The Girl Who Ran With Black Tigers

This is an excerpt from the book I wrote about our time in Vietnam towards the end of the war: The Girl Who Ran With Black Tigers. End of chapter four and the beginning of Marlyne on the scene.

Far away from the Mekong Delta, in Saigon, a young woman with blonde hair stepped out of the Majestic Hotel, situated just in front of the Saigon River. Casually dressed in blue jeans and a white T-shirt and holding a tennis racket under her arm, she glanced at her watch. She estimated how much time she had before curfew. Enough time for a game of tennis, grab a bite to eat and meet some people. The blonde girl hailed one of the blue and pale yellow taxis.

‘To the Cercle Sportive please…’

This is starting to bore me silly, she thought, looking out the window of the small ageing Renault 4CV as she watched the busy, polluted streets glide by. The taxi waited for the traffic to pass, then took a left turn in front of the Continental Palace Hotel onto Le Loy Street. Never been in there she thought, it’s big; wonder what kind of people stay in that lovely colonial building.

Saigon - Honda city - I've been here for over three months now, and all I’ve seen is Saigon. Nothing… just the city. Nearly time to go home for me, and I haven’t even seen the Delta, she thought unhappily. Before I go home, I want to do something different, something worthwhile, something I will remember… yeah, something worth writing home about.

She sat silently cramped in the back, her long legs uncomfortably squashed against the front passenger seat.

The young woman observed the usual bustling late afternoon activity among the numerous colourful market stalls that occupied Saigon's sidewalks.

She smiled. What’s a sidewalk for, eh? To put a market on, of course, what else could it be for?

Honda motorbikes surrounded her little taxi, noisily and chaotically driving along in the same direction. Hundreds more were parked along the road, their owners having disappeared among the maze of busy stalls and shops.

How they will ever find their bikes is a mystery to me.

Her thoughts drifted back to her dilemma. How to get out of the city? Most sane people wouldn’t dream of leaving the relative safety of Saigon for the much more dangerous countryside. At night, when she walked along the waterfront, where the Saigon River flowed to the South China Sea, she peered into the dark countryside across the river, wondering, what’s out there? She had seen the green, red and white tracers fly back and forth, and it was not uncommon to hear the guns.

A few stray bullets had crashed onto the pavement close to her hotel a few weeks ago. At the end of their range, they had ineffectually smashed against the wall of an adjacent building. People had scattered nonchalantly as if it was nothing more than a hail shower. They had even giggled about it. She had tried to pick one up in her innocence only to burn her fingers on the hot, heavy calibre projectile. She had screeched in pain and dropped it. Someone had laughed at her stupidity.

Marlyne, for that was her name, had looked embarrassed; how could she have been so dumb? The magnesium inside had burned white-hot, and the object had travelled beyond the sound barrier before it had finally run out of velocity and range to drop onto the pavement unceremoniously.

She looked out of the side window of the small Renault, no longer paying attention to the buzz on the street. The traffic, the stalls, and the people milling about all went into a blur, and then a thought came into her head.

Hmm, I might know the person who can get me out of here - I just need to have the courage to ask.

Marlyne’s morose mood gradually improved as she thought about it; all I’ve got to do is ask.

Steven was a good tennis player, she gave him that. But then, why wouldn’t he be? He seemed to spend a lot of time at the Club or the court if he wasn't at the Embassy. At the pool or the bar, he would chat up the pretty American or European embassy girls in the hope of getting lucky, which he probably did regularly. Everybody was at it in this town.

Marlyne wasn’t sure where to begin as she plopped herself down on a chair. She wiped her forehead with a towel, observing Steven from the corner of her eye, wondering when would be a good time to broach the subject. She began casually. ‘Thanks for the game, Steve. Jesus, you do make me run all over the place, you know.’

‘I know, and I love watching it.’

Marlyne guessed what he meant and ignored the remark. Then, armed with her natural charm, she continued. ‘While we’re here, I uh… I need to ask you something.’

Steven looked at her, probably thinking: here it comes. ‘Why sure, fire away.’

Marlyne looked away for a fleeting moment, gathering her courage. ‘Well, I’ll be leaving in about a month, you know.’

Steven perked up, wondering: Was she finally going to offer him a night of passionate sex? Like most men, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her breasts, and it didn’t seem to bother her. He wondered if she was intentionally provocative when, after a game of tennis, she wore that little bikini at the pool, a bikini that, for all practical purposes, did a bad job of hiding what was on offer, both below and above. Her breasts would bulge out for all to admire or criticise, depending on whose opinion one listened to. Jealous women thought she was exposing far too much of her luscious flesh. The gossip machine made all sorts of assumptions, primarily unverified rumours, but not all, perhaps.

Seemingly unaware of his desire, Marlyne continued, ‘I hear you have a lot of contacts around the place, right?’

‘Yeah, I suppose so; why? What are you after?’

His hopes began to fade, and if Steven had dreams, he was in for a rude awakening. It was more like she threw a glass of water in his face to sober him up after a night of heavy drinking.

‘I want to go on a helicopter ride into the field.’ Marlyne stated bluntly.

Her enigmatic smile had thrown him completely off guard, and for a brief moment, he had to compose himself.

‘You mean a ride on an Air America chopper? Well, um… shouldn’t be that difficult; where to?’

‘No, no. I mean, I want to go with the Army, the Vietnamese Army. You know, like when they go somewhere where the action is. Nothing too crazy, just going out there, into the countryside - on an army helicopter.’

Steven was dumbstruck. ‘What? Are you nuts? Who the hell wants to go looking for the shit? What’s the matter with you? There’s a war out there, you know? Is the occasional boom and bang around here not enough for you?’

Marlyne laughed at the unintended innuendo. ‘If you are referring to my “so-called” sex life, then no, it’s not enough.

Steven could only laugh at her quick wit. ‘Oh, so you do have a sex life then.’

‘What if I do?’ She teased. ‘Come on. I know you’ve been out there quite a bit from what people tell me.’

‘Yeah, and they’d have to drag me into the damn chopper today. I mean, you, being a nurse or whatever it is you are, should know that people out there get hurt or worse. One moment, you think everything is nice and dandy, and suddenly, all hell breaks loose. Shit happens - and you want to go for the ride?’

‘Look,’ Marlyne said impatiently, ‘Journalists, press photographers and who knows who else always ride along on those choppers, so what’s the problem?

Yeah, and have you looked at them? Half of them are smoking that funny stuff so they can blank out the truth; the others are manic adrenalin junkies drinking themselves into a stupor and then coming back for more. And you wanted to do what you said?’

‘I want to go for the ride.’ Marlyne stated once again calmly. ‘Look, if it’s too much of a problem, forget about it, I’m sure one of those Vietnamese officers can help. Jeez, I just thought you could do it.’

Steven looked blankly at her for a moment. Then he cocked his head, his gaze resting on her breasts. ‘Yes, of course, I can do it, it’s not that big a deal, but… what’s it worth to you?’ he asked with a sudden annoying grin.

Marlyne opened her mouth and looked straight at him, digesting what he had just said. ‘Did you just tell me you’ll arrange a ride for me if I let you have a ride between my legs? As in - you want to fuck me?’

Marlyne’s higher upbringing did not prevent her from using crude language, and the words came out slightly louder than he had hoped for. Steven’s eyes quickly scanned left and right, hoping no one had overheard the blunt remark. But to his relief, everybody kept to their own chats.

Marlyne might have brushed the suggestion off, but there was more to come.

‘Jeez, Marlyne, everybody’s doing it, and you’re a gorgeous girl. It’s not like you haven’t done it out here, right? I mean, Doug’s been talking…’

But she cut him off. ‘Oh I see, Doug, yes, but of course, I should have known.’ By now, Marlyne had switched into mocking mode, she was determined to make him suffer for what he had just suggested.

‘Before he left, he, of course, had to kiss and tell. Or, to be precise, he had to screw me and then tell - you and who knows who else he told. Sure, why not. Just what people wanted to hear to feed the local gossip machine.’

Steven looked down at the table and chuckled.

‘It’s not funny, Steve.’

‘Ah, but it is true then, right?’ Steven asked.

‘So?’ Marlyne knew she could not fight rumours. In fact, she didn’t really care much what kind of reputation she had, but it did annoy her that Steven thought he could trade a favour for sex. She was going to make him suffer for it. With a mischievous little smile, she decided to rub it in as hard as she could, just to annoy him.

‘Yes, it’s true. I took him to the Majestic, and we had a lovely time. I'm not sure who screwed who, but I do remember sitting on top, and a little later, I was lying on my back, but I may have passed out by my third orgasm.’ Marlyne said, looking at a whirling ceiling fan. ‘Oh yes, and I seem to remember, I gave him a blow job too.’

To increase the agony, she slowly ran her tongue along her upper lip, continuing all the way around till she had done the tour of her mouth. Marlyne then took a sip from Steven’s glass of whiskey. With her eyes closed and her head slightly tilted back, she swallowed some of it with deliberate slowness in an embarrassing imitation of incredible erotic pleasure. Then, with a flick of the tongue, an accidental amount of whiskey flowed back out her mouth over her chin and dripped down along her neck. The suggestive innuendo was lost neither on her nor Steven. She quickly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and burst out in uncontrollable laughter.

Steven put his head down, covered his forehead and eyes with his hand, fingers open pretending to have gone into hiding, furtively scanning his surroundings, praying no one was watching.

‘Well, I guess you got the picture right? Happy now?’

Steven looked even more uncomfortable. ‘Christ, Marlyne, I didn’t ask for the whole porn show.’

Marlyne laughed. ‘I’m just teasing you. It was just a one-night stand, for Pete’s sake, that’s all. It was nice, but we don’t have to write a thesis about it now either.’

‘Very funny, Marlyne. You know, you can be downright embarrassing at times.’

‘Like now?’

‘Yes, like now.’

‘Good. I’m glad you enjoyed the show.’

His discomfort was quite hilarious for her devious little mind. She continued. ‘The thing is, you see. I didn’t come here to get laid. I just wondered if I could get a ride out of this dirty town with all its intrigue. I'm bored, and I want to do something different.’

‘So not even a tiny one-night stand then, just for fun?’

She smiled one of her cheeky yet enigmatic smiles. ‘You don’t give up, do you? If I want to get laid, you’ll know all about it… I’ll be the one doing all the seducing, all by myself like a big girl.’

‘Really? Well, when can you start?’

She put her elbows on the table, resting her chin on her intertwined fingers, looking straight into the eyes. More than one had mistaken her sensuality for being easy and available, and more than one had collided with the sharp edge of her brain instead of being rewarded with a night of passion.

With a seductive purr, she went on the offensive.

‘Well, you see, there’s a problem with that. If I’m not mistaken, that shiny ring on your finger tells me you have a wife sitting somewhere in faraway Melbourne or wherever she lives.’

Again taken aback, Steven looked at the ceiling, blowing air. About to say something, she again cut him off.

‘The problem with wives is, you never know when they suddenly take a notion to check on their philandering husbands, and it would be quite embarrassing if she finds you in my bed. Mind you, maybe Sheila would like to join us for a threesome - I’ve never tried it, but I’ve been told it’s great fun.’ The smile on her face was unbearably mocking.

Steven rolled his eyes at the ceiling in despair. ‘Jesus, Marlyne, are you through? You don’t know when to stop, do you.’

‘No, I’m having a wonderful time just thinking about it.’ She said with exaggerated dreaminess.

Steven’s eyes were throwing daggers.’

She threw up her hands. ‘OK, you want me to stop? Fine, no more.’

Biting her lip, she momentarily looked out into the garden, beyond the pool, into the darkness. Then, in a more serious and much gentler tone, she continued. ‘Look, Steve, I mean, I like you, really, but platonically, and that’s exactly why we shouldn’t sleep together. People are unkind, people talk, and we shouldn’t hurt anyone - and - I don’t want to get hurt, OK? I have my own reasons, Steve. Let’s just keep it nice.’

For Steven, Marlyne was both sensual and puzzling, but it suddenly struck him that she may have secrets. He wondered if, behind the façade of bravado, there wasn’t something fragile hiding deep inside her. Why else would she be out here, in Vietnam, of all places? He decided to leave it alone for fear of stepping on a raw nerve.

Across the table, he took her hand, she did not draw away. ‘I’m sorry,’ he began, ‘I shouldn’t have pushed you. Look, um… forget about it; I’m sure you’re right. Just friends OK?

‘So, you still want to hitch a ride out there?’ With his other hand, he made a gesture indicating the world, somewhere far away.

‘Yah, I do.’ She answered softly.

‘Jesus… Marlyne, people are beginning to leave the country; there’s a bad omen hanging in the air. But you want to go out there and see for yourself.’ He hesitated and then continued. ‘You’re a bit of a mystery girl, you know. You waltz in, play some tennis, join a party sometimes and disappear. The gossip machine springs into action when someone finally makes out with you. But no one knows anything about you or what goes on behind those beautiful eyes. No one knows where you are during the day or what you do. And now suddenly, you want to join the war party -Jesus Marlyne, I worry about you.’

She gave a barely perceptible shrug with her right shoulder; the expression on Marlyne’s face could have been interpreted as Well, there you have it. But she remained silent.

‘I’m going to get a piece of paper.’ Steven said. I’ll write down what you must do to get your ride.’ He walked to the bar, ordered two more drinks, and returned with a pen and blank paper. He began to write down a few instructions and several names. When he was done, he shoved it over the table to Marlyne.

‘Here you go, good luck.’

Marlyne read the note carefully and then looked up. ‘What? That easy? That’s all it takes?’

‘Well, a smile might help.’

‘And what do I do if the officer in charge also expects a bit of satisfaction behind the shed?’

Steven laughed. ‘You’re not their type, honey. They’re not into Western women. You’re too tall, too voluptuous, too fit, and big tits scare them.

They both laughed.

Marlyne finished her drink and then got up. ‘I should go home. Thank you, Steven, you’re a good sport.’

‘Yeah, and you’re a tease.’

‘I know. I’m a tease when needed, and you deserved a good tease.’ She then briefly but firmly placed a kiss on his lips.

Looking up, he smiled a sad smile. ‘Be careful. Look after yourself, Marlyne. It’s not a game out there, you know.’ He shook his head slowly and repeated the last words. ‘Not a game. Don’t become an adrenaline junky. It will come back to bite you later in life - providing you still have a life.’

‘I’ll be alright; I know how to look after myself.’

‘Yeah? Well, start by going to the market and buy everything you can find. Jungle boots, American Olive Drab shirt and trousers, the Vietnamese ones won’t fit you, belt, water canteens,and flashlight. Buy it all. Don’t stand out. Look just like one of them. Tie your hair back and hide it. And when someone shouts: incoming! You don’t stand around like a dummy. You hit the deck fast, you hear.’

‘I’ll remember that.’

‘I’ll miss you.’

‘I know… I’ll remember that too.’ Marlyne turned round, and as she walked out, despite the heat, a creepy chill crept over her, like a premonition that she may never be back, for her life was about to change.

Late at night, in her bedroom, she stood in front of the window after the curfew sirens had wailed their morose warning. Looking out over the river, she saw a flash, and then, after a short while, she heard a faint but unmistakable boom. She followed a few random tracers hugging the pitch-black horizon. Marlyne closed the curtains and glanced at the paper in her hands, and the uneasy feeling came over her again. My god, what have I done? But she knew that the piece of paper she held in her hand was more than a ticket-to-ride; it was a magnet drawing her into the unknown.