There Was a Time by George H. Wittman

Author:George H. Wittman
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781636240459
Publisher: Casemate Publishers (Ignition)
Published: 2021-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

“It is inconceivable to me how they can be so stupid. They have no knowledge of the region. They have hardly anyone who can speak local languages. They have no experience with the Annamites, at all. They have a child’s conception of the problems here and also a puerile view of colonialism. They have their colonies: Hawaii, Alaska, Puerto Rico, others, but we’re not supposed to have ours. It’s so sanctimonious… as if we should ignore their double faces. And this Philippines independence charade is, well, just that, a charade. I tell you………”

Commandant Jean Sainteny had been ranting on and off since his arrival that morning at his M.5 office in Kunming. His adjutant listened patiently, nodding every now and then to agree with his superior’s view. He had heard the theme before, but this morning’s tirade was longer and harsher.

“I have reached the end of my tether, the end of my patience with this business. I get no guidance from Calcutta and no response to my questions from Paris. They want us to perform miracles. Mon Dieu, the fact that I haven’t shot that Castelli yet is a miracle.”

The adjutant smiled broadly hoping to mollify Sainteny. The commandant acknowledged his own little joke with an exaggerated head shake.

“Yes, certainly it is a bit funny, without doubt, but that man Castelli, that shrimp, is a troublemaker. He thinks I am taken in by his artificial friendliness. I am never quite sure whether the things that go on are American policy or if it is just some brainstorm of that little Italian. It was bad enough I had to stand for the embarrassing treatment by Alessandri, that Vichy toady, without having to listen to the phony sympathies of le nouveau Commandant Castelli. You remember that incident?”

“Oui, mon Commandant.”

“I wish I could blame it all on him, but I’m sure he’s getting his marching orders from Washington. I’m worried about Chungking also. It smells as if there’s a business deal in progress here between the Ami’s and Chiang Kai-shek. I can’t figure out what the Americans get in exchange for handing over Indochina—or at least most of it—to the Chinese. Or does Washington want it all for themselves? And of course we are getting absolutely no help from Paris one way or the other. We’ve got to take a firm line. We must do it now. What do you think, lieutenant?”

Jean Sainteny was not really looking for an answer from his adjutant. The lieutenant read the signs he had seen before. Sainteny was about to take some action. Best to keep one’s mouth shut. He knew how to remain silent when policy might be made for which he would be asked to share in the blame if things went wrong. On the other hand, if everything progressed well, he was, after all, still close enough to gain some reflected credit. The young adjutant did allow himself one observation.

“I am not sure, sir, that American and Chinese interests in Indochina coincide. I

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