Mademoiselle Beatrice De Funes: Auntie Bee

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All of our various boating excursions in and around the Mekong Delta had thrown up and involved some dynamic, interesting, larger than life individuals. One of these was the Cabaret Club owning, petit and slender, Mademoiselle Béatrice de Funès. Who, due to her socialite connections, and a working relationship with the Diem administration, had been recruited by the “Agency” in Saigon as an intelligence gathering “Ear”. Being a natural linguist blessed with a phenomenal eye for detail made her an invaluable addition to the intelligence agency.
Béatrice de Funès was reputedly her given name, but was never officially confirmed neither to me, nor for that matter, anyone else. If the “Agency” knew for a fact either way, they never said, this being standard practice by the “Agency” in all cases.
Known by her “Agency” name of Auntie Bee she was, with all certainty, by birth a product of La Troisième République, the third French Republic. She was the only female child within the strata of an haute bourgeoisie, upper class, family living on the Rue du Faubourg-Saint-Denis, and who enjoyed partaking of the decadent Paris style of the time.
This Parisians bourgeoise lifestyle could well have been a gilded one for Béatrice, and would possibly have remained so indefinitely, had not the Great War come along and destroyed it forever. Not only did that War violently take her beloved, devoted father from the family, it also removed her brothers and uncles from her young life in exactly the same cruel manner.
Shells and other War ordnance have no particular preference as to social class when doing their work. By the Wars end the complete male line, seven in all, of the de Funès who lived in the grande maison on the Rue du Faubourg-Saint-Denis, la...

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...French Foreign Legion, and had backed their putsch against the leadership of Algeria in 61. On any occasion when an ex Legionnaire entered the club, she would vigorously bang on the bar with a beer mallet for silence, ascend the short staircase leading to the cabaret stage, and sing in their honor. For this she received an enthusiastic raucous chorus of whistles and shouts, accompanied by deafening applause.
Had anyone in the early 1960s wished to seek out a later-in-life Édith Piaf look-alike, and in their quest took to the backwaters of the Mekong Delta, there was available, the one and only, redoubtable, Auntie Bee.
As I have proceeded through life, some of those who have befriended me enriched it, yet others had a quite opposite effect. Auntie Bee, who was undoubtedly an immensely complicated person, is one I would put high up on my list of those who enriched.

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