PRESIDENT'S UNDERGROUND COMMAND CENTER

Military maps line the walls of the underground command center below the former Presidential Palace

It’s so quiet down here and empty. Lonely even. As far as I can tell, I’m the only one down here. I’m below ground, only this time I’m under Saigon's former Presidential Palace. I’m in what used to be the most technologically advanced basement in all of Vietnam. More than a basement, I’m in an underground military command center.

It’s late in the afternoon, and the other visitors have left, so I have the entire lower level all to myself, and it's eerie. I’m in the command room where maps line the dark red walls. The huge maps reach from the floor to the ceiling. There are even more maps down here, than there were outside the president’s office a few levels above me. In a military command center, field communications are crucial. That takes a lot of electronics equipment, so most of the rooms down in this maze are devoted to communications. Much of the old American made equipment still remains, although all the cables are gone. In room after room, I find transmitters, teletype machines, receivers, switchboards, and old rotary phones. Signs in imperfect English list the former function of each room: “THE SIGNAL TEAM CHIEF ROOM”, “FIXED RECEIVING SITE SECTION”, “TELETYPEWRITER SECTION”, and “THE HIGHFREQUENCY RADIO ROOM”. 

Once buzzing with military activity, the President's command center is now eerily empty

Farther down a hallway, I enter a small room with only a twin bed, and two phones on a night table. It’s nothing special; only the elaborate wood frame of the bed gives a hint of its former importance. The sign reads, “THE COMBAT DUTY BEDROOM OF THE PRESIDENT”. Thieu may have slept down here during the Tet offensive when the palace was briefly under attack, but he was long gone before the tanks arrived in 1975.

Captured US made radio equipment is still found in many rooms

Down the hall near the kitchen, I get to a nearly bare white walled room. It’s been emptied of its contents, leaving only a desk, chair, and an empty gun rack for M-16s. This was the “SECURITY SECTION” for the president’s guards. An elite group, the guards even had an indoor shooting range in the back of the palace to keep their shooting skills sharp. During Thieu’s years in power, his security team protected him well for most of the war years. But when the communist tanks finally invaded the city and broke through the front gates, they put up no resistance at all. With the palace captured, the remaining loyal palace staff and guards were arrested, with most were sent off to ‘re-education camps’. They joined hundreds of thousands of South Vietnamese soldiers and government officials in the camps, some never to return. 

Old Motorola radio gear, originally given to South Vietnam as aid from the USA

Even though I’m below ground level in this bunker basement, I come across stairs going further underground. Access is blocked here, but I can’t help wondering if this is the escape tunnel going to the former Deputy Governor’s Palace, where the former dictator Diem hid before he was killed in the 1963 coup. As curious as I am, I go no further. I’ve heard that section of tunnel isn’t safe anymore. Plus, as an American in Vietnam, I wouldn’t expect much leniency if I was caught in a restricted area. I really don’t want to spend time in a Vietnamese jail.

Having already seen the lowest level of the palace, I decide to go see the highest. After climbing a few flights of stairs in dingy stairwells, I find myself up on the palace rooftop. As I reach the top level, I’m startled to find myself on a large covered terrace, that was once used for official receptions. A riser to one side of the terrace must have been used for live bands. Perhaps President Thieu and his wife once waltzed across this fine wooden floor, as ministers and honored guests looked on. With more interest in the surrounding scenery, I open the clear glass doors, and step across to the back railing.

On the adjacent rooftop below, I’m surprised to see another Huey helicopter parked there, marked with the flag of South Vietnam. Back in the day, President Thieu used to fly around to the provinces by chopper, meeting politicians, and rallying the troops. With the war on, flying around the country was much safer for him than driving.

Rooftop of the Palace. A Huey chopper once flew President Thieu around South Vietnam. A red circle marks an old bomb strike from 1975.

From this same vantage point, I can see the sight of the second airborne attack on this locale. In the spring of 1975 as the ARVN defenses were crumbling, a South Vietnamese pilot decided to defect to the communists. He took off in his US built F-5 jet, and before heading north, he unleashed two bombs onto the rear section of the palace, where the president’s living quarters were. Out in front of the parked Huey, two large circles have been painted on the repaired rooftop, marking the bomb strikes from the pilot’s asassination attempt. A large piece of rusty bomb shrapnel lies close by. Since the palace had been built strong enough to survive an attack, no one was killed, but it was another propaganda victory for the communists. With an audacious attack on the palace, it was becoming evident that the end was near.

US made F-5 fighter that was flown by defector to bomb the Palace shortly before the war ended

Walking to the opposite rooftop railing, I look down on the front lawn. When the final push came weeks later and the NVA tanks broke through the front gates, the tank crewman scrambled out of their armored vehicles and ran right into the palace. Encountering no resistance, one of the crewman ran all the way up the stairwell to the roof, and stood at the railing where I am now. As TV news cameras rolled, he then waved a Viet Cong flag from the rooftop, for all of the world to see. The communists had taken the palace, and the war was done. Looking around me, I’m amazed to see that there is no plaque up here to mark the event.

For some time after the surrender, the former Independence Palace became a government office building. For a while it was officially named the “Office of the Military Management Committee of Saigon”. A giant portrait of Ho, two stories tall, hung above the front entrance. That portrait has since been removed, perhaps because the current government has become less dogmatic. Still, there is a flag flying from the palace rooftop today, only now it’s the flag of the Socialist Republic of Vietnam. 

View from atop the Palace, from the exact spot where a North Vietnamese soldier waved a Viet Cong flag to signal the end of the war.

 

WHERE DID THE VIETNAM WAR END? HERE.

'Independence Palace' where the Vietnam War ended

This is where it all ended. After decades of destruction, and the loss of over two million lives, the Vietnam War ended right here.

I’m standing at the front gates of the ‘Independence Palace’, the previous government’s version of the White House. Other official listings refer to it as “Reunification Palace’, and also as the ‘Presidential Palace’. Like so many locations around the former Saigon, this site seems to have an identity crisis.

I peer through the palace front gates at the very spot, where on April 30, 1975, that the end came. In dramatic fashion North Vietnamese Army tanks crashed through these very gates, and quickly captured the palace, bringing about the end of the Republic of Vietnam.

Visitors view a grand Asian carpet near the palace entrance

For such a long war with so much bloodshed, the end of the conflict finally came with no shots fired at all. This is where the dream of reunification for Vietnam, was at last realized. This is also where for Vietnam, the dream of democracy died.

When the end of the war came, all the leaders who had started this war were already dead as well. Ho Chi Minh was dead. Ngo Dinh Diem was dead. Even the two US presidents who had brought America deep into this war, John F. Kennedy and Lyndon Johnson, were also dead. The war had outlived them all. Finally, the war itself was dead too.

I look on the grass off to the side of the gates, where two old tanks are on display. One was made in Russia, and the other in China. These are the same types of tanks as those that crashed through the front gates years before. (The actual tank that crashed the first gate is in a Hanoi museum.) Today, through the same front gates, come invading tour buses. This former seat of power is no longer a heavily guarded government building; it’s been turned into an open museum that marks the war’s end.

Former President Thieu's bedroom, his personal items are long gone

Compared to other buildings from the former Saigon government, the palace is relatively new. This address was once the site of a grand French palace that housed their colonial governor. After independence arrived in 1954, the dictator Diem moved in. He lived here for years, until the old palace was bombed during a 1962 assassination attempt. The building was so heavily damaged, that it was torn down. Afterwards this stronger building was constructed with the help of American aid.

Top floor Presidential 'Game Room', obviously decorated in the 1960's

Although designed by a Vietnamese architect, the rectangular exterior looks more like a 1960’s American office building. When the North Vietnamese Army took over the palace, there was some looting, but much of the furniture inside was left where it was. The palace interior today looks much as it was the day the war ended. Filled with Asian décor from the old regime, the building is somewhat of a time capsule. There are elaborate oriental carpets, and Asian artwork adorns the walls. Grand picture windows are bordered with elegant curtains stretching from floor to ceiling.  Dated light fixtures illuminate old office furniture. Walking into this building, I feel as though I’ve walked back in time, finding myself in 1975.

As befits the home and office for a president, there are reception rooms, a banquet room, countless offices, and a large hall suitable for press conferences. To fill the evening hours, upper levels have a movie theater; a library, and a game room.

President Thieu's office, formerly a center of power in Vietnam

Walking to the back of the building, I enter the former residence of the president’s family. Looking around in the various chambers, I see only bare beds and furniture. I find no personal items or papers left behind by the former first family. There was more looting here than in other parts of the palace, and the president’s clothes and possessions are long gone.

Some odd items remain, including model boats, and three hollowed out elephant’s feet,  the kind used for umbrella stands. Back in the 1970’s, the government here was more worried about saving the country, than they were about saving Asian elephants.

I make my way to an upstairs floor in the palace, entering a large corner office decorated with a touch of luxury. A landscape painting overlooks a large wooden desk. On the desktop, a red rotary phone that hasn’t rung for years sits silent. To the front, meeting chairs sit empty; there will be no more urgent consultations here. A rather tacky stuffed jungle cat bares its teeth atop a nearby dresser.

This office was once a center of power in Vietnam, but no longer. It’s political importance ended long ago. Like much of the palace, the room is now silent, and empty. A sign in four languages says, “OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT OF THE REPUBLIC OF VIETNAM”.

In this office, sat President Nguyen Van Thieu. A former general, he supported the coup against the despised dictator Diem in 1963. After Diem was overthrown and killed, various military men took control. Eventually, with the support of the US government, Thieu was elected president in 1967. He would hold onto power in South Vietnam, almost until the end.

I look closely at the painting behind the desk, wondering if it was actually here when Thieu occupied the office. It’s an idyllic coastal scene; such a peaceful view of a country that was so devastated by war at the time. Thieu’s carpet and curtains are all bright red, the color of good luck. For Thieu, his luck was not to hold out forever. From this office, try as he might, his control of South Vietnam slowly slipped away. With corruption rampant and the war going badly, his popularity with the public plummeted. When the American government signed the 1973 peace agreement and the US military departed, Thieu’s days as leader here were numbered.

Adjacent to his office is the president’s map room. Detailed maps of the country line the walls, where Thieu was kept updated on the latest news from the battlefields. When the NVA and Viet Cong made their final drive towards Saigon, Thieu saw the writing on the wall. He resigned on April 21, 1975, and fled the country. He was replaced by his Vice President Tran Van Huong, who tried to negotiate a favorable surrender with the communists. Unable to do so, he resigned a week later and also fled.

Although power hungry, and blamed by many for the fall of the south, Thieu remains the only democratically elected president in Vietnam's history. After his departure Thieu lived for a while in Taiwan and England, before eventually settling in the US, the country he bitterly blamed for abandoning South Vietnam. He died in Boston in 2001.

Final surrender took place here in the Cabinet Meeting Room

Back downstairs, I enter the Cabinet Meeting Room, where the official surrender for South Vietnam finally took place. As I walk in the doors, I encounter a curious looking setup. With a long oval table, complete with ten microphones going round it, the meeting room resembles a mini-United Nations.

It was in this room that the last short term president, General Duong Van Minh, was left to face the music. Duong had briefly been South Vietnam’s president before back in 1964, following the coup against Diem. Minh’s tenure then lasted for three months. This last time, he would only be president for two days.

Minh was chosen to be the final president since he had connections with north; he had a brother who was a  North Vietnamese Army general. With the end near, the hope was that Minh could use his connections to negotiate a surrender beneficial for South Vietnam. But it was far too late. Since the ARVN was collapsing, the communists didn’t feel any need to negotiate.

The unconditional surrender of the Republic of Vietnam was accepted by Colonel Bui Tin, an NVA journalist who just happened to be the highest ranking officer present at the time. When Tin entered the Cabinet Meeting Room, everyone immediately stood up. General Minh approached Colonel Tin, and said to him, “We have been waiting for you since this morning to hand over the government.”

Tin bluntly said to General Minh, “You don’t have any government left to hand over to us.” 

Now a prisoner, Minh was taken by jeep to a Saigon radio station where he publicly announced the surrender, and an end to all hostilities. Unlike other ARVN generals who would serve many years in the bamboo gulags, Minh was only imprisoned for a matter of days, before he was allowed to return to his Saigon home. Eight years later he left for France. Like Thieu, he died later in the United States.

As for Vietnam's hero of the fatherland Bui Tin, he later became disillusioned with communism in Vietnam. The ex-Colonel also left the country to settle in Paris, France, where he still lives today. It seems that the end of the war in Vietnam, didn't bring the kind of 'Communist Paradise' that he had hoped for.

WHAT HAPPENED TO THE US EMBASSY IN SAIGON?

US Embassy after Tet Offensive attack in 1968. (Public Domain)

The foreigner presence here in Saigon has changed completely over the years. When this was the national capital of a country at war, the expat community was large and diverse. There were ambassadors, intelligence spooks, foreign soldiers, journalists and aid workers. But no longer.

Now there’s no war, and this is no longer a national capital. But since the country returned to capitalism in the 1980’s, the city has become the business capital of Vietnam. Nowadays Ho Chi Minh City is all about earning money, and expats making things happen here are all businessmen. More numerous, but less influential, are foreign English teachers. All the ambassadors have gone to Hanoi, though some lower diplomats remain.

With this in mind, I'm heading for the most famous former embassy in American history. I approach the grounds of the former US embassy in Saigon.

Here was the very symbol of American influence in South Vietnam. After more than two decades of American support, billions of dollars in aid, and the loss of countless lives, this is where the US government ended its commitment to South Vietnam. In April of 1975 this virtual fortress was a place of total panic and chaos. TV cameras captured the scene of American helicopters taking off from the embassy grounds as they evacuated embassy staff, Marine guards, and many Vietnamese refugees. They then flew for the coast, landing on the 7th Fleet’s aircraft carriers in the South China Sea. South Vietnam was abandoned to the advancing communists, who captured the city that same morning.

What was left of the embassy was looted. After the war the Vietnamese government took over the old embassy, and Petro-Vietnam, a state owned oil company, moved into the offices.

In 1990's the building was used by Vietnamese oil company. By Mztourist License: CC BY-SA 3.0 No changes)

When diplomatic relations were re-established in 1995, the American government managed to get their old embassy property back in the process. Visitors to the rooftop were surprised to find old tattered sandbags leftover from the final evacuation two decades before.

Petro-Vietnam moved out, and the old six story chancery building with the rooftop helipad was torn down. Some of the land next door is now commercial, and today a neighboring high rise towers above the current consulate.

Same block today. Much of old embassy is new park for consulate at far right. (By Mztourist License: CC BY-SA 3.0 No changes)

In keeping with its new consulate status, there are fewer staff here. Yet, there’s no discounting the importance of the place. Right down the street stands the former Presidential Palace, where the war ended. Next door is the French consulate. Across the street, the British Consulate. These old foreign powers may not call the shots in Southeast Asia anymore, but western consulates still occupy some of the most exclusive real estate in town.

Back during the 1975 evacuation, history remembers the nightmare of desperation, as thousands of South Vietnamese mobbed the gates here, hoping to escape the advancing communists. As I approach the embassy this morning, another Vietnamese crowd hoping to leave is present at the entrance. There are hundreds of hopeful emigrants gathered outside the consulate, all desiring a visa to travel to America.

The departure of Vietnamese to America is more orderly these days, and visa applications are the consulate's number one activity. Some want to go to America to make money, others to reunite with family that fled the country years before. Like so many in the world who want to become American citizens, they are looking for freedom and opportunity.

Some are also university students. Gone are the days when Vietnamese students learned Russian, and traveled to the Soviet Union to study at universities there. The favored study destinations now are Australia and the USA. More than 9,000 Vietnamese students are currently enrolled in American colleges and universities, and that number is growing.

Looking to a corner of the consulate’s walls, I see a red stone memorial. At the base,  stubs of incense are left in remembrance. This memorial wasn't made for Americans, nor to remember the 1975 evacuation. This memorial is for the Viet Cong sapper team of the 1968 Tet offensive, when this embassy became a battleground. At that time, President Johnson was telling Americans that the Vietnam War was going well. The VC attack at this embassy, along with the Tet offensive, proved him wrong. In the early morning hours of January 31, a group of 20 Viet Cong guerillas blew a three foot hole in the exterior wall, and gained entrance to the compound. Once inside, they battled it out with US Military Policemen and Marines. When the fierce firefight ended hours later, five American soldiers were dead. 19 of the VC were killed, with one wounded and captured.

Like the Tet Offensive, the embassy attack wasn’t successful, and ended with heavy losses for the communists. Although they had entered the embassy compound, the VC weren’t able to enter the chancery building, but they had proved a point. They couldn’t destroy the embassy, but they had turned the site into a battlefield, in the very heart of Saigon. Even in defeat, they had gained a major propaganda victory. The feeling in America changed; it now appeared that the war would drag on indefinitely. After the Tet Offensive, many in America came to believe that that the Vietnam War could not be won, and public opinion turned against the war.

Away from public view in a quiet section of the consulate, there is a garden where the old chancery stood. Here lies another small memorial marker, listing the names of the US servicemen who died here during the attack. As far as I know, this is the only memorial marker in existence within Vietnam, that is dedicated to Americans who died during the long war here.

This may be the only memorial to US war dead within Vietnam's borders. (Public Domain)

Looking at the thick walls and video cameras today, the embassy looks even more secure these days than it did during the war. Like all American embassies worldwide, it has been well fortified to prevent and survive terrorist attacks.

Outside the consulate walls, I see an unexpected sign of security: Vietnamese police wearing army style uniforms. They guard and watch over the consulate, carrying Kalashnikov assault rifles, much like the same weapons the Viet Cong guerrillas used to attack this very site years ago. It is a surreal sight, giving the appearance of communists providing protection to the capitalists. How things have changed. I wonder, is their real job protecting the embassy? Or is their job watching the Americans? Or is their job scaring away potential defectors?

I enter the walk in entrance, and I’m now in the US consulate in Ho Chi Minh City. I’m surprised to see that the guards at check in are also Vietnamese. “You have mobile phone? Camera? Put them here,” the guard says. I grudgingly hand them over. Like all American embassies, security is tight. No cameras or cell phones allowed inside.

Walking past lines of people waiting for visa interviews, I head for American Citizen Services. Upon entry, I find a modern government office. It’s a safe, but sterile atmosphere. A sign of the times in the post-9/11 world, is that US staff in this office are behind bullet proof glass. I’m only here for a simple matter, to install more pages into my packed passport. My turn comes, and I slip the passport under the thick glass to the clerk. Collecting my passport later, one image stands out as I depart: the State Department Seal that hangs on the wall. This is the same large circular logo that hangs in front of the podium at the Secretary of State's press conferences. The difference is the location. The seal reads, “Department of State Ho Chi Minh City”. An official logo of the US government, now bears the name of a man who was once one of America’s worst enemies.

Western cynics would say, “That’s diplomacy.”

But since we aren’t enemies anymore, Vietnamese Buddhists would say, “Nothing is permanent.”

OUTRAGEOUS PHOTO LIE

The 'Dragon House' on Saigon's waterfront. Originally French built, now it's Ho's legacy.

I decide that if I am to really understand Vietnam, I should make a visit to a place down by the Saigon River. Here sits the Ho Chi Minh Museum, dedicated to the old communist himself, Ho Chi Minh. Located in the old French colonial customs building called the Dragon House, it’s appropriately named, since I see dragon decorations across the rooftop.

Statue of young Ho, outside the museum.

Outside stands a statue, depicting a young and beardless Ho Chi Minh. At that time he was known as Nguyen Tat Thanh; he hadn’t changed his name to Ho Chi Minh yet. (He changed his name several times during his life.) It was on this very river front in 1911, that he boarded a boat to leave Saigon, not to return to Vietnam for decades. Most Americans will be surprised to learn, that the next year he even lived in New York for a while. There in the Big Apple, the future president of North Vietnam, and future enemy of the USA, worked as a mere baker. This stay in the states was long before Ho became a revolutionary opposed to the US. It was only later when he moved to France that he would embrace communism. While in New York, he developed a taste for American cigarettes, which he smoked for years afterward.

America's great enemy. Ho loved American cigarettes!

Almost unreconisable, this is Ho as a young man.

Ho never spent much time here in Saigon, since his family was from farther north. Since there are more interesting things to see about Ho in Hanoi, I spend little time in this museum, that's almost void of visitors. Perhaps this is due to the current lack of revolutionary fervor for communism. Another possible reason, is that this isn't the only museum in Vietnam dedicated to old Uncle Ho. There are several of these Ho Chi Minh museums throughout the country! Talk about overkill.

Photo of US troops in Vietnam hanging in Saigon's Ho Chi Minh Museum

What does deserve mention here, is the most ridiculous attempt at propaganda I’ve ever seen. (And that's saying a lot!) Among many photos displayed on the walls, one has an enlarged black and white photo that many students that studied the Vietnam War will recognize. Previously published in an American book, the photo shows US Special Forces soldiers after they returned from a successful combat mission in Vietnam. They wear camouflage fatigues, and carry assault rifles. Some have bandoliers of ammunition across their shoulders, others have had their faces partially blackened for night fighting. Most are smiling, and holding up a North Vietnamese flag that they have just captured in battle.

The Ho Chi Minh Museum took a copy of that same photo, and hung it up in this museum, with this outrageous caption: 

How ridiculous. 

WHERE CAPITALISM BEAT COMMUNISM

An old Soviet made tank in Saigon. Folks today are more interested in Toyotas.

“The Ho Chi Minh Campaign” is the Vietnamese name for the last offensive that finally ended the war in 1975. Located down the street from the old Presidential Palace, the Ho Chi Minh Campaign Museum is today almost an afterthought. As I walked around this museum, I was the only visitor! Besides old weapons and usual photo displays, the biggest exhibit and centerpiece of this museum is a large model of Saigon and surrounding provinces. The exhibit shows troop movements from the war’s final days, ending with the communist victory. With flashing LED lights, it’s a very impressive display. Or at least it was. After flipping a few switches, I found it doesn’t work anymore.

Outside the museum are more captured American made weapons, plus a lot of Soviet built weapons used in the final offensive. I find that what’s most telling about being here, is not what’s inside the museum, but what surrounds the place.

Near the entrance, an old North Vietnamese Army tank sits out front. Soviet made, it is the very image of communist power. As I stand and look at it, I can’t help but notice that behind and above it, is a big sign from the Toyota dealership next door. Toyotas are much more relevant to Vietnamese today, than this rusting Russian tank.

Also on the museum grounds, a Soviet built surface to air missile points skyward. These missiles were once the terror of the skies, shooting down American made fighter jets and heavy bombers. Towering beyond the missile in the background, is the massive Prudential Insurance building, one of the taller skyscrapers in Saigon. Also across the street from the museum, is a Mercedes Benz dealership. I recall the two Mercedes I recently saw with the Prime Minister’s motorcade, along with other American made vehicles.

A Russian built surface to air missile, points skyward over the Prudential Building.

These days the car dealerships are getting much more attention than this museum, and the power of commerce is evident throughout the city. With the rise of business, and the decline of communist dogma, one thing is clear. The Communists may have won the war, but the capitalists have won the post-war.

GRIM MEMORIES & NEW BEGINNINGS

US made Huey helicopter (right) & F-5 jet (left). Captured after the US left, the jet was repainted, 'USAF'.

Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon) is home to the Ho Chi Minh City Museum, where I had discovered the dictator Diem's old tunnels. This should not be confused with the Ho Chi Minh Museum dedicated to Ho Chi Minh, nor with the Ho Chi Minh Campaign Museum. Ho Chi Minh-Ho Chi Minh-Ho Chi Minh!

Does this sound confusing? All of this Ho jargon certainly confuses the tourists visiting Saigon, which may explain the low attendance at all three of these museums. Still, by wandering through these historical sites, I learned that many of these old buildings were once occupied by presidents, prime ministers, colonial governors, and the Americans. After sorting through the propaganda, I unexpectedly found many more fascinating places which were key not only to the Vietnam war years, but to understanding Vietnam today.

An old Huey helicopter sits in front of the old US Information Service building, now a museum

Following the war’s end, the communist government opened one of the world’s most controversial museums. Named, “The Museum of American and Chinese War Crimes”, it became the most visited museum in the country. Later in 1995, when diplomatic relations with the USA improved, the name was officially changed to a less pointed title. As I entered the museum complex, a Vietnamese staffer explained why. “Now we have relationship, more friendship with Americans,” she explained. “We don’t think so much about the past. Change name to ‘War Remnants Museum’.” She’s right in saying that the Vietnamese don’t think much about the past, at least not here. As I look around, I notice that almost all the museum’s visitors are foreign tourists.As I step beyond the walled entrance into the compound, I recognize the 1960’s American architecture of the main building. During the war, this structure used to house the US Information Service. How ironic.

Japanese peace activists play traditional music in Saigon.

Looking around the grounds, it appears as though I’ve walked into a US military yard sale of heavy weapons. There are planes, tanks, howitzers and a Huey helicopter, all booty captured from the ARVN by the North Vietnamese Army at the war’s end.

The very first exhibit is a glass case, holding the book, “In Retrospect, The Tragedy and Lessons of Vietnam.” The author was former US Secretary of Defense, Robert McNamara. The display lists one of his quotes: “Yet we were wrong, terribly wrong. We owe it to future generations to explain why.” After all that went wrong with the war here, McNamara had a lot of explaining to do.

Walking around, I notice most photos here were taken by western journalists. It seems that the communists had plenty of money for weapons, but not much money for quality cameras. In museums across Vietnam they have relied on the foreign press for the war’s best photos. Vietnam was the first war in history where the international press corps had virtually free access to almost everywhere. Having a free press running around Vietnam was something the US military would later regret. Many of the journalists would regret it too. 33 of them died during the war in Vietnam.

In front of the main building, sits an old captured F-5 fighter jet, with new white paint along the side reading, “U.S.A.F.”. It’s a weak attempt at propaganda, since no American held airbases were ever taken by the communists during the war. Although F-5’s were built in America, this jet was captured from the South Vietnamese military after the Americans left, and later repainted.

2 Mercedes with the Prime Minister's motorcade entered the museum compound

The museum has its share of both propaganda, and truth. They focus on American, French, and ARVN war crimes. With numerous official investigations and photographic evidence, it is already accepted fact that most of these atrocities occurred. But there is no balance. Not surprisingly, none of the atrocities perpetrated by the communists are mentioned here at all. In keeping with communist propaganda traditions, the Vietnamese government has not owned up to the war crimes their side committed. As the old saying goes, the winners write the history, at least within their own borders.

The quietest part of the complex, is the war atrocities section. If you’ve ever walked through the Holocaust Museum, these exhibits have the same type of atmosphere. There are photos of American soldiers torturing Viet Cong suspects, and photos from the My Lai massacre. These photos aren’t fakes, they were taken by westerners long before the era of digital photography.

Nearby, are mock-ups of tiger cage like prison cells that the ARVN used to hold Viet Cong prisoners. There is no mention of the bamboo tiger cages that the VC used to hold American prisoners in equally barbaric conditions.

A new Ford SUV with the Prime Minister's security team sits parked by an old US built M-48 tank

A crowd gathers nearby, and I go see what is grabbing their attention. It’s a display on Agent Orange. Here we see the effects on humans from all that defoliant sprayed over Cu Chi, and so many other rural areas. There are numerous graphic photos of Vietnamese children with birth defects. The most moving display is a see through enclosure holding two preserved, badly deformed fetuses whose mothers had been exposed to the toxic chemical.

These displays are so disturbing, that some cannot bear to view them. I met two Indonesian women outside who refused to enter this section. “It’s too sad,” they said. I don’t blame them. As the old saying goes, war is hell, and for many the images here are far too upsetting. The graphic photos and grim displays here, are the closest the average civilian of today will ever come to seeing the horrors of war.

Fortunately, the place isn’t all propaganda and gloom. From a side room, I hear the sound of enchanting Asian music. Entering a large room, I’ve come upon a concert by a group of senior Japanese peace activists. They are playing traditional string instruments, with a lone singer accompanying them. They are surrounded by children’s paintings, and a sign on the wall behind them reads, “Wishing for a peaceful and friendly world.” These seniors were anti-war activists from the Vietnam era.

The concert is not just for the visitors, but also for three communist war veterans that are present for the occasion. One woman is a former Viet Cong, who was captured and imprisoned for years during the war. As the concert ends, she greets the visitors. Looking at me, I’m surprised when she smiles broadly, and reaches out to shake my hand. If she still feels any animosity towards Americans, she’s certainly not showing it.

As I prepare to leave, I see some new vehicles have entered the compound. Looking rather out of place, right in front of an American M-48 tank, is a beautiful new black mercedes limousine. Since it has covered flag posts at the front corners, I reason it must be a diplomatic vehicle. To the side of the tank, looking like a tank in its own right, is a full size black Ford sport utility vehicle. With tinted windows and police lights on the roof, it was obviously a security escort. The motorcade also included a Chevrolet mini-van. They were brought in here temporarily since parking is scarce on Saigon's city streets.

Curious, I inquire if there is a foreign ambassador nearby. “It’s for the Prime Minister,” a helpful staffer tells me. There’s a sure sign of change. Vietnam trusts not only vehicles from Germany to protect their Prime Minister, but also vehicles from America.

Like the woman told me earlier, Vietnamese today don’t think so much about the past, and desire more friendship with Americans. The foreigners have more interest in this museum than the Vietnamese do. Relations have changed between Vietnam and America, and thankfully they have changed for the better.

FIREPOWER: US WEAPONS IN VIETNAM TODAY

A tourist takes aim with an AK-47 in Cu Chi

As I walk through the brush outside of Cu Chi north of Saigon, I hear the sound of gunfire in the distance. Continuing on I’m not just hearing single shots, I’m hearing automatic weapons fire; the sound of machine guns.The shooting grows louder. 

What can this be? Entering the next clearing, I have my answer. My group has arrived at a shooting range run by the Vietnamese military.

I’ve been to private firing ranges before, but this one is bigger, badder, and more deadly. The guns used here aren’t little .22 caliber rifles, or target pistols. This range is for weapons of war, and the guns here were made for one purpose: to kill. For those really into firepower, you can shoot an M-60 here, or even a .30 caliber machine gun.

Captured weapons from the war are available for target practice

I look at their selection of weapons lined up on a rack, and many of them are American made. Most of them were probably captured from the South Vietnamese Army (ARVN) as the war ended in 1975. There are M-16s, M-1 Garands, a Thompson sub-machine gun, and .45 caliber pistols. A smaller rifle available here is the M-1 carbine. Looking at the old rifle, I wonder just where this old weapon came from. Was it captured by the communists, or was it given to them?

One of history’s forgotten details, is that way back during World War II, the US military was for a time allied with Ho Chi Minh’s communist guerillas! Then known as the Viet Minh, they were fighting the Japanese, who occupied Vietnam back then. As the Japanese were a common enemy, the American Office of Strategic Services (OSS) supplied the Viet Minh with thousands of these M-1 carbines. The smaller size and light recoil of the M-1 made it the perfect rifle to give to the Vietnamese, who were physically of smaller stature than most American soldiers. Little did the OSS know then, that some of those same rifles given by the US to the Viet Minh for free, would later be used to shoot at American soldiers 20 years later.

“This is ridiculous! These are no protection at all. You can go deaf,”” says a foreign gun enthusiast at the firing line. He’s complaining about the woefully inadequate ear muff protectors they provide to the shooters. He decides not to shoot, and walks away. I’m surprised to see that the Vietnamese Army soldiers supervising the firing line aren’t wearing any ear protection at all. Perhaps it’s a machismo thing. These soldiers that work here over the long term don’t know it, but their daily exposure to loud gunfire is doing irreparable damage to their hearing. Some of them will begin to lose their hearing at a young age.

I head to the firing line, and put on the flimsy ear protection they have. I’ve purchased five rounds for about a dollar each, and the stone faced soldier handling the weapons loads them into an AK-47. I pull the stock into my shoulder, peer through the sights, and take aim at the rectangular red target about 30 yards away. I gently squeeze the trigger.

POW! A cloud of dust goes up in the dirt next to the target. I missed to the left. Maybe the sights are off. Or maybe I’m just a poor marksman. Their cheap ear protectors did little to muffle the huge noise of the gunshot, but I’m more taken at how little kick there was from the recoil.

I switch the AK to automatic fire, and squeeze the trigger again.

PO-PO-PO-POW! In hardly more than a moment, the rifle spurted out the remaining four rounds. Again, it hardly kicked. A larger cloud of dust appeared, right where the first one was. They say that the AK isn’t very accurate, but it makes up for that problem by having a high rate of fire.

Prices per bullet are in local Vietnam currency

In the US this one rifle, the Soviet AK-47, would be forever associated with the communist rebels of Southeast Asia. It later become the favorite weapon of just about every other rebel group in the world. From Africa to Afghanistan, from Latin America to Northern Ireland, they all loved the Kalashnikov.

The AK-47 was a simple design, which made it easy to disassemble and maintain. Unlike the American made M-16 which had a tendency to jam at times, you could drop an AK in the dirt, pick it up, and keep right on firing. Its light weight and light recoil made it a favorite of armies that forced children to fight as soldiers. During the African civil wars of the 1990s, the sight of a child soldier carrying a Kalashnikov was a common sight. You can still see child soldiers today carrying this deadly weapon in Congo and Somalia.

With it’s deadly effectiveness, it wasn’t long before other envious nations began to copy the Kalashnikov’s design, and manufactured it for themselves. Before long the Chinese, the Vietnamese, Egyptians, Ethiopians, and many other Eastern Bloc nations had their own versions. 

A US made M-60 machine gun sits on the firing line

I remember seeing an interview with Mikhail Kalashnikov, the Russian inventor of the weapon. An old veteran of the Red Army, he was quite proud of his deadly creation. I wonder if anyone ever told him how many Red Army soldiers were killed by his own invention, when AK-47’s were used in the 1980’s by the Mujahadeen to fire on the Russians in Afghanistan.

With my bullets spent, a few other tourists take their turn blasting away at the targets. Some pick up the shell casings to take home as souvenirs. They better remember not to put them in their carry on baggage before they go to the airport, unless they want to be arrested.

As we head back to the city, I realize that the Vietnamese Army has taken those old weapons from the war, and turned them into a money making venture. With so many weapons being fired by so many visitors, they are making a tidy profit on all the ammunition used here every day.

I don’t know it yet, but as I continue my journey across Southeast Asia, I will later see other bizarre uses for old weapons. Some of the people I will meet have transformed old weapons and war refuse into things that I never could have possibly imagined.