The Eaves of Heaven by Andrew X. Pham

emperor in a referendum and seized power for himself—the vilest of treasons that would have, in the previous generation, warranted the beheadings of Diem and his entire family. While the U.S. continued to provide Diem with generous military, financial, and organizational support, it placed no requirement on Diem to allow democratic development through freedom of speech and a multi-party system. Empowered and unfettered, Diem quickly eliminated his political rivals, silenced critics, and initiated a ruthless campaign to rid the South of opposition by branding all dissenters as Communists and imprisoning thousands regardless of political affiliation. Within five years, Diem became the dictator of a police state.
    The peasantry grew deeply resentful of Diem’s corrupt policies and cronyism. Persecuted for voicing their complaints, many farmers became Communist sympathizers, which, consequently, facilitated guerillas’ operations in the countryside. Insurgent activities grew more violent and frequent in the South. Even Diem’s own men turned against him, staging a coup that nearly toppled his regime.
    In December of 1960, Ho Chi Minh formed the National Liberation Front (NLF), which had its own armed forces called the People’s Armed Forces of Liberation (PAFL), which the Diem government and the Americans called Viet Cong. Although the South Vietnam government controlled the countryside during the daylight hours, at night the PAFL controlled vast areas of the Mekong Delta and parts of the Central Highlands. Throughout 1961, the Viet Cong launched large-scale assaults against the Army of the Republic of South Vietnam (ARVN). As the conflict developed, the South became critically divided between the pro-Diem faction headed by the Nhan Vi party and the anti-Diem factions, which included suppressed religious and political groups as well as the Viet Cong.
    In 1962, I was living and teaching in Ben Tre, a reputed hotbed of Viet Cong insurgency. I had decided to drop out of the Institute of Administration and continue pursuing my degree in teaching. Anh and I were in love, but we couldn’t get married because of my father’s disapproval. A wedding without his blessing was unimaginable, so we simply moved in together.
    In Ben Tre, Anh and I rented a one-bedroom duplex in a government-worker complex. It was a modest unit without a kitchen, but it was the best home we had in four years of living together. The backyard had a guava tree with fruit big and sweet enough to sell at the market. Two large fish-egg trees with juicy pinkish-yellow berries shaded the front yard. Our next-door neighbor was a friendly widow who lived alone and took it upon herself to teach Anh the art of homemaking.
    Ben Tre was the best post I could find, given the recent glut of teachers. Even with good recommendations and experience, I had to commute half a day by bus and ferry for part-time work at two different places, a public school in Ben Tre and a private high school in Saigon. The situation had worsened with each passing year. With the intense competition for a limited number of jobs, it was inevitable that politics entered the workplace.
    At Ben Tre High School, many faculty members joined Diem’s Nhan Vi party; the more ambitious ones went as far as converting to Catholicism to advance their careers. The school principal had no qualms about showing his favoritism for Diem supporters. Despite my two-year seniority at the school, I was assigned the least desirable courses. The classes that I had been teaching for two years were given to new instructors, all Nhan Vi party members. I dared not lodge my grievances for fear of being branded a dissident, but I couldn’t keep my opinions to myself when my students asked about current events and the political situation.
    One evening after school, I had a visit from Khoa, one of my students who had helped me find our apartment two years prior. I enjoyed talking to Khoa and didn’t mind helping him with his