Judy and I have been in Vietnam since the 28th of February. We flew from Los Angeles to Taipei, Taiwan on the 26th and then arriving in Hanoi on the 28th as they are 12 hours ahead of EST. The flight from Los Angeles to Taiwan took 13 hours and most of us slept a good part of the time.
Hanoi is a bustling city of 6 million. If one should decide to cross the street along a major thoroughfare, then, be prepared not to stop. The city is home to millions of motor cyclists with few cars or trucks. When crossing the street it’s not uncommon to have a cyclist…whoosh…6 inches or less in front of you as you cross the street. Ironically, they notice you and the trick to the “game” is not to stop under any circumstance.
While in Hanoi we visited the Hanoi Hilton which is now a partial remnant of what it once was during the war. Initially, it was constructed by the French. The Vietnamese guide proudly displayed all of the shackles and torture devices that the French used on their Vietnamese prisoners. When asked whether the Vietnamese used any of these devices on the American prisoners one guide claimed that the American prisoners were better off in the Hanoi Hilton because their countrymen, on the outside, would have probably killed them. Food for thought.
The next day we viewed Ho Chi Minh’s Mausoleum. The line was not long; the Vietnamese soldiers on guard were stern and Uncle Ho was laying down…such tranquility in the People’s Republic.
We also visited a small lake that held the remnants of a downed B-52 and the next day en route to the airport we passed the lake into which John McCain’s jet crash- landed after it was shot down. Next to that lake was a large amusement park with a cafeteria that featured over 150 different entrees, salads, etc.
From Hanoi we flew into the old Imperial Central Vietnam capitol of Hue. For the next two and a half days we toured the city.
The highlight of the 2 week Military Historical Tours centered around the February, 1968 Battle of Hue. Fortunately, for those of us who were not there, we received a bird’s eye account of the month long struggle from 4 of the participants.
Three of these fellows were with Gulf Company of the 2nd Battalion, 5th Regiment.
Bruce “Doc” Gant was a 20 year old Navy Corpsman.
Chuck Meadows was the company commander, a captain at the time and, then, there was 21 year old Lance Corporal Barney Barnes.
Hue is patterned after the Chinese capitol Imperial City to the north. When the 1968 Tet Offensive began Gulf Company was flown to the north because of a small local disturbance. No one at the time knew that the entire walled inner city was being held by over 5,000 NVA (North Vietnamese Army).
Barney was the first Marine to cross the Perfume River into Hue. His two side kicks were shot and went down. By the end of the day Gulf Company had completely withdrawn back to the south of the river.
By the end of the day Gulf had lost 40 of its 150 men; by the time the battle was over Gulf would be awarded 199 Purple Hearts. If Chuck hadn’t withdrawn his men, then, most if not all of them would have been slaughtered. Ironically, the NVA within the 60 ft. thick walls of the citadel did not know how weak the Marine forces were on the other side of the 32 foot high wall. Up until the first moments of the Tet Offensive both the Americans and the North Vietnamese had used Hue as an “unofficial” R and R hangout. Neither the Americans nor their South Vietnamese allies ever dreamed that the NVA would attack the city with such ferocity. For Chuck’s defying his superiors he “only” achieved the rank of colonel after he retired. Every single officer who survived went on to become at least a one-star general including the retired Joint Chief of Staff’s Peter Pace.
Chuck, Barney and the Doc provided an almost day by day narration of the battle as did the 4th member of the battle, Bob Laramy.
Bob was an Arial forward observer who was shot down over the city. His pilot was killed when the plane crashed. Miraculously, Bob survived the crash with a broken leg plus many cuts and bruises while snipers shot at him as he crawled to safety. His injuries ended his career.
It should also be noted that over 3500 civilians were executed by the NVa when they overran Hue. Most of these were doctors, lawyers, teachers, accountants and professional people.
Hue now sports a 20 story hotel plus a walking trail along the Perfume River.
After the two week tour was over Chuck, Barney and Doc Gant were driven to a tiny ville near the coast where a library was dedicated in Chuck’s honor by many of his former Marines. Several libraries and public facilities have been given to the Vietnamese people by members of the 5th Marines in honor of those who were killed. Chuck is also affiliated with Peace Trees, an organization responsible for planting trees in Vietnam.
Next, our party of 15 left Hue bound for Khe Sanh and the Laotian border. The old abandoned Marine Corps base now sports a museum dedicated to all of the misfortunes perpetrated upon the Vietnamese by the Americans. There is nothing left of the old base.
Two members of our group were Bill and Tim DeKuiper. Bill is a 67 year old former Marine and communications expert who pinned a Major’s gold oak leaf on his son’s lapel at Khe Sanh before we ate lunch. For all of us former Marines it was a stirring moment.
Over the next 4-5 days we toured many historical sites in the northern part of central Vietnam.
We walked across the De-militarized Zone and visited the “Rock Pile” and Mudder’s Ridge.”
One of us, Tom Kilduff, had been on Mudder’s Ridge in 1967 when he ran to the bottom of its ravine in order to pass along some ammunition. His company was pinned down. One among ten, only Tom and three others survived. Yet he lived, Tom was severely wounded in the leg, was carried to a pad from which a helicopter would take him to a hospital.
Tom woke up in the hospital to discover that a mortar had exploded near him as he lay on the helo pad.
He lost one testicle, suffered a broken neck had two plates put into his skull and, yet, miraculously, survived after being in a hospital for two and three-quarters years.
Tom hired a few local Vietnamese who helped him locate exactly where he was wounded. He took some soil from the site back with him. By the way, Tom has adopted an entire Vietnamese family in Dung Ha.
Speaking of Dung Ha, we visited an enormous Vietnamese Army Cemetery just to the east. The Vietnamese go to great lengths to honor their dead. It is estimated that there are over 300,000 NVA and Viet Cong soldiers who are still missing or unidentified.
At this cemetery there were hundreds of people because it was some type of national holiday.
One Vietnamese was an old soldier decked out in uniform with a stern countenance. Tom took me to the fellow and the two of us shook hands. According to Tom the old geezer tried not to smile but was unsuccessful.
The one night our tour group stayed in Dong Ha was memorable for the evening’s dinner in the hotel’s upstairs.
The tour guide, Mr. Tranh informed us that the mayor of Dong Ha wanted to meet us.
As it turned out the mayor was a 76 year old former Viet Cong officer who, after the conclusion of the war, had been awarded the mayorship of Dong Ha for his service.
This old codger could not speak one word of English. A few at the dinner table quickly recognized that he was drunk as he stood at the head of the long table and began a 20 minute speech or lecture. With his voice raised akin to that of a drill instructor the entire time, the ordeal finally ended with his shaking the hands of each and everyone of us.
Lastly, he shook Judy’s hand and according to Louena Barclay who was sitting next to me, “He appeared to want to put the make on Judy.”
We also visited a site close to the DMZ where helicopter pilot former Captain Ben Cascio extracted 5 severely wounded Marines in April, 1968.
Ben, a man of 69 years, modest to a fault, flew onto a “hot” landing zone at 3 A.M. The Marine unit on the ground had taken many casualties and most of the unit was still under fire.
Ben landed his chopper right onto the strobe light in order to extinguish the light.
Immediately, his chopper came under fire. Another pilot in the air said that the night was lit up with hundreds of tracer bullets that all converged on Ben’s chopper much like the spokes of a wheel.
Ben’s co-pilot was shot dead, yet, Ben and his one aid managed to pull the 5 wounded on board. The front of the chopper was hit with a rocket; the windshield was shattered. Ben lost one eye and his other eye was badly injured to the extent that he was now completely blind.
With his crew chief, Bob Bush helping--Bush managed to tell Ben how much he had to lift the chopper’s levers in order to get airborne.
Miraculously, while completely blind, Ben steered the chopper 6 miles east to the coast where he landed the craft successfully.
Ben lost one eye and after several operations his one good eye was saved although with 20/60 vision; just a shade under legal blindness.
According to Bob Bush who was responsible for the maintenance of the chopper as well as being crew chief, the chopper had 505 bullet holes in it.
Until 1988 Ben had no idea what ever happened to the 5 Marines who he extracted from that site until he met them at a reunion. He said that he was completely overwhelmed. Needless to say, Ben, just like Bob Laramy was forced to retire from the Marine Corps. Oh, by the way, Ben felt that we did find the actual site or that we were close to it.
After passing the beginning of the Ho Chi Minh Trail(it is now paved) near Cam Lo we walked one and a half miles off from the paved road in order to locate a fire support base situated about 5 miles south of the DMZ that was held by the 9th Regiment.
Stuck out in the middle of a rubber tree plantation, this now defunct artillery support base was home for Bob Barclay, another forward observer officer. Bob was certain that our group had successfully located the site. It brought back many memories and Bob broke down for a moment or two as he remembered the other two FOs who came over with him to the site at Con Tien and who were killed there.
The final 3 days of the Military Historical Tour took us south through the 6 mile long tunnel through Hai Van Pass. During the war this pass could only be accessed via truck over the pass and not through the new tunnel. This route is the only rational thoroughfare to the south from the north and vice versa.
As bad as the fighting was in Quang Tri Province, there were more American casualties in Quang Nam Province or the region that encompasses Danang and the region to the south.
Just to the southern outskirts of Danang we drove past the remnants of the 1st Marine Regiment’s base camp. It was in this area and along the South China Sea that I served for 3-4 months from late 1970 through the first two months of 1971.
For one full day we excursed through An Hoi where Chuck, Barney and Doc served for most of their time in Vietnam. This area was a booby-trap hell and, unfortunately, the air base at An Hoa had more Agent Orange dumped in and around it than any region in Vietnam.
The next valley and mountain range directly to the south is collectively known as the Que Sons. This is the “lovely” location of my first posting in Vietnam from May through September, 1970.
The Que Son Mountains was a major infiltration route for the NVa and a prime hideout for the Viet Cong. It was never brought to heel as operation after operation through this rugged mountainous outpost failed miserably.
While in Que Son Valley we drove to the western end of the valley where Landing Zone Ross was located.
Although the base is now gone there are still remnants of underground bunkers plus an enormous marble and granite monument to all of the NVA and Viet Cong who lost their lives in the area.
It was apparent that not only this monument but also the ones at An Hoa, Khe Sanh and other sites were not being kept up. In fact, for what it is worth, a Vietnamese who met his girl friend at the LZ Ross Memorial urinated on the wall at the base of the granite wall that had all of the thousands of inscribed names on it. But, then, many Vietnamese think absolutely nothing about pissing anywhere, any time regardless of who is watching. Go figure.
That afternoon we ate lunch at a crowded Chu Lai outdoor restaurant operated by “Linda,” an elderly Vietnamese who was sent to a “re-education” camp after the April 30, 1975 fall of Saigon and the virtual elimination of all American military forces from Vietnam.
She is now doing well and her restaurant was bulging with patrons. Most of them were women as it was “Women’s Day” all over Vietnam. Several of the elderly women had to be carried out on their backs because they were so drunk. It was hilarious.
En route back to Danang while driving north we stopped at a livestock market along Highway #1. The sights and smells were memorable. Upon leaving our bus driver discovered that the left inside dual tire at the rear was going flat.
The bus driver drove slowly for about 2 miles until a gas station was found. The gas station operator fired up the generator, took off the lug nuts with a compressed air socket gun and made the repair to the inner tube. The entire process to place on the shoulder of Highway #1, a busy road, and after one hour we drove away. According to Bill DeKuiper the mechanic was covered from head to toe in grease and oil. Oh, yes, and the bill? It amounted to $2.48.
Just to the south of Marble Mountain and barely off of the Highway #1 coastal road sits a small house that has been converted into a museum, tiny cemetery and memorial site dedicated to one Mr. Tran. As it turned out, Mr. Tran was a Viet Cong who, sometime in either 1965 or 1966 placed explosives on a nearby bridge. It was Tran’s intention to blow up the bridge just as the Secretary of Defense, Robert S. (Strange) McNamara and his entourage drove through.
Sadly for Mr. Tran, the device was discovered, Tran was implicated, tried and, finally, executed. When Bob Laramy, one of our tour guides, heard about the memorial he passed this information onto General Davis of the Marine Corps (Davis is now deceased).
Davis was reputed to have said that the Verrazano Bridge should have been re-named the Tran Bridge in Tran’s honor.
Message parlors abound. Tom Kilduff, Bob Barclay and I received a 1 hour body message plus a 1 hour leg and foot message for about $7.50. Three young Vietnamese girls worked us over (good). Unlike a Swedish message, the Vietnamese version is more aggressive and rigorous and is anything but soothing. The girls are tiny, yet, they are incredibly strong.
No kidding: One forgettable day about a week and a half ago we set out from our hotel. As Judy and I walked along the sidewalk toward the beach we ran across an English speaking couple. I asked whether they were Americans.
“Goodness, no, are you kidding?” he quipped.
Then, we walked into the “Phuoc U 2” restaurant for lunch once we made it to the beach. When we went inside none of the menus were in English and the waitress who took our order had no patience with us, whatsoever, and threw the Vietnamese menu at us. We walked out.
Then, as we walked along in search of another restaurant we were approached by a taxi driver.
“Hey, don’t you remember me?” he asked of Judy.
We never ran across the fellow who claimed that we had taken his name and phone number; that we would call him should we need a ride.
Tom was this taxi driver’s name. In fact, we had never met this “tom,” but he now filled our ears with how the Americans had left his father, a pilot, high and dry when they left the country in 1975. When he suggested that he drive us south past Chu Lai to the location of the My Lai massacre we cut our losses and kept on walking.
Finally, we found refuge at “The Blue Whale” restaurant. When our food arrived our waitress stood next to me in case I could not feed myself. Consequently, most of the other patrons near us just stared at the two of us which, in turn, made Judy nervous because she was eating, unsuccessfully, with chop sticks.
It was just one of those days.
Many of the Vietnamese in the south who sided with America or who were thought to be sympathetic usually had all of their property and possessions taken away. For instance, we were driven around downtown Danang for an hour and a half by a “cyclo.” He was now 65 and he had driven a fire truck on one of the American bases in Danang during the war. For him and countless others there have been no job opportunities, he lost everything, yet, he spoke English very well.
Also, most of the former ARVNs or members of the South Vietnamese Army had been conscripted as had the soldiers who filled the ranks of the NVA. Not one South Vietnamese soldier is buried in any national cemetery.
Even today we were told by a few Vietnamese that the government can take what you have at any time.
Most Vietnamese drive motorcycles limited to less than 130 cubic centimeters or less. Few, if any stop at stop signs and traffic lights are almost non-existent. Even though there are several one-way streets in Danang it is commonplace for drivers to drive against traffic on a one way street. It is also noteworthy that not everyone drives with their lights on at night.
Accidents abound. Over 13,000 lose their lives every year on the roads and highways. In Quang Tri Province, alone, one person is killed everyday on average from mines or booby traps left over from the war.
Life is still cheap. We ran into several French couples in Danang who were in the process of adopting Vietnamese children. For that matter, Vietnam is a vacation destination for numerous French men and women. In fact, one day while walking in the downtown Judy was offered a young baby for sale.
The cities in Vietnam are not known for their cleanliness. Garbage is routinely burned wherever space permits. In the countryside garbage is littered everywhere.
Cell phones are used by nearly everyone, young and old alike. The nation’s cell phone coverage is far superior to that of the United States.
Electricity is available to most homes even in the remote regions in the western mountains. Television sets are everywhere even among the Montanyards.
The Montanyards or the Hill People are openly discriminated against with impunity. Most of Vietnam’s cash crop agricultural force is made up of these hill tribe workers who pick most of the coffee beans in the Central Highlands.
There is not much variety of food offered in most restaurants. Beef is somewhat scarce as is pork. Fish and shell fish is abundant but poorly prepared. Chicken is offered almost everywhere but most of it is grown at Auschwitz Farms; it is tough, tasteless and scanty on the bone. Grocery stores are not abundant nor is there public transportation with buses readily available. Few people in central or northern Vietnam speak English or another foreign language.
Taxis, beer, food and hotel rooms are all cheap, sometimes in the extreme.
Vietnam has numerous untapped natural resources. For example, in the western end of the Que Son Valley where I was stationed gold has been discovered. Oil drilling is in the process of commencing off of the coast in the South China Sea. Sadly, the untapped resources of the People are not being utilized. Little is being invested in roads, universities or even basic education. However, the resorts are under construction all over the coastal regions and, yet, the hotels are not even close to being one-quarter filled. Oh, yes, and the flag is flown; the yellow star with the red background and Uncle Ho’s prominent face is featured everywhere.
Ho loved the People; the People love Ho. Nevertheless, if you want to get anywhere in Vietnam even within its restricted parameters, one must pay homage to the thugs who rule here.
So much of it is just below the surface. One rarely sees any uniformed policemen. Interestingly enough, we learned that our Vietnamese guide, Mr. T. who works for Vietnam Tourism, the official government tourist agency is a policeman. One of our taxi drivers described Mr. T as a bully and a thug. And, so the flag is flown. Whatever it takes to keep the dogs off of one’s back.
On the whole the Vietnamese people were very kind to us. The menial workers in the hotels and the restaurants were more than gracious and hard working. But, the sidewalks are full of aggressive hawkers and taxi drivers trying to solicit a ride. Just about everything one wishes to purchase is bartered.
The Vietnamese who live in the country cannot be placed into one of the world’s established religions. The peasants or farmers are animists—they worship animal spirits and are quite superstitious. Several city dwellers said, roughly speaking, that 80% of the people are not religious and the rest are a mix of Buddhists, Catholics or Cao Dai (they worship Buddha, Jesus, Mohammad, Confucius and one other Asian Deity). We attended one Catholic Sunday service in Danang’s cathedral and it was packed.
In conclusion, we have now spent one month in Vietnam. Next on our place to visit is the old French Central Highland resort of Dalat situated at nearly 5,000 feet elevation. On April 2 we will stay at Hoi An, a 17th century Chinese enclave plus a couple of days at Halong Bay which is located about 65 miles east of Hanoi.
Having one heck of a time downloading photos to send so this will have to do for now.
1. A telephone repairman's biggest nightmare in Hanoi
2. Hanoi and Uncle Ho's Crypt
3. Keepsake Memorial in Hanoi of a downed B-52
4. Hue street scene
5. Side street in Hue
6. Tourist boat on the Perfume River in Hue
7. Entertainers at hotel in Hue
8. Family of 4 on motorbike - common scene
9. House on stilts - a common site in mountains towards Laos
10. Rural family graveyard
11. Boats for poor fishermen - their homes also
12. Extracting from a rubber tree
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