI6, MI5. I will call tomorrow. Please try and find out.” Jason hung up and called Scott. It was six rings before it was answered.
He first spoke to Scott's father, Doctor Turner, before Scott came to the phone.
“Jase mate. How are you?” Scott asked.
“Not good. Did you hear what’s happening with my dad?” Jason said. “Oh your voice has broken. You sound cool.”
“Yeah, so do you. I heard about your dad and the new deadlines/ I’m sure it won't come to that.”
“What do you expect me to do, just sit around and wait and do nothing?”
“Well, there isn’t much you can do.” Scott paused. “You do know that not even you can help him.”
“I’ll call Catherine’s Mum, maybe she can help.”
“If she could have she would have. She may be the queen, but even she can’t interfere with foreign governments.”
“This is bull. I thought you were my best friend!” Jason screamed and slammed down the phone. He walked back to his room with a large black cloud over him. After five minutes he went back to the phone and called Scott back. This time it was picked up on the first ring.
“Apology accepted,” Scott answered without being prompted.
“Yeah, sorry mate. I feel so helpless,” Jason said. They spoke for another fifteen minutes. He felt better for calling him back but after talking to everyone he never got any further. When he returned to his room, Tex was already in his bunk asleep. Jason climbed into his bed and lay with his eyes open, looking at the ceiling. His mind was racing, he was not in the slightest bit sleepy. It would take him another five hours before he eventually fell asleep.
Chapter Fifteen
It was Saturday. Although the students had no schoolwork, they did have assault course training in the morning. Jason sat it out. He went into the town center and bought every newspaper he could. He was desperate for news. He glanced at each paper, trying to find new information. His eyes darted across the pages, searching for some hope. He ran back to the academy and watched the TV news. It mentioned in a small segment noting that the prisoners had only nine days left before the threatened executions started.
He called George Young again. George had heard that the Vietnamese government wanted the trade sanctions imposed on them by the US lifted. In addition, they ere demanding compensation for the losses caused by the war and an apology from the United States President. Jason knew that would never happen. George tried to reassure him that the United Nations would win the Vietnamese over with talks, but Jason wasn’t so confident.
George had heard that the ten prisoners were being held at a secret prison camp near Tay Ninh. The name meant nothing to Jason, but at least it was the name of the place where his father was being held. He dressed in his karate gee and used his pass to get into the air base. The guards assumed he was going to practice karate with some of the security staff again.
Once inside the airbase, Jason made his way to the storage hangers. They were full of used supplies that had been brought back from the Vietnam War—uniforms, weapons, and even some Jeeps. He searched through wooden trunks and footlockers; he was delighted when he came across combat knives, guns, belts, helmets, grenades, maps, and compasses. He collected some maps and hid them under his Jacket.
Back in his room, Jason went through the collection of maps. Tex walked back in and startled him. Jason nodded and carried on looking at the maps. Tex joined him and eventually asked. “What are you looking for Limey? Where they're holding your father?”
“I just want to see where the prison camp is. It makes me feel closer to him,” Jason said without looking up. He continued to look over the maps. He made notes on a small notebook. Tex thought it was a little weird and left him to his maps and his notes.
Jason put his boots and some clothing in a backpack. He made up a story and told Tex he was going back to the airbase for more karate training. Tex had no reason to doubt him, although Jason did feel guilty for lying to him. In a hanger he changed into his camouflage uniform. He packed some M67 grenades, a combat knife, maps, a compass, a flask, and water purification tablets. He picked up a M1911 pistol. It felt cold in his hand. The safety was on and it was loaded. He packed it in his belt with two full clips on ammunition.
The equipment was mostly used. Some even had a little mud and dirt it. The M1911 had some rust, but he hoped he would not have to use it. He wondered who had previously used it and if anyone had been injured or even killed by it.
He crept outside the hanger and waited to make his move. Darkness had spread across the airbase. There was partial light from the moon as it shone its beam across the airfield, casting great shadows. Jason felt alert. He had no real plan, he just knew he had to try and do something, and anything was better than nothing.
*
Raymond Steed peered through the rusted bars; he squeezed the front of his face through, trying to gasp some breaths of fresh air. The air in the prison cell was putrid, a mix of stagnant body odour, urine, and excrement. The ten men were only given a bottle of water and partly rotted mangos for the last two days. They were not given clean clothing, bedding. or even a toilet; they used a corner of the cell. One of the French naval officers had managed to find a small stick so they could push the excrement away from the square cell. It meant they didn’t have to stand in it.
Ray pulled on the bars in anger; he believed that the British would be coming at any moment to rescue them. He was the highest-ranking officer and tried to put on a brave face for the sake of the others, but deep down inside, he was as depressed as they were. The cell was too small for the ten men. When they all tried to sleep, there was barely enough room for all ten to lie down.
The make shift squalid prison was three miles east of Tay Ninh; it was a low-lying area of swampland. The ten strong United Nations team had no idea of their location. They were flown in by helicopter and dropped off. After a three-mile hike under gunpoint, they arrived at the prison. The American journalist, Carl Bradley, nicknamed it Costa Del Pig Sty. His humour helped keep the men amused.
The prison had been closed two years ago while the war was still raging due to its close location to the Americans. It was now over grown with vegetation. It was a perfect secret location for the Vietcong to keep the prisoners.
The Vietnamese Communist Party leader, Le Duan, knew all too well that the demands he put in place for the ten captives would never get met. His objective was to inflict pain on the Western governments and teach them a lesson for interfering in the Vietnamese civil war.
Le Duan had placed the Vietnam War veteran, General Chow, in charge of the prisoners. Chow was a ruthless Vietcong officer. During the war, he had been head of two prison camps in his region. Some of the US prisoners were subjected to the most barbaric tortures known to mankind.
US President Ford and British Prime Minister Harold Wilson were deeply concerned but felt hopeless and knew the fate of the ten captives. When they heard that General Chow was in charge of the prisoners, they feared the worse. Stories were still surfacing from Americans who were tortured, starved to death, and killed if they would not denounce the United States.
*
Jason watched the ground crew fuel the aircraft. The four-man crew gathered in an office sharing jokes. He noticed the C-9B Skytrain's side cargo door was still open. He made his move. He ducked down and raced across the airfield to the aircraft, leapt up inside, and looked for a suitable hiding place. There weren’t many places to hide. It wasn’t like a commercial aircraft. It had just five rows of seats. The rest of the plane was open and used for cargo. Above the five rows of seat
s he noticed overhead lockers. He found one stuffed with blankets. He took some out to make room and hid them under a seat, then he climbed up and closed the door after checking he would be able to open it himself.
An hour later the aircraft took off. It was cramped and he thought the aircraft was quite cold. He was glad he had chosen a locker with blankets. The aircraft was empty. Its mission was to fly to Pearl Harbor in Hawaii. There it would refuel, the pilots would change, and it would then fly to U-Tapao Pattaya International Airport in Thailand. On arrival in Thailand, it would be loaded with used military equipment left over from the war and flown back to the US.
Jason stayed where he was for the entire nineteen-hour flight. He had two bottles of water with him and some beef jerky. After drinking the water one of the empty bottles came in handy when he needed it. His legs were painful towards the end of the flight. He desperately wanted to stretch them. He ignored the pain and thought of his father. If his calculations were correct, they now had just six days left before the deadline.
While the aircraft was landing in Thailand, he wondered what would be happening at the academy when Tex reported him missing. He was also unsure if an agreement had been made by the United Nations and Vietnam. Maybe his father had been released.
The crew left the aircraft and headed straight for the mess hall for some food and drinks. Slowly, Jason crept out of his hiding place. He found it painful to stand. His legs had been cramped for such a long time. The next thing he noticed was the humidity. The doors were still open on the aircraft. He found himself starting to sweat instantly.
It was dark on the airfield and raining heavily. Jason took advantage of it and ran from the plane with his backpack. He stopped at the side of a large hanger and tried to take in his surroundings. To his left was a larger well-lit area. It looked like the main airport. He assumed he was in the military section of the airport. US Army Jeeps, M35 Trucks ,and crate upon crate of weapons and other material were stored next to the hanger. In just a few minutes he was soaked through. The rain was warm and heavy. He now knew why the maps where all covered in plastic.