B+2011+1st+Chin+Christina+Ant+Farm



**Name:** Eliane Deneuve

**Age:** 32 **Gender:** Female **Occupation:** **Appearance:** Depiction of a particular well-to-do french woman, attractive in appearance, she has white porcelain skin, and wears jewels around her neck. She has power and she knows it, and she has long, brown, curly hair. **Location:** **Personality/Quirks/Unique Personality Traits:** She is incredibly independent, she is put together and well organized. She knows that though she is in a foreign country she is able of taking care of herself. ** Family: ** **Education: Studied agriculture and business in a small community college in France** **Languages you speak:** French, English, can survive with Vietnamese **Your main concerns at this time and in life:**    __-__
 * A wealthy landowner of a plantation in Saigon, now Ho Chi Minh, in Vietnam
 * <span style="background-color: #ffffff; font-family: Georgia,serif;">Moved to Saigon to promote her business, located in a province near the northern border.
 * <span style="background-color: #ffffff; font-family: Georgia,serif;">Lives alone with her two cats
 * <span style="background-color: #ffffff; font-family: Georgia,serif;">Parents are still in France, supported with Eliane's money
 * <span style="background-color: #ffffff; font-family: Georgia,serif;">Brother died from conflict scuffle of Vietnamese workers regarding wages, is still very bitter
 * <span style="background-color: #ffffff; font-family: Georgia,serif;">She is worried about the increasing tension between the French and the Indo-China community. She is worrying of her slowly deteriorating plantation, due to neglect and is intimidated by the Japanese occupation in Vietnam.

The Life of Eliane Deneuve July 8th, 1937

Dear Diary,

As I sit here and write into these pages, I have felt an aching pain in my heart, and it has become a burden that I cannot bear to share with anyone else here in Vietnam, but you. My mother and father are still in France, under the influence of the Great Depression that still marks an economic crisis for my parents' small share-owners business, and since it is my duty as the eldest child to help provide for them in their time of need, I cannot seem to raise enough money. I have already lain off many of my most eligible workers, and now, I fear that all may be lost. I wonder what incredulous thought had occurred in my mind to think that I, a single woman, could live in a foreign country and prosper greatly. Of course, I had been doing just fine till the recent uproar and constant rumors and my neighbors living in fear and outrage due to the growing tension between Indochina and the French. Though it is quite ironic that my home country and current surrounding are warily outdoing the other, I could honestly care less for either of them. My only concerns are to look after my farm, and to make sure that my rubber stays on the market long enough for me to make a profit. However, I cannot help but feel burdened when my parents send me letters almost every single week regarding the political consequences of the economic crisis of France. They remind me constantly of the new political change, that, due to riots that broke out a year ago, France has adopted the socialist "Popular Front" government. Well, that was honestly a waste of time in my opinion, since all that resulted from that were more riots and a dramatic increase in the Communist party in France. The same resulted from the coalition cabinets that were created to try to appease the population of the growing economic depression, and that resigned not even a week ago, on June 21st. Just because France follows a semi-presidential system does not signify the necessecity of several political parties. When I think of these events, in those moments, I am satisfied living in the northern border of Vietnam, because I am quite happy here, no matter what my parents say to me. After I finished reading my daily letter from my parents, (as I stated before, I can count on daily mail) I decided to stroll outside to oversee my crops, as I do every so often. As I was walking out, I was quite astonished to see a man walking near my farm, observing my crops, and I was elated at the thought of interest in my enterprise, so I walked closer to the man. On closer examination, I was in even more of a shock because I realized that the man was similar in color to me, and not that this was incredibly surprising, but I do not receive many house calls as I do not have any relatives or friends that visit Vietnam (Shocking, isn't it?) But the man's name was Henry Washington, a quite handsome man, and extremely young man! When I inquired what in the world he could possibly be doing in a place like this, he replied that he was on vacation in Vietnam. I was quite intrigued with the thought of an American soldier who would venture to Vietnam for a vacation, and obligingly gave him a fake number, because anyone could tell he was foolishly and helplessly in love with me. But I had no use for a man like him, so I sent him on his way and continued on with my daily duties. Oh dear, I can hardly wait for tomorrow's letter to arrive.

. . . . . ..

November 8th, 1937

Dear Diary,

My parents will never learn of the term "Head notice" because in the letter that they sent me just the other day, they told me that my dear nanny will be coming to stay with me for a couple of weeks until my parents can figure out their stable income. My plantation has not been prospering as well as I would have liked, and nothing has changed in the past three months. I reluctantly put on my best hat and bundled up against the chilly weather and headed to the nearest airport which was only an hour away from my plantation. As I was waiting for the flight to come in from France, I was nearly attacked by this this frisky white woman who started bubbling as soon as she saw me. I was bewildered at the sight of yet another white woman, who was apparently british by the sound of her accent, and I suppose she thought I was british as well. Her name was Caroline Tennant, and she was a british journalist whose occupation was to retell news from war zones. She obviously thought I couldn't speak english, but honestly, I wasn't really paying attention to her babbling. Then, she switched immediately to French, and I was completely taken by surprise, and responded much more enthusiastically than necessary, I was probably excited of someone speaking my native language. She told me that the man in charge of her is sending her to Asia to investigate future wars and skirmishes between countries, and though she was headed mainly for China, she had decided to stop by Vietnam first. I gave her directions to a nearby hotel and would have invited her for tea, but since my grandmother was nearly due, I could only spend a few minutes chatting with her. I only told her of what I knew, that there were many rumors about increasing tension between the French and the regions of Indochina, and when she asked if I knew of any substantial evidence that could exemplify this, I had to reply that I did not, as there were no direct threats yet. Though there are some events that happened almost ten years ago, such as military reforms with vietnamese troops and french generals after the formation of French Indochina, and the Yen Bai mutiny that occurred in 1930 due to revolts from the VNQDD which was the Vietnamese Nationalist Party. I apologized that I was not of much use to her, but she replied that I had given more than enough information. As she walked away, I wondered if I would ever meet her again, but dismissed the thought, never even realizing the possibility of a war. . . . . . . ..

. . . . . ..

February 17th, 1942

Dear Diary,

I have not written in this journal for nearly three years, and nearly forgot about it, but as I was organizing my personal items in case of emergencies, I rediscovered it, and there are many new instances to tell of. Let us start with the case of nearly two years ago, in 1940. Well, for one, war has erupted all over the world. They are calling this war World War II, following the horrible instance not too long ago. German invaded my home country twice, and even I do not know exact details because my parents have long stopped writing to me everyday. I am worried sick about them because I heard that not only did German forces invade, Italy also declared war on France, because the Axis powers needed more manpower, and France decided to sign an armistice to uphold peace within their country. And this resulted in a shift of the political power and the Vichy Regime began in July 1940. It is also called the French State and I find this absolutely ridiculous because it merely granted extraordinary power to Petain, the last Prime Minister of the Third Republic. France desperately wished to keep France in one united piece rather than have it divided amongst the Axis Powers following their defeat and granted, Petain did appease the German forces into allowing this, but I still think that this Vichy is a hoax. Even the citizens in France thought so, because there was no sense of unity whatsoever in France because many of the french colonies joined the Free French forces who were French partisans who wished to continue fighting against the Axis Powers, and then there were the Vichy French. I have no idea how that will turn out, I can only pray for my parents so that they are safe, wherever they may be amongst all that scuffle. I may not seem as heartbroken as I am because I too have numerous problems to deal with as of now. For one, Japan has taken over all military bases in Vietnam from 1940 and have invaded our land, and are currently residing within my surroundings. I am afraid to leave my own house, many neighbors have already fled, and on sporadic nights, there will be japanese troops trampling my plantation. This was during the Second Sino-Japanese War to prevent China from bringing in ammunition and Fuel through our land, due to the railroads and railways that we have set up with France back when we first created French Indochina. Vichy France also has control over us, and the Japanese wanted the railway closed so to slowly isolate China, but they had refused. The Japanese were desperate and they had threatened to invade, and because of that threat, Vichy France decided to allow Japan to station troops in Indochina. I have no idea what to think of right now, because this is a time of war, and struggle and I have lost my mind. I am living in fear and I hate this constant terror. Not only do we need to worry of Japanese forces, not long ago Japanese aircraft bombed the port city of Haiphong, and in addition to that, there are Japanese navy troops guarding the ports. I have let out all of my fears and greatest burdens onto you, dear diary, and am now merely waiting for something better to come, some sort of sign that will assure me that things will end up right. I feel incredibly guilty in a way, because my home country's interference with these issues have been causing me and my neighbors great pain. But, I have been alleviating myself by offering the little I have left to those who have wound up in concentration prison camps that are stationed here in Vietnam. There is one extremely in close vicinity, the one in Saigon, and I have been sending goods, rations, and any scrap of clothing and food that anyone can spare, which is not much. I am so desperate, and I am going through the lowest part of my life yet. But then, there is a sign of comfort, and a gift from God himself, and it came in the form of a man named Samuel Wilson. There was a knock on my door later that evening and who should stand at the door but Caroline Tennant, the perky war journalist, who obviously, came at the right time, with a gentleman in stow. He was a British officer that had escaped from the concentration camps after he had been captured by Japanese soldiers. I will not specify what happened between us, but that night, I had forgotten all about who I was, and the troubles that I was going through, and it was that one sweet night of relief that made my get my head together. In the morning, he was gone, but I did not need him. I was fine being alone, and now I felt hopeful for the future. We shall see what is to come. . ..

. . . . ..

April 4th, 1942

Dear Diary,

Though I had wanted to be strong before, I feel like all is lost. I still have not heard any news from my family, and I am worried sick. My beautiful brown hair has turned to an ashy brown and I feel a fit of hysteria whenever I imagine what has happened to my family. I had an unexpected visitor that day, one that shocked me to the roots of my aging hairs, it was a man named Naoto Kamino. He was very obviously Japanese and he had around three other Japanese troops behind him. I could not understand what he was saying, but his face was very stern, and I tried to comprehend what it was they could want. And then, it hit me. He must be here for information regarding Samuel! The one who left me early in the morning, the one who had escaped, oh God, why did I get involved in this? I do not have the energy to defend myself! But fortunately for me, words were not needed. They simply stormed into my house, barking words in Japanese, and the soldiers proceeded to turn my humble home inside out. No matter how I cried and shouted at them to stop, pleaded with them to cease, they would not listen, and finally, when all of my belongings were on the floor, they finally realized that Samuel was no longer residing in my house, and they left. After they had left, I sat and contemplated the weight of the disaster that now sat on our hands. The Japanese had so much power in Vietnam, that even I, a respected plantation owner, and a formerly rich one at that, had been scoffed and disregarded as if I were a bug. Times have changed, and I had better get used to it. The Japanese officer's visit reminded me of the young American soldier I had met almost five years earlier who lived in Pearl Harbor. I had heard that the Japanese had also bombed Pearl Harbor, and shocked the American naval and air forces. It was a terrible loss for their country, but honestly, it was one that did not affect me, and though that sounds heartless, I have no time to have compassion for others when I cannot even take care of myself. I pray to God that times will get better, because at this point, I have no one to turn to. . Oh woe to those who bring on such things as war, all I wanted was to live happily with my plantation and yet. . . . . <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">