Riddle of the Five Buddhas

In early March, the General and his four comrades met again at the Cercle Sportif.  By then, all had managed to have their families take vacations or go to school outside of South Vietnam.

“My daughter has made the proper arrangements in Switzerland,” the banker said, “and managed to insert the appropriate bamboo slivers in the Buddhas.  Here,” he continued as he passed out a foot-high Buddha and two brass coins to each of the participants.  “You will notice that there is a dot on one of the coins.  I would advise you to immediately give the coin with the dot to a person of your choosing with a short note to brief them on its significance.  Be sure to stress the value of the coin for their survivors.  The coin without the dot will be the only one acceptable unless there is proof that the individual is dead.  If the individual dies, the coin with the dot will confirm ownership of the Buddha when it is found.”  While these individuals had been life-long friends and earlier had all gone to school together in France, they had to make sure that no one would be able to empty the bank account without the agreement of the other four.

“Initially, I have decided to go to Paris,” the banker said.  “My brother’s children are in school in Europe.  But after a few months, I may settle in San Francisco or Los Angeles.  There are many Asians there so my family and I would probably feel very much at home.”

Xuan gave them the name of an American, Robert Minewell, who had agreed to serve as a clearing house for Vietnamese officials who managed to escape, so they could locate each other after the fall of Saigon.  They all knew he was a senior CIA official and, therefore, would be sure to be one of the first Americans out once evacuation started.  He knew too much to be left behind.  Also, once out of Vietnam, he would have the resources available to locate people should that need arise.

The general agreed with his choice.  “I’ve met Mr. Minewell, Xuan.  I agree that he is an honorable man and someone we can trust.”

Xuan then alerted his compatriots.  “Keep your ears open, mes amis, regarding the disposition of American funds.  I’ve been told that the Americans are under instructions to dispose of all currencies in their possession.  However, I doubt that they will dispense the gold to their Vietnamese colleagues.  There are already rumblings that some of the gold has been hidden in caches in the Hmong territory in Laos or Thailand and that some minor officials don’t plan to burn  all the green.  The senior officials in the Embassy Finance Office, of course, will be on the first helicopter out, perhaps with important documents and as much money and gold as they can carry.  I have a cadre of my countrymen to be my eyes and ears.  Perhaps we will have more than bank accounts available to us.”

The banker looked up and seemed about to make a statement, but suddenly changed his mind.  They all disbursed, awaiting the fall of Saigon and the inevitable  North Vietnamese flood.

It wasn’t long before their fears were realized, but no one would be able to find any of these five individuals or their families still resident in Saigon.

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