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 RETURNING TO HANOI, I had multiple messages and phone conversations with General Winfield over the ambassador’s concerns about the upcoming repatriation ceremony, that it was becoming more about the USAF C-141 aircraft “Hanoi Taxi” than about the mission and sending home remains. The ambassador specifically inquired about the military decision-making process and the level at which the decisions about the ceremony were made. The Hanoi Taxi was the aircraft that brought the original POWs home in 1973, their names autographed on the inside of the fuselage, and the air force was retiring it. There was this concept that had been approved by who knows who that it should be used on this repat for a last flight. It did not help that the aircraft broke down en route, and we had to shift the whole ceremony a day, which did not endear us to the Vietnamese bureaucracy. The Vietnamese suddenly had an unusual interest in being precisely informed on exactly who was on the aircraft, what their role was, how we intended to conduct the ceremony, and so on. The media had considerable interest, and there was even a piece in the London Times. We decided we would conduct the ceremony exactly as per standard operating procedure—no additions, no changes. I was confident everything would go fine for the ceremony, and since I was pretty lucky, the aging aircraft would probably get airborne again as well. On the morning of May 28, 2004, the repatriation ceremony went just dandy. The aircraft took off again without a hitch, the prayers of everyone in the detachment and the embassy lifting it skyward. There were more press than usual, and they spent a good bit of time interviewing the pilot of the Chapter 12 THE LAST FLIGHT  Chapter 12 Hanoi Taxi, a retiring U.S. Air Force Reserve major general who was a POW on the original flight. In a wink we were back down in Da Nang receiving the team sergeants who were flying in to supervise the advance work on their sites, which had now become routine. A week later they were followed by the teams coming in from Hawaii. Between joint advance work duties I spent my time carving a handle for my Vietnamese hand-forged axe, which I got because I did not have one. I began a collection of Vietnamese tools, knives, and machetes—not fancy stuff, mind you, but honest working tools. I bought my axe in the Dong Ha market for forty thousand dong, a good deal, not four dollars. For reasons unexplained, axes in Vietnam do not come with handles attached. Instead, they also hand you a tree limb from which to carve the handle. It is a special wood, extremely hard. When I asked the name of the wood, the market lady said it was called axe handle wood. I set things up in my room in the Furama Resort to carve my axe handle with my Gerber multitool. The tree limb needed cutting, so I went and found the Furama maintenance supervisor, Mr. Hang, to see whether he could saw it for me. Having been an interpreter for the army back in the days of the war, Mr. Hang spoke excellent English. He had regained it after years in reeducation camps, then selling souvenirs to tourists up on Hai Van Pass. Four years previously an Australian engineer came along, the engineer who was building the Furama Resort. He needed an interpreter, so he hired Mr. Hang on the spot. Funny how life hangs on these random encounters. After Mr. Hang had spent three years translating instructions to the building crew on every aspect of the complex, the Furama management had enough sense to hire this very intelligent and lively fellow to be the chief of maintenance. He offered to show me the carpenter shop where they made everything for the hotel. He had nine Lao carpenters, who stood passively while Mr. Hang explained every strange tool in the shop. I wanted to use a very interesting saw to cut my handle, but they would not allow it. Apparently it would be undigni fied, a loss of face for the Furama to let a guest do a little honest labor. Returning to my suite, I pulled the glass top off the iron coffee table and rigged it up as a workbench. I transformed it into a vise with twenty feet of parachute cord twisted around...

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