Monday, May 29, 1972
Danger Just Part Of The Job For U.S. Envoy
by Tom Tiede
PHNOM PENH, Cambodia --(NEA) --U.S. Ambassador Emory Swank is no stranger to hazards of Southeast Asia. In 1965 he was caught in the thick of an attempted air raid coup d'état in Laos. Last year in Phnom Penh somebody tried to blow him up with a bicycle bomb. More recently here, the local police shot some fellow who was stringing wire, in broad daylight, in the direction of Swank's resident quarters.So it is the envoy takes current enemy threats to his capital with a shrug. "What can you do?" he asks. And answers: "Not much."Field reports suggest communist forces can take Phnom Penh at will. They have close-in guerrillas on at least three sides -and seem at no loss for munitions. Last month an enemy mortar attack killed 100 people on the edge of town. Since then the Phnom Penh airfield has been an almost nightly target. But when the mortars come, Swank can not usually hear them for the air conditioner in his bedroom. And when he does hear them, if they don't sound too bad, he merely curses the darkness for the disruption and rolls back over to sleep.His coolness is more than just diplomatic aplomb. He does not think -nor do many American officials here -that Communists are about to grab Phnom Penh. The argument is that they are too busy trying to grab Vietnam. And besides, as one of Swank's 175-member diplomatic community puts it: "Why would they want it? It's the dullest place in all Asia. Even the whores turn in before midnight."Optimism aside, however, Swank remains perhaps the most consistently vulnerable of all U.S. diplomats. There is undoubtedly a high price on his head. This town is only loosely secure. There are no protective U.S. troops here as there are in, say, Saigon. "At best," says an embassy staffer, "the man is a walking target every day."For its part, the Cambodian government does what it can to protect Swank. His residence is patrolled, if not too closely, around the clock. Stern national gendarmes travel with him wherever he wanders. "They are," says Swank, somewhat generously, "very sufficient."Also, the U.S. government has chipped in with some insurance. Swank's post is one of 10 in the word equipped with an armored limousine. The embassy is insulated with some electronic sentry equipment. And a handful of Marine guards keep eyes on the embassy door.As for Swank himself? "One takes certain precautions." For example, he tries to avoid the rut of routine. "I learned from bitter lesson." Not long ago some embassy people took to playing Sunday baseball at a nearby field. For seven Sundays running they played. On the eighth the enemy was waiting, tossed some grenades and killed two people. It so upset the ambassador that he now strives personally to avoid "unnecessary activity" with crowds. "I don't even go to the Cercle Sportif anymore. I don't want to endanger the other people."The restrictions, if necessary, are also unappealing. And if Swank's job here is one of Foreign Service's most risky, it may also, ironically, be one of the most boring. Swank will not say it, but his people do. Except for some parties where the electricity usually fails and the ice melts, Phnom Penh offers little to excite embassy personnel. The only compensation -"other than a job well done, of course -is a 25 per cent differential pay given by the State Department to keep places like this staffed with something besides logs."Swank doesn't get the differential. "The only extra I receive is time and a half toward retirement -because Phnom Penh is classified as an "unhealthful" zone." Yet he does not kick. He is himself rather a stiff sort (born in Maryland, a former college professor, his full name is Emory Coblentz Swank) and so fits in nicely with the Khmer climate. He is not, say his people, a swinger in any sense. And with a name like Emory Coblentz Swank, he probably does not miss the days when he could watch the roller derby on TV."I enjoy it here," he says. He likes the food. He does exercises on his roof. He takes off now and then for Hong Kong.Whether Phnom Penh is vital or not may be arguable. But it is undeniably a hardship post. Half the nation is controlled by the enemy. Communists roam freely a few miles to the west, east and south of the capital. At least 19 newsmen have been captured by the bad guys (and not heard of again) while traveling on roads outside the capital.And if that's not enough, says Emory Swank, every time there is an eclipse of the moon, the entire nation begins shooting at the sky "to drive away evil spirits." Last time it happened, three evil spirits were killed on the ground. "And that's what worries you most," says an embassy staffer, "the people are such damn lousy shots.""Danger Just Part of the Job for U.S. Envoy", by Tom Tiede, published in the Pacific Stars and Stripes, Monday, May 29, 1972 and reprinted from European and Pacific Stars and Stripes, a Department of Defense publication copyright, 2002 European and Pacific Stars and Stripes.