4 posts tagged “viet nam”
April, 2009
"Back in the World" - a phrase we vets often used to refer to home while we were creeping around the rice paddies of Viet Nam. Well, I'm back in the world after another whirl-wind trip to Viet Nam. How wondrous strange to go from the Huong Giang (Perfume) River in Hue to the Potomac River in Washington, D.C. It never fails to amaze me and I never tire of the juxtapositions in latitude and longitude. It's been a cold, uneven ease into spring here on the East Coast. I've just returned from 18 days in the extreme heat of the central region of Viet Nam. The rains were just beginning around Da Nang and the first rice crop of the year was already in the midst of harvest. I took the train from Ha Noi to Hue. As the countryside slid past from north to south, the fields assumed a more golden tint. Sections of green and golden paddy were cordoned off with meter after meter of plastic sheeting to protect the crop from rat infestation. Weed-whackers are now used to cut the endless hectares of rice-shaft - a change in the last few years from the tedious, labor intensive hand-cutting with rice-hooks. These are small changes, un-noticeable to most Viet Nam travelers, but not un-noticeable to me as I've traveled the past 21 years in this fabulous landscape.
Once again, and it seems timeless, we were four full days in the area west of Hoi An and Tam Ky known to the U.S. Marine Corps as simply "The Que Sons." The region encompasses an area about the size of two or three large U.S. counties. The western extreme is probably Hiep Duc and the governmental center is Que Son City - not exactly the garden spot of the universe, but Que Son City gives you access to Deo Le. I'd love to describe what's there, but fear doing so would open it up to every scroungy back-packer who ever thought he was leading the life of Jungle Jim in Viet Nam. At age 65 I've humped this region from grid square to grid square. If you don't know what "humped" means, stick to reading about all your friends' fantasies on the Lonely Planet website.
Goodbye, Friends!
Next month starts another long-term departure to Asia for more traveling, history, and updates on my favorite stomping grounds. I'll be conducting another select group of people throughout Viet Nam with a long stop-over in the Ly Ly River region and the Que Son Mountains. Watch this site for stories and pictures. I can't wait to get back to the 'bush.' People ask me: In today's economy, people are still getting on airplanes? The truth is, during these frightful times when everybody is hiding their heads in the sand, this is the best opportunity to go on that long overseas trip you've been dreaming about - and haven't acted upon! If you don't believe me check out the current airfares to Asia, Europe, and the Middle East. The Cruiselines are also encouraging people to travel through offering heavy discounts. The best time to travel? Every travel pro knows the answer to that - WHEN NOBODY ELSE IS TRAVELING! The Bluegrass news can wait until I get back.
photo by Ed Henry, June 1988
I've got news for you - Dien Bien Phu was not Khe Sanh, and Khe Sanh was not Dien Bien Phu. Last summer I was with a group of Viet Nam Vets at the airstrip at Khe Sanh. The old airstrip for all intents and purposes is gone and the locals have installed a new museum, and some war junk. The most ridiculous item is an old Huey with bogus US Airforce markings on it. It looks like one of those old stripped out airplanes you see in a kiddie playground. The museum contains the most erroneously staged propaganda photos you've ever seen in your life. So most US Vets when they see this stuff just laugh their heads off, go outside and stare at the coffee bushes (they smell nice when they are in bloom - when the wind would blow you could smell the scent of the blossoms all over the Khe Sanh plateau - it almost smells like Sampagita - and its truly a sight to behold). On this certain day we were behind the main building, smoking and joking, and telling war stories. That's what Vets do when they get together 13,000 miles away from home, and it's been a long day of trudging up Route Nine in a 15-passenger Toyota Van and you've just enjoyed a lunch at a local restaurant in Khe Sanh Ville that you now suspect has given you a raving case of diarrhea.
Somewhere on the other side of the museum building we distinctly heard English-speaking voices, speaking in a Brit accent. Our smoking and joking stopped, as we watched some 20 or 30 university students and two male professors come in our direction. They eye-balled us, we eye-balled them, and as one one of the professors ranted on about "America's failure at Khe Sanh" and the "Thousands of aircraft that the NVA knocked out of the air!" we decided we would follow at a distance to see what else this history professor had to say about America's involvement in Viet Nam. It became obvious to a few of the male and female students that we were vets, and that we were being very quiet and patient while we listened to this torrent of misinformed bullshit. And I also suspected they were very afraid to say anything to us because of the dumb smiles we had on our faces.
The entourage headed up the steps of the museum and I said to the group, "This should be interesting. Let's hear what else he says." Then it came out of his mouth. The one phrase I knew was going to be his academic bombast for the day - "This, my friends, was America's DIEN BIEN PHU! (Stabbing the air for intellectual and factual emphasis.) He then proceeded to pontificate on the accuracy of the propoganda photos (you see the same 25 photos in every war museum in Viet Nam) and he pontificated on the battle maps ( all wrong, painted with nail-polish on plywood). By this time a few of the students on the fringe were really getting uneasy knowing that there were actual combatants in their presence, and the two profs were sensing it too. And still, we said nothing, didn't interrupt, had no intention of starting an international incident this close to the Lao border. They spent a total of 40 minutes there and then got back onboard their big luxury tour bus and high-tailed it back to Hue or Hoi An or whatever luxury hotel they were bivouacking in that night.
I felt a great sadness. A deep wrenching pity in my gut for what had just passed as an example of higher education. I felt sorry for Mom and Dad back in England who were footing the bill for it. We discussed for hours what we had just witnessed half-way around the world, and we discussed in depth the subject of whether we should have said something to the pseudo history guys. One of the jokers in the group put it all back into perspective when he started singing the old Beatles song "Let it Be, Let it Be, Let it Be, yeah, Let it Be . ." We all started laughing about 20 kilometers outside of Dong Ha. The sun was fast fading into twilight. It gets dark real fast back in these hills. I stared out of the Van window at the green mountains, the rolling stream that was the Quang Tri River beside us, and every once in a while I would see a Bru tribesman wading among the boulders, trying to spear his dinner for that night. On Route 9 we had to slow down every so often to avoid hitting Bru kids leading the family water buffalo back home. We were the ones who got the education that afternoon.
