Lion Maung Maung - My name is Maria

"Can't I be a spy too?"

Colonel Petra looked at me in surprise at what I had said so unexpectedly. Then he slapped the table with his big hand so hard that even the coffee cup on the table shook.

“So, you are my old friend's daughter,” he suddenly exclaimed. His eyes were also shining with a glimmer of pride for me.

In fact, the colonel had known me for twenty-four years, my age. Now that Czechoslovakia had been occupied by the Nazis, my mother and I were refugees in Monte Carlo. For my mother, who spoke no French, the colonel was the only Czech companion I had in Monte Carlo. For me, he was a person who could remind me of the happy times I had spent in Vienna when I was young.

Like Colonel Peter, my father, in the Slavic tradition, was very attached to his homeland. But his business activities inevitably required him to be in Vienna, so I grew up there.

I love my father very much. But I still feel sad when I think about the day my father died when the Nazis marched into Vienna. Because if he had seen the Nazis take Vienna, he would not have been as ashamed as I was. And I don't think he would have been able to bear the horrors we experienced that day.

It was time for us to leave Vienna. But the war had not yet begun. The Czech army was already well-trained. It was a time of real patriotism, full of weapons, and a spirit of resistance to any enemy. But on September 30, 1938, the British and French allies signed the Munich Agreement, which served only their own interests. The Czechs' hopes were dashed.

So, after my mother and I crossed the border and arrived in Monte Carlo, we were reunited here with my mother's old friend, Colonel Emanuel Pietra.

Now Colonel Petra and I are talking face to face at a table in front of the Paris Café. The colonel tells me that he has joined the "Daziem Bureau" and that he will soon be returning to Czechoslovakia to gather information that will be useful to the Allies. He is firmly convinced that war is inevitable.

"The Bureau of the Détente" refers to the French secret service.

The colonel explained to me.

"Then can't you tell me to get a job in that department?"

I asked enthusiastically. Then I explained my interests and desires in detail. I wanted to travel freely. I wanted to do something unique and exciting. And most importantly, I wanted to be able to play a small part in the fight against the monster Hitler was currently terrorizing the whole of Europe.

"Well, then, I'll try. There's a man there called Son Ning Shen who recruits new people. He told me about this matter. So I'll tell him about you. In fact, they really need spies right now."

Colonel Petra looked at me with a big smile and said, “Well, now it’s time to go back to your office.”

Actually, the place where I work can't be called an "office" because when I first arrived in Monte Carlo, I was shocked to learn that you can't get a job without a "permit" to work here. And getting a permit isn't easy. My mother and I rented a small room in a hotel after we arrived. But we didn't live in that hotel room all day. We would go out and sit in a cafe for hours during the day, drinking coffee as long as we could.

Then one day, while I was spending my time in a café, I happened to come across an advertisement in a newspaper. The advertisement said that a secretary was needed. She should be fluent in German and French. That's what I'm good at. She also said that she should be "handsome and agile." I didn't worry about that. More importantly, the advertisement didn't mention the requirement for a work "permit," so I realized that I didn't need to show a permit.

I decided to try to get this job anyway. To be honest, if we don't have a job like this that will provide us with a regular income, I'm sure that soon my mother and I will both be starving. So this job is a way out for me. So I decided that I would get this job.

I want to say something here. That is because when I really want something, a force automatically comes into my body. That force is like a clone of me. My original body and that clone combine to create a desire that I want very strongly. I don't have to pray for the thing I want, I just have to have the desire. And I just have to have a strong belief that that thing, or that thing, must be, and must be obtained. In fact, if anyone wants something, they must have a strong belief that they must get it. Here, as soon as the doubt comes in for a second, "Will I get what I want?", the strength of their faith and spirit begins to decrease. If that happens, then they will lose.

So, I understand that when writing an application, according to the advertisement in the newspaper, they have to describe the qualifications they are looking for in some way. I don't want to make it too long and complicated by adding unnecessary details. I can write it concisely. But what does "handsome and agile" mean, and how do I describe it?

Finally, as is my custom, I have written this letter in a superficial and casual manner, in my own style, so that the reader will feel a sense of seriousness in the letter -

"Whoever

Respected Sir -

Please read and consider my application carefully.

Because I'm so desperate to get a job.

Because I need it. I am from Vienna.

The day I was born, the 'Goddess Mother'

I have a remarkable talent for languages ​​on the tip of my tongue.

He gave me the ability to speak German, Italian, and French.

I can speak languages ​​fluently. Now again.

I would like to ask for one more blessing from the Goddess.

The prize I want to receive is your work right now.

I addressed the letter to the post office box number. Then, as a wish for "good luck," I gave the envelope a sweet smell and put it in the post office.

Three or four days later, my mother-in-law came to me, disguised as a postman. According to the letter she left, I was to go for an “interview.” The place to go was a large building on “Moe Lin,” a high-class neighborhood in Monte Carlo.

When I arrived at the building, a maid in a white lace dress greeted me and led me into a large living room. As I entered the living room, she whispered something in a low voice. But I couldn't make out what she said because her words were so indistinct. Then she left me alone in the living room and went away.

While I was admiring the precious furniture in the grand drawing room, an elderly man in a blue suit entered the room. I immediately recognized him. I had often seen him in Vienna. He was a Russian, and his life was as mysterious as it was difficult to understand. He had run a gambling establishment in Vienna.

"Oh.. Madam Bell Zuka Madova, what are you doing here?"