Major North #15: “Saigon Singer” (1946) by Van Wyck Mason.
Colonel Hugh North resigns his rank of colonel to remain a field agent. G-2 has
received word that someone in Saigon can give them the names of British and
Americans who consorted with a Japanese general, identifying our agents,
resulting in their deaths. Now America and British governments want them
brought to trial for treason. His cover
is a safari to shoot tigers in Indo-China, and his contact will come to him.
The British sends their man, Brigadier Bruce Kilgore to assist Major North.
Pamela Saunders, an American prisoner during the Japanese occupation, had the
mistress of the general in order to survive, and she has the records. A gifted
opera singer in Saigon, she wants money that will take her to the Stage in
Paris and New York, and will reveal the secret for the right price – if North
can keep her alive.
This was a good plot, but
lacked action. I was mainly disappointed in the lack of detail of Indo-China in
1946. This was right after WWII, and the defeat of Germany and Japan.
Indo-China was a colony of France, and everyone involved in the Saigon case is
American or European. We do get this brief description: At the more important intersections diminutive gendarmes in conical
lampshade hats used white batons in languid efforts to direct traffic. Nobody
appeared to give them more than casual and tolerant consideration. Chinese,
Annamite, Malay, Negroid, Caucasian, Sikhs, and Arabs hustled about.
I did enjoy the writing, no
matter how boring it was. The author used a lot of words that kept me reaching
for the dictionary, and I enjoy finding new words to play with. For instance,
the following:
“Definitely callopegic, eh?”
“The word, old boy, is callipygian.”
“What kind of double talk is that?” a third party wondered.
“Merely a brief dissertation upon the pulchritudinous merits of the
charming nymphs of the asphalt who just passed.”
Well, my dictionary could not
find callopegic or callipygian, but pulchritudinous tells us they were
discussing the beauty of street hookers.
I’m not sure who the Annamites
were, but supposed they are the local inhabitants – Vietnamese. The final
confrontation came twenty miles from Saigon, in one of my old stomping grounds,
Bien Hoa, so that tickled me, though it would be 24 years later when I arrived.
The French Colonists controlled Saigon and Indo-China, and whether the author
meant to or not, it didn’t paint a very good picture colonialism. Still, the plot was good, and the story
interesting, even if there wasn’t much action on the part of our hero. It was a
fun read, regardless.
