BORDER BATTLES, CASINOS & MISSING JOURNALISTS

The 'Parrot's Beak' is on the Cambodia - Vietnam border

I'm standing in the extreme southeast of Cambodia, in Bavet Village, right by the border with Vietnam. This part of the country was known to US soldiers during the war as the ‘Parrot’s Beak’, an apt name for the shape of the border which reaches deepest into Vietnam. The tip of the parrot’s beak is only 35 miles from Saigon, which made this border a major smuggling route for the Ho Chi Minh Trail. A lot of blood was spilled fighting over this strategic zone, where communist weapons and troops flowed eastward to fight the Americans.

When the US war ended in Vietnam, that wasn't the end of fighting at this border. Soon the Khmer Rouge began raiding nearby Vietnamese villages and massacring civilians there, as they aimed to take back their former lands on the Vietnam side. That turf is what Cambodians call ‘Khmer Krom’, meaning Lower Cambodia. Their former lands used to reach across this border all the way to the South China Sea, and included the Mekong Delta. It's still shown on many Khmer maps as part of Cambodia today. 

Two of Pol Pot’s powerful inner circle were born in the Delta in Khmer villages, on Vietnamese territory. Ieng Sary, the Khmer Rouge Foreign Minister, and Son Sen, the Khmer Rouge military chief grew up there. Like Khmers living in the Mekong Delta today, they endured discrimination by the Vietnamese. This helped form their dislike for them, even though they were fellow communists. It was these territorial claims that led to war here after the US left, war between the Khmer Rouge and Vietnamese communists.

It was only a few years after the US left, when the Vietnamese Army invaded Cambodia on Christmas day in 1978, on this road where I'm standing. The former communist allies were 'comrades' no longer. This time the invading Vietnamese Army would overthrow the Khmer Rouge.

A 'Winn Casino' limousine by the border. Casinos have taken over the former battleground of Bavet.

As I leave the immigration post and walk into Cambodia, Vietnamese are still invading this border town today. Only now, they aren’t soldiers. They’re gamblers! 

Just steps away from the border itself, I find the Le Macau Casino, VIP Casino Hotel, King’s Crown Casino, Winn Casino Resort, Las Vegas Sun Casino, New World Casino, and finally the Sun City Casino. This former hick border town and war zone, has turned into a gambling haven!

“Vietnam people come here,” a Khmer tells me. Gambling is illegal for the people of Vietnam; a people culturally known for gambling. Enter the current Cambodian government, who built all these casinos only in recent years. More are under construction.

I walk into a couple casinos, finding them small and unrefined. Make no mistake, this is no Las Vegas. There are no elaborate stage shows or magic acts here. They may have pirated some Vegas names for these casinos, but the gambling is real enough. Well, at least these places are air conditioned.

I had already seen the ruin of an old French colonial casino, but these are totally different. The casinos here are obviously for the benefit (or to the detriment of) the Vietnamese. With most of the gamblers coming from across the border, staff here speak more Vietnamese than English.  Since casinos in Saigon are open only to foreigners, (and since Saigon is so close) Bavet is where rich Vietnamese go to gamble on weekends. One casino is literally right next door to the border crossing. Just take the first left after immigration. 

Besides these copycat casinos, there’s not much more to see in this small border town. Poverty is still evident, as run down shacks are situated right next to some casinos. There are a few passable guesthouses in town for those with a gambling itch that want to spend the night.

Poster for movie, starring Sean Flynn

As for food in town, most restaurants here cater to the many buses stopping for lunch. They roll into Bavet from Vietnam on Highway 1, before continuing on to Phnom Penh. On this very highway an unsolved American mystery began. It was here in April of 1970 where journalist and former actor Sean Flynn disappeared. The son of movie star Errol Flynn, Sean had turned his back on Hollywood, and proved himself to be a daring war correspondent. He had years of experience reporting on the Vietnam War, but in Cambodia, the conflict was different. In Vietnam, most foreign journalists captured by the communists were eventually released. But in Cambodia, most foreign journalists captured by the communists ended up dead.

Flynn had been traveling together with Dana Stone, a freelancer for Time Magazine and CBS. Missing here in Svay Rieng Province, they were captured outside the village of Chi Phan, just up the road from where I stand now. The two had crossed the border here in Bavet and headed up Highway 1 on motorcycles, only to be captured by the North Vietnamese Army’s 9th Division.

Years later, it was discovered that the two MIA journalists were moved north to Kampong Cham Province, and turned over to the Khmer Rouge. There the trail disappears. It’s believed that they were executed the next year. In recent years, a dig found bones and teeth that searchers thought may have been Flynn's, but DNA tests showed they were from a Cambodian. His remains have never been recovered. 

Flynn and Stone were only two of the 37 journalists who died during the war in Cambodia, while 33 other journalists died across the border covering the Vietnam War. 

Strangely, Sean Flynn became the single most famous person that was Missing In Action during the long war in Southeast Asia, and he wasn’t even a soldier. 

Memorial in Phnom Penh park for journalists killed in '70-'75 war

Flynn and Stone are among 37 journalists listed as killed in the war

US RESCUE MISSION DISASTER

Otres Beach outside Sihanoukville, with islands beyond

I’m standing on an empty beach. One of the cool things about Cambodia, is that unlike Thailand, there are still many quiet, natural, romantic beaches that are relatively untouched. This one east of Sihanoukville, is known as Otres Beach.

Gentle waves lap at the sands. Palm trees sway in the wind. Cumulus clouds look like white mountains on the horizon. A few small, tropical islands rise from the waters offshore in the distance.

One of the islands far to the south of me is Koh Tang. This island isn't well known to Americans, but it should be. On that remote island off the coast, occurred the very last battle of the Vietnam War.

On May 12th, 1975, after Saigon and Phnom Penh had already fallen to the communists officially ending their wars, the Khmer Rouge took the conflict a step further. Using US made swift boats captured from the Cambodian Navy, they turned pirate. Heading far out to sea in international waters, they captured the SS Mayaguez, a passing American container ship headed for Thailand.

Caught unawares, the US military quickly planned a rescue. The Khmer Rouge had anchored the Mayaguez off of Koh Tang Island, so the main assault focused there. Four days after the ship's capture, the Americans launched a raid to rescue the captured sailors.

Mayaguez after capture, with Khmer Rouge gunboats alongside (photo:USAF)

What they didn't know, was that the 39 crew members weren't even on Koh Tang. In fact, they had been sent to Sihanoukville, and had already been released by boat just before the mission started. The team also lacked the right intelligence on Koh Tang. What they didn’t know, was that the Khmer Rouge based there were already well armed and ready for fighting. They weren't expecting a raid from the Americans though. They were paranoid about a seaborne attack from the Vietnamese, whom the Khmer Rouge also hated.

As the attack began, navy jets from the USS Coral Sea struck targets around Sihanoukville. These included the port's warehouses, a nearby airfield, train yard, refinery, and a small nearby naval base.

At Koh Tang Island, US Marines and the US Navy swooped in. When they boarded the Mayaguez, they found an empty ship! In the air the US helicopters faced unexpectedly fierce ground fire from the Khmer Rouge. It's unknown how many Khmer Rouge died in the battle, but 40 American soldiers lost their lives. In the chaotic aftermath, two live US Marines were left behind on Koh Tang. What happened to them is unknown. Their bodies were never found, and they are still listed as missing in action (MIA). As the captured sailors from the Mayaguez had already been released, the rescue operation had been a disaster. They had retrieved the captured ship, but at a great cost in human lives. 

Since this was America’s last battle of the Vietnam War era, I would like to go out to Koh Tang myself to see the island, but it’s not to be. Otres beach is as close as I’m going to get to Koh Tang.

“The weather this time of year isn’t good. Too windy out there, the waves are heavy,” said Sarah, a divemaster in Sihanoukville. Originally from England, she operates a dive company here with a friend. “The problem is, with the weather this time of year, if you go out there, you might not make it back. You could be stuck there for weeks, maybe months.”

Two downed helicopters on beach, with destroyed Khmer Rouge swift boat at right (photo:USMC)

Recently, an American search team did manage to identify some bones that were found on Koh Tang. After lengthy DNA testing, the remains were identified as Private James Jacques, one of the missing Marines who died aboard a helicopter that had crashed into the sea. He was buried in 2013, in Colorado. Another American casualty of the Vietnam War was finally laid to rest.

That isn't the end of the searches though, as there are still 53 US soldiers missing in action in Cambodia. 

Another Australian diver I met in Sihanoukville, actually worked with an American MIA search team. “I think they’re still looking for one helicopter,” she told me, referring to a chopper shot down over Koh Tang. The search team wanted to go to the island again, but they had faced the same weather problems that I do now.  

As I spoke with the Aussie, I learned that Koh Tang isn't the only place where the US is diving to look for the remains of missing soldiers in Cambodia. The Aussie says that she had been hired by a US team for an underwater search in a river towards the Vietnamese border, where another helicopter had crashed earlier in the war. 

She explained how the river had low visibility. Most of the fuselage was gone, but she did find metal plates, and other pieces that the search team said were helicopter parts. As we chatted more, I asked if she had found any bones, and she clammed up.

Apparently there are still some secrets to be kept here, even though America's war in Southeast Asia has been over for decades.

KING'S FATE IN JUNGLE PRISON

High altitude town of Sam Neua, where clouds pass below the peaks

Fast moving clouds flow quickly across the valley before me. I am so high up in altitude, that clouds are passing beneath the foliage covered peaks beyond. Just another beautiful morning in the Annamite Mountains of Laos, in the remote northeastern town of Sam Neua.

I admire the view in this obscure town, but I’m not staying. I’m only passing through, waiting to board a truck this morning heading further east. Growing impatient, I climb into the front passenger seat to wait. Looking down on the floor by my feet, I find an old US made ammunition case! Opening it up for a look, it's full of tools. It may be rusty, but ammo cases make great tool boxes.

Finally the driver gets in and we depart, driving east into the mountains. Outside town we pass a walled compound with new buildings, and looking in I notice a couple of Russian made military jeeps parked inside. 

During a chance meeting with a relative of the Vice-Governor, I was told me who’s in that compound. 

Old US made ammo case in my ride

“That Vietnam Army base,” the relative told me. 

Curious at the presence of Vietnamese troops still in Laos, I asked, "Why is that base there?"

“To protect the border,” he answered. 

Hmmm... We’re not that close to the border; by road it’s three hour's drive. If they are here to ‘protect the border’, then why are they based so deep inside Laos? I remember the Vietnamese 'general' that I had met on a train to Hanoi. He said he was based on the border, was he based here?

Back during the war, one of the rallying cries for the Pathet Lao rebels, was to put an end to ‘foreign interference’ in Laos. Those who actually believed in this idea were betrayed by the communist leadership after the war. 

When the Vientiane agreement was signed in 1973, all foreign troops were agreed to be withdrawn, and the American advisers and Thai troops left soon afterwards. The North Vietnamese Army on the other hand, remained. In the post war years, Vietnamese influence continued, and so did the presence of Vietnamese troops. As I’ve just seen on the road, that presence continues to this day, although in smaller numbers. 

New bridge in Sam Neua, Laos. Most of the workers are Vietnamese, not Laotian.

The Laotian government’s dependence had merely shifted. They were no longer reliant on America, they became reliant on Vietnam. Even with the cold war is over, some of that reliance continues. Fortunately, most of that reliance is now sent as economic aid, rather than military aid. 

I recall how back in Sam Neua the previous day, I had seen a new bridge under construction over the Xam River. This aid project is led by a Vietnamese construction company, and the laborers were Vietnamese. I had asked a local Laotian about them, and she admitted that those men weren’t very popular here. One thing hasn’t changed over the years; most Laotians continue to dislike the Vietnamese. 

As my Laotian ride takes me deeper into rugged Houaphan Province, I think back to my time in Luang Prabang, and the fate of the last Laotian king. His final years were spent somewhere in this region, in a secret jungle prison. In those post-war years, the bamboo gulags of Houaphan held more than 15,000 prisoners. They were former soldiers, policemen, government officials, and others that had opposed the communists. Some who held high positions were imprisoned for 15 years. Some never left alive. 

The king died in a jungle prison (photo:RLA)

These camps were located in this poor region by the communists, so that they could punish the prisoners through primitive living conditions. In some cases, prisoners were even forced to build their own internment camp! The remote location was also strategic. If a prison camp was located anywhere in western Laos, escape would have been easier with Thailand close by. Since the communists put the prison camps on the eastern border, escape to Thailand was nearly impossible. Anyone escaping east across the border to Vietnam, would probably be quickly captured and sent back to Laos. 

Those imprisoned here never had a trial, and were denied their rights. The Geneva Convention didn’t exist in Laos. Days were filled with hard labor, endless indoctrination sessions, and poor food. Some were executed. Others died of mistreatment, or from denial of medical care. If a prisoner didn’t survive, the government didn’t even give their family an official explanation as to how they had died. I wonder if any of these same prisons ever held any of the American soldiers that were missing in action (MIA) after they disappeared during the war. 

The most secret of these prisons was Camp 5, the gulag for highest level prisoners that were never released. It’s believed that the Laotian royal family were imprisoned there. The king, queen, and two princes died in the camp, and how they actually died was never explained to the public. It's believed that King Sisavang Vatthana died in 1980, from mistreatment, and from denial of medical care. The location of their graves remains secret to this day. Later accounts say the royal family are buried somewhere out here in unmarked graves, much as the Bolsheviks hid the bodies of the Romanoffs. 

Mountains that sheltered communist HQ during the war

In this post cold war era, almost all of the old prison camps in this region have been shut down, but unlike in Vietnam, there is no public access allowing me to see the old prisons that are no longer in use. Not all of these bamboo gulags have been closed though, there are still some prisoners held here, hidden from the outside world. Some sent here recently, were prisoners of conscience. 

When democracy movements began sweeping across Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union, some Laotians in high places began to push for democratic reforms. Much like his patrons in Vietnam and China, the old commie Kaysone squashed any attempt at democracy. Three intellectual government reformists were arrested In 1990, and quickly imprisoned. They included the Vice-Minister of Economics and Planning, Vice-Minister of Science and Technology, and a Justice Ministry official. All were sentenced to 14 years imprisonment in one of the old Houphan labor camps. One of the reformists died in prison in 1998, due to a lack of medical care. The open war in Laos is over, but the secret war against democracy continues.

As our truck rumbles along, the rural landscape opens up, revealing a group of karst mountains to the south. From my distant perspective, I can’t help but think that they resemble a giant six pack of beer. I’m unaware of their significance, but these mountains are my destination. Those towering peaks are Viengxay, and during the war this was the most important stronghold of the communist Pathet Lao Army. I'll be arriving soon. 

MOUNTAIN OF MISSING MEN

Remote Annamite Mountains of Northeast Laos. Few foreigners come here.

I'm way off the tourist trail, maybe the only westerner for many miles. Where I'm going, there are no amenities. I’m heading east out of the Plain of Jars, into a part of Laos even more remote. This half sized, bare-bones bus is taking me into Houaphan Province, towards the Vietnamese border. Few foreigners go there. 

As the rickety local bus chugs along, we rumble our way over the rolling hills east of Phonsavan. But these relatively easy roads don’t last. Soon we are off the Plain of Jars, curving in and out of the Annamite Mountains. Meanwhile, our little chicken bus stops in just about every roadside village along the way. Soon every seat is taken, and the undersized bus is packed. 

Since this bus was made for Asians and not westerners, I don't have much leg room either. With my knees jammed into the seat in front of me, I pull my knees up in a vain attempt to get comfortable. With no seats left, a teenager stands by the open side door, giving us a fresh breeze of air as we drive on. 

This poor guy got sick out the door

There’s no air conditioning on this bus, but since we are in the cool air of the high altitude, it isn’t really needed. The views are gorgeous. Most of the surrounding mountains are covered with trees or overgrowth, and there are few signs of civilization. Looking away from the highway into the distance, few highland villages are visible at all. Even for Laos, the population density in this region is very low. 

The curving, sloping roads of the mountains make some on the bus queasy. As we descend and curve around the swtichbacks, the standing teenager vomits more than once. Now I know why the poor kid was standing by the door.

In some areas, we pass brand new, thin power poles that have just been installed. Strangely, they are painted blue. They don’t have power lines on them yet, but they are coming. It’s an encourging sign of development. First come sturdy bridges, and then a paved highway. Next comes electricity, and improved communications follows. Hopefully more schools, and access to better markets for the farmers will be next.

The highland peoples who live up here, are very different from the lowland ethnic Lao. This is hill tribe country. There are many different ethnic groups here, and some don’t even speak Laotian. The differences up here extend far beyond language, with numerous cultures and religions. Rather than Buddhism, many of these hill tribe folk still practice Animism. 

Old war weapons, some US made, on wall of a northern Laos restaurant today

Driving along one remote hill, our bus passes four teenage hill tribe boys walking by the roadside. Two wear camouflage shirts, and one carries an old US made M-16 rifle, slung over his thin shoulder! The boy is so short, that the M -16 almost looks larger then him. He is dwarfed by the old weapon. 

Further down the road, the bus passes three Hmong men carrying crossbows. Despite seeing these armed men, I don’t think that there was any local unrest going on, at least not today. They were probably just out hunting, since they didn’t even look up at the bus as we passed. In poor remote areas such as this, men have to rely on wild game to round out the family diet. Still, there have been occasional uprisings by the Hmong here, notably back in 2004. 

According to a US State Department report: “Ethnic Hmong in Houaphanh Province launched a series of coordinated attacks on government outposts in an apparent effort to seize weapons located in a government arsenal in Viengsai town. The attack against the arsenal was repulsed, but in the aftermath, the rebels fired on a bus and motorcycle traveling to a market, killing five passengers. Five of the attackers were also killed when security forces caught up with them shortly after the vehicle ambush. Following this incident, fighting broke out between rebels and government troops in several areas of Houaphanh Province; at least 13 soldiers and probably several dozen Hmong rebels were killed in this fighting, and over 100 Hmong villagers suspected of supporting the rebellion were arrested...”

Secret mountaintop American base called "Lima Site 85" (Photo: Wikepedia)

This is one of the most remote regions of Laos, and back during the Vietnam War years, it saw plenty of fighting. Just north of here, not far from the Vietnamese border, is a mountain sacred to the Hmong known as Phou Pha Thi. This mountain also became very valuable to the US during the war, as it housed a secret base. The site is now overgrown and abandoned, so I won’t be able to get any closer to it than the highway, but Phou Pha Thi may have been America’s most secret military installation in all of Southeast Asia. Even more secret than Long Tieng, it was known as 'Lima Site 85'.

This remote mountain housed a small radar installation. Used for tactical air navigation, it was operated by a small group airmen from the US Air Force, working undercover. Since the tall mountain was so close to the Vietnamese border, the radar could reach all the way to the skies over Hanoi, about 160 miles eastward. This remote little base in Laos was an important key, for the American bombing campaign over North Vietnam. 

As secret as this base was, it wasn’t long before the Vietnamese found it. With so many North Vietnamese (NVA) soldiers running around northern Laos at the time, they must have been astonished to find this base so close to their own border. Once located, they quickly set out to destroy it. 

Captured US gear & NVA soldier(Photo:Vtn Archive)

Soon after, the skies over Lima Site 85 were the scene of perhaps the most improbable aerial dogfight of the entire war. The North Vietnamese sent three old Russian Antonov 2 biplanes to attack the remote radar site. When this surprise attack occurred, there were no American fighters nearby to fight them off. So an Air America pilot counter-attacked with the only aircraft available: a Huey helicopter! Since the chopper was faster than the biplanes, an accompanying crewman was able to shoot down one of the biplanes from the door, using only a rifle. Like everything else related to Lima Site 85, the story of this bizarre aerial battle remained an official secret for years. 

With the failure of their air assault, the NVA sent in thousands of Vietnamese soldiers to take the base from the ground. The small mountain installation was defended by outnumbered Hmong militia. When the NVA made their final assault on the radar base one night in 1968, fighting was fierce. As the situation deteriorated, the American airmen joined the battle. 

When NVA commandos managed to climb the mountain and reach the radar site, the airmen’s time ran out. As the base fell into enemy hands, some of the radar technicians attempted to rappel down the steep mountain cliff. But they were killed by the NVA before they could reach the jungle below. 11 of the brave airmen lost their lives, while only five Americans were rescued. 

It’s only recently that the US government publicly honored the men lost on that night so many years ago. In 2010, President Obama awarded the Medal of Honor to the family of Chief Master Sgt. Richard Etchberger of the US Air Force. Etchberger had fought bravely on the mountain, managing to call in air strikes, while protecting other wounded Americans around him. But he didn’t survive. After boarding a rescue chopper, he was shot as the helicopter lifted off from the mountain. Most of the other Americans that died there are still listed as Missing in Action today. Hundreds of Hmong, and North Vietnamese soldiers also died in this unknown battle for this remote mountain, deep in the northeast of Laos. 

THE TANK, THAIS AND RUSSIANS IN LAOS

Remains of Russian built PT-76 tank sits on old battlefield site in northern Laos

I’m at the base of an old battleground in the Laotian village of Nako. This hill has been left to the elements, covered with brush and young trees. No farmers will plant crops atop this knoll, because it’s still too dangerous to walk up there even today. The brush still hides landmines and unexploded ordinance from the battle that took place here. 

There are no ancient relics here like I saw at the nearby 'Plain of Jars', but right on the hillside is other evidence. An abandoned PT-76 tank has been left behind by the North Vietnamese Army! My guide Phin says this part of the hill has been cleared of explosives, so we walk towards the old wreck, without fear of losing a leg to a landmine. 

As tanks go, it’s not very large at all. It’s a lighter Russian built tank, brought by the Vietnamese deep into Laos as they fought to take over the Plain of Jars during the 1964 - 1973 war. Back then there were no paved roads in northern Laos. It was so rugged, that only a light tank could have made that difficult journey. Even then, it appears that this tank traveled all that way, only to get stuck here. It now rests on an angle against a tree, as though it got stranded in a muddy ditch long ago. 

Opposite view of the abandoned tank. Even the treads have been stripped away for scrap.

But Phin tells a different story. “This tank hit the anti-tank mine,” he says. If that’s true, it’s hard to tell by looking at it now. Both of the tank’s treads are gone. Like other abandoned American built tanks that I saw earlier in Vietnam, it has been stripped of everything that could be cut away, and sold for scrap or other uses. Even the hatches are gone. The gunless steel turret is lying upright on the ground just steps away, right under a fence. Strangely, the locals are using the tank’s small turret as a step, in order to climb over the barbed wire. 

As a light tank the armor isn’t very thick. Looking closer, I find a small hole in the side, with shrapnel scars around it. Apparently some kind of armor piercing round struck the front corner. The deadly round was well placed, because it hit right next to where the tank’s driver was seated. I doubt he survived. 

“All the tank drivers were Vietnamese,” Phin informs me. I imagine that most of the North Vietnamese troops that fought here, never imagined that they’d be fighting in Laos. Instead of fighting Americans over in South Vietnam, they were sent across the border into Laos. The only Americans they faced here were pilots in the air. On the ground they fought the Hmong, the Royal Laotian Army, and a 'special' army from Thailand.

The tank's detached turret is now used by locals to step over a farm's fence!

As the war dragged on in Laos, the Hmong troops that fought here on the Plain of Jars suffered heavy losses against the well armed NVA. With few adult men left among the Hmong to replace their losses, Hmong boys joined the fight as child soldiers. This wasn’t enough, and to fill the gap to stop the advancing communists, the Thai military joined the fight. It’s often forgotten that thousands of Thai troops fought not only in Vietnam, but also here in Laos. Back then, (and continuing today,) Thailand and Vietnam were the main powers in Southeast Asia. 

Since the Thai and Lao languages are so similar, Thai soldiers fit in well with the Royal Laotian Army. These Thai troops were tasked with defending many bases and hilltop outposts like this one, leaving the Hmong to conduct combat operations in the field. The fact that Thai troops were fighting within Laos was a closely guarded secret at the time.

We return to our tiny van, and head back towards Phonsavan. Cruising across the rolling hills, we pass more farming villages, green with the growing season. As we drive, Phin recalls what life was like in these villages after the war. “1975 to 1990 was the hungry period,” he says. “Not enough food.” Agricultural collectivization brought shortages to the farmers, and it also brought the Russian advisors. 

Parked chopper above, for MIA search teams

“This was Russian farm,” Phin says as we pass a vacant facility. Pointing the other direction, he says. “over there, was Russian cattle farm.”

The arrival of Russian advisers also meant a revolution in foreign language study in Laos. “At that time, there was no more French in schools. No more English,” he tells me. “Everyone learned Russian.” Phin speaks English better than most Laotian translators I’ve met, but he still wishes he had begun studying it earlier. Remembering his student days, Phin made fun of one of his former language instructors. 

“My teacher tell me, 'Learn Russian. Later, go to university in Soviet Union. In 20 to 30 years, whole world will be communist'.” Then Phin laughs aloud at how wrong she was, given the outcome of the Cold War. “I think, where is she now?” He chuckles. 

As the van rounds a corner, I look up to the sky, and spot a red and white helicopter high ahead of us. It looks like the small chopper that I had taken a photo of earlier. I had seen it parked in Phonsavan, the town where I'm staying.

“That for the US government,” Phin says. “They looking for missing body.” 

Apparently there is nothing secret about the mission of the two US soldiers that I met in Phonsavan in Craters Restaurant recently. Even Phin knows that there are Americans here looking for remains of servicemen still 'Missing in Action' (MIA) from the war.   

Watching the helicopter head for the horizon, I reflect on the past. Years ago, the skies over Laos were criss-crossed by so many US aircraft. There were US Air Force jet fighters, bombers and rescue choppers. There were CIA spotter planes and cargo planes. Now the only aircraft flying over northern Laos under the control of the Americans, is a small helicopter, and it's not even American owned. It's rented from New Zealand!

WEAPONS, CRATERS AND MISSING IN ACTION

Unexploded bombs from the war guard the entrance to 'Craters Restaurant'

A pair of 750 pound bombs are standing upright, on either side of the restaurant stairs I’m approaching. They look like two short, fat, metallic pillars, not dangerous explosives. Beyond them, twin 500 pound bombs are guard the entrance. These bizarre decorations are a permanent part of this establishment; all four of these old weapons of destruction have been cemented into the floor. You couldn’t tip them over if you wanted to. 

This is 'Crater’s Restaurant' in Phonsavan in northern Laos, and I’ve stopped in for dinner. After ordering a dish of noodles, I look around at the unusual décor. Like so many other places in town, it is adorned with the martial refuse from the warring past. 

It’s not just American bombs on display either, decorating the walls inside are a pair of ancient, long barreled rifles, along with an old crossbow. A traditional weapon of the Hmong, crossbows are still used for hunting in this region. The single shot rifles look ancient. These old weapons were the only arms used on the Plain of Jars, until the French, North Vietnamese and Americans showed up. As simple folk from primitive highland cultures, the Hmong were forced to fight in a very modern war. 

Old traditional Hmong weapons mounted on the wall

Against the back wall are a pair of small Buddhist statues, with offerings and incense placed in front of them. They are dwarfed by another old disarmed artillery shell sitting right alongside. It escapes me as to why they would leave a symbol of destruction, right next to a peaceful Buddhist shrine. 

With business slow tonight, the owner’s family is watching a Vietnamese television show, since this dining room also makes up their living space. On the old TV, a Vietnamese chanteuse belts out an American love song. Yes, times here are changing. 

US Recovery team heads for MIA excavation site in Laos. (Photo: JPAC - Press Center)

I hear a familiar accent; turning to a nearby table I notice two casually dressed westerners. Few Americans come to this remote corner of Laos, I wonder, what are these two men doing here? They both have short haircuts, and a serious look about them. Striking up a conversation, I’m surprised to learn that both of them are not only American, but they are also currently serving in the US military!  American soldiers are the last people I expected to find here in Phonsavan, or anywhere in Laos. 

They aren’t in uniform, but they are here to work. Their purpose on the Plain of Jars, is to search for the remains of American military men who are still ‘Missing In Action’ from the war. These two soldiers are on a mission to locate the bones of MIA’s. 

During the fighting here, most Americans involved in the war effort took part in aerial missions, so those still missing on the Plain of Jars were usually involved in aircraft crashes. Hundreds of US Air Force jets, CIA planes and helicopters crashed all over Laos during the long years of conflict from the 1960’s to 1970’s. 

“We have 170 digging sites identified,” one of the anonymous soldiers tells me. Most of the searching is done on old crash sites, and it’s only in recent years that these American investigators were allowed access to these sites to look for remains.

Why put an explosive next to a Buddhist shrine?

Locating the old crash sites has been a difficult task. Many aircraft crashed in remote mountains, where wreckage and pilot remains were gradually covered over by jungle growth. As for aircraft that crashed in more accessible areas, the broken wreckage that marked the sites was often carted away by locals and sold for scrap years ago. When crash sites are found today, search teams have to look for bones of pilots and crewmen by digging and excavating. 

These two investigators are currently excavating a crash site outside Phonsavan. In this case, it was the site of a small spotter plane known as a ‘Raven’, that had had an airborne collision with an F-4 fighter jet. They were searching the site for the pilot’s remains. 

“It’s a combination of archaeology, anthropology, and forensics,” the younger soldier tells me. As opposed to the over-simplified forensics work portrayed on popular American TV shows, actual forensics work done on these crash sites is meticulous, time consuming work. 

Working in the distant countryside, the search team had to get permission to excavate crash sites not only from the Laotian government, but also from hill tribe leaders in remote villages. 

“When we work in the villages, they are way out,” the soldier tells me. “They’re Animists. We have to sacrifice an animal so as to not upset the spirits (before digging begins.) It’s usually a cow. They pick it, and it’s always something expensive." 

As part of the process, local men are taught excavation skills, and employed to work alongside investigators. Grids are carefully layed out, and digging begins. If aircraft parts are found, the part types and serial numbers are matched to missing aircraft. Great care is taken not to miss any small bone fragments, often the only human remains left after a high speed crash. If few bones are present, dog tags found at the site can help verify that the missing pilot died at the scene. 

Hundreds of Americans remain missing in the mountains of Laos

The process of searching for America’s missing soldiers is slow, but progress is being made. The younger soldier was excited about their recent discovery of a finger bone at one digging site. The bone is being sent back to a Hawaii military lab where the remains missing in action soldiers are processed. There they will test the bone to see if it’s human. If it is, they will proceed to DNA testing, and compare results with DNA samples taken from families of soldiers still classified as MIA. Hopefully a match will be found, and the family of the missing pilot will finally receive closure. 

As for the Laotians, many of them are puzzled as to why the Americans would go to so much trouble, and spend so much money, to find a few bones from soldiers who died more than three decades ago. Much like Vietnam, the Laotian government has neither the money to search for their missing war dead, nor the technical ability to conduct DNA testing. Hundreds of thousands of Asians who remain missing from the wars in Southeast Asia, will never be found or identified. Their families know their loved ones died during the war, but they will never have a grave to mourn over, and closure eludes them.  

There are still 308 American servicemen classified as missing in action from the war in Laos. With so many crash sites yet to excavate, the MIA search teams will be working in the remote mountains of Laos for years to come. 

BATTLE OF KHE SANH: THEN AND NOW

Old runway of Khe Sanh Base today, once held by US Marines

A long abandoned runway stretches across the rugged landscape before me. This airstrip isn’t black or grey, like any runway you would find at any normal airport.

This one is red.

The bare earth of this old rutted runway is the color of the reddish clay that makes up the surrounding hills. This runway once had a lighter colored surface when it was in use, but red is a more fitting color. The blood of thousands was spilled in the fight to control this runway, and the hills that surround it.

A nearby sign in Vietnamese calls this place: “Ta Con Airfield Relic”. Ta Con was the North Vietnamese Army's (NVA) name for this remote place. The American name for this base was taken from a village just south of here on Highway 9. It’s name: “Khe Sanh”.

Sitting in the farthest northwestern corner of the what was South Vietnam, this base was the scene of the bloodiest siege of the entire Vietnam War. Begun as a small Special Forces outpost, Khe Sanh expanded as the war heated up to become a major base. As the number of US Marines here grew, this dusty red runway was built to enable access by plane.

When fighting escalated in January 1968, massive numbers of NVA regulars infiltrated the surrounding hills. They cut access by road on Highway 9, the route I took to travel here. Totally surrounded, the Marines were left under siege, and this dusty runway became their only hope for resupply and reinforcements. At the peak of the battle, there were 6,000 US Marines in this small place, surrounded by 20,000 - 30,000 NVA troops.

Smoke rises from artillery attack during 1968 Khe Sanh siege. (Photo: USMC, Public Domain)

I look around at hills surrounding this former base, and they look green and peaceful now. Some of these nearby hills, such as Hill 861 and Hill 881 S, saw the worst of the fighting. Today it’s overcast, and here in the highlands, fog is common. Low visibility from the fog gave cover to the NVA who watched from the hills. Their guns placed there often stopped the desperately needed cargo planes from landing here on the base’s airstrip.

Not far from the runway today, sit two intact American made helicopters, a Huey and a Chinook. Although most resupply flights here that saved the Marines were from cargo planes, there were also countless flights here by helicopter. My veteran buddy Jay once had had a close call here during the siege, while piloting a Huey.

Chinook helicopter on display in Khe Sanh today

"We were coming in, and my Warrant Officer yells, ‘Dammit!’. He’d been shot in the toe,” Jay told me. A bullet fired from a Kalashnikov had pierced the plexiglass of the helicopter’s nose, and went right through his co-pilot’s boot!

Normally, Jay sat on that side of the chopper, so it should have been him that got hit. But for some reason, he had switched sides that morning. He later found the bullet in the chopper. “It went through his boot, hit the ceiling, went between us and landed in the back,” he said. “I found it sitting back there.”

By chance, Jay ran into that same pilot months later, after he had returned from surgery in the US. Jay approached him and said, “I’ve got something for you.” He had had the bullet mounted on a keychain, and gave it to him. “That’s the bullet with your name on it,” Jay told him, “you’ll never get shot again.”

The Chinook and Huey helicopter displayed here were brought back only in recent years. Unlike other old US bases I’ve seen, Khe Sanh is one of the few former bases that they’ve turned into a

Helicopter and plane wreckage in Khe Sanh

proper looking memorial. Nearby is a pile of plane wreckage, along with a helicopter's tail section. The caption reads, “Some fragmentations of the wreckage of some planes were used by the US at Highway No. 9 – Khe Sanh area.” So this wreckage was brought here from elsewhere. Although several US aircraft were destroyed on Khe Sanh’s runway, that wreckage is long gone.

As I walk around the old base, I hear the buzz of insects. A monkey screeches nearby. It’s good to hear the sounds of nature here, in a place where so many unnatural things happened. Scattered about are old bomb craters left behind from NVA artillery. In some of them the grass still isn’t growing, revealing dark red soil underneath. There is a small quonset hut, a cylindrical shaped shelter that Marines used to sleep and shelter in. A rusty M – 41 tank sits vacant nearby, gutted and stripped for scrap.

I follow a trench, leading to the entrance of a bunker. I step down into the dark enclosure; it feels like a basement. The bunker is mostly made of sandbags, with a flat roof. Metal grates known as pierced steel planking line the walls. A few old artillery shell casings lie on the floor. The Marines spent most of their time hunkered down in deep bunkers like this, due to constant artillery attacks. Khe Sanh is only six miles from the Laotian border, which put them well within the range of heavy Soviet made artillery hidden beyond the frontier. On some occasions more than 1,000 artillery shells a day were fired onto this base. On those days the Marines hardly left their bunkers at all.

Bunker and trench in Khe Sanh today

Due to the siege, Marines had to sleep in these cramped bunkers for more than two months, and conditions were extreme. In addition to the near constant shelling, they endured filthy living conditions, rats, sleep deprivation, scant food, and the constant fear of attack. A plaque on a memorial describes Khe Sanh base during the siege as ‘hell on earth’, words that the survivors would agree on.

Surrounding the Marines from the hills, the NVA generals were hoping to attack and overwhelm Khe Sanh’s outnumbered defenders, much as they had done to the French 14 years earlier at Dien Bien Phu. But the massive ordnance dropped onto the NVA from Air Force B-52 bombers foiled that attack from ever materializing. As difficult as it was for the Marines here, it was even more dangerous for the NVA troops in the hills. Besides the harsh conditions, they were on the receiving end of devastating air attacks.

The bunker and the trench I've walked through look impressive, but the fact is, they aren’t authentic. The reason I know this, is because the canvas on some of the sandbags has worn away, revealing their contents. They are filled not with sand or dirt, but concrete!

US made helmets and flak jackets in the museum

After the heaviest fighting in Khe Sanh subsided in 1968, the US military decided to abandon Khe Sanh, and moved the Marines out to more easily defended bases away from the border. It was the only time during the Vietnam War that the US military abandoned a major base due to enemy pressure. Before leaving, they dismantled, removed or destroyed everything that could be used by the enemy. They even dynamited the heavy bunkers. Khe Sanh was reopened briefly in 1971 to support an ARVN campaign in Laos, but then it was abandoned again.

The bunker and quonset hut here now weren’t the work of the Marines. These were rebuilt when the government recently turned Khe Sanh into a memorial. This is one of the few sections of the old base where all the landmines and unexploded ordinance have been removed, creating a safe refuge for visitors. In this enclosure by the runway the grass is neatly mowed, and sidewalks are bordered by manicured bushes. There's even a small museum.

Preparing myself for more propaganda, I enter. Inside is a selection of US made helmets, boots, and weapons. It’s impossible to tell if these were captured from ARVN troops, or from US Marines who were missing

Old artillery shell casings in Khe Sanh bunker today

in action in Khe Sanh. Like other museums, most photos are from western sources but some are blatantly mislabeled. One photo's caption reads, “The American troops are in their panic at Ta Con base.” In the photo, seven Marines are calmly digging with shovels, putting out a small fire. How did they interpret ‘panic’ from this?

Propaganda is another weapon of war, and there was a great deal of it on both sides regarding Khe Sanh's body count. The US military claimed only 230 Americans were killed or missing from the battle, but a more accurate count would be around 500. They also claimed as many as 15,000 NVA were killed around Khe Sanh. For the communists, after the war they admitted to having lost 5,550 NVA soldiers in the battle, but their numbers were also higher. Both sides lost more men here than they will admit.

Who really won at Khe Sanh is still disputed today. The US military based their victories in Vietnam by body counts. As more NVA were killed in Khe Sanh than Americans, they claimed victory. The NVA on the other hand, raised their flag over Khe Sanh the day after the Marines abandoned it. Since they had possession of the base they also claimed victory, even though they were unable to capture the Marines that had stubbornly opposed them.

After the war, Khe Sanh was left to the growing weeds. Some local farm houses dot the landscape, since most of the former base is now agricultural land used for coffee farming. Much of the land surrounding the base is too dangerous to farm, still littered with landmines and unexploded shells. Strangely, grass has still not grown back onto the old red runway.

In the end, the US military had come to a remote, faraway place and established a presence. They fought bravely, held their ground, and killed far more of the enemy than they lost. When it was decided that the cost of remaining there was too high, they left, and the North Vietnamese Army later took over.

In a way, the story of Khe Sanh is a metaphor for the entire Vietnam War. 

US Marines position at hill battle during Khe Sanh siege (Public Domain)

MISSING IN ACTION MYSTERY

US made armored vehicles in Hue, captured from the South Vietnamese Army at the war's end

Today I'm in the old capital Hue inside the Citadel. I'm outside the Imperial Enclosure, and as I'm strolling along Thang Street, I chance upon what is known as 'The Conflict Museum’. It's easy to find, since big American made tanks and armored vehicles are parked right out front. Although armor was used by the US military to retake the Citadel in 1968, plaques beneath these heavy vehicles state that most were captured at Tan My Port in 1975, as the war ended. The plaques don’t mention they were abandoned by ARVN troops, who were trying to board ships and escape south.

Buying a ticket, I find the section on the American war, and prepare myself to sort through what is truth, and what is propaganda. There is plenty of both, but I’ll be shocked at what else I find here.

At first, the museum is heavy on weapons, documents, and old photos. There's an emphasis on the torture of captured communists by the ‘puppet’ soldiers, and by the US. Like in the ‘War Remnants Museum’, these atrocities were documented elsewhere. Of course

US made bombs on display in the museum

there's no mention of torture inflicted by the communists themselves. For all their focus on atrocities, one of the most horrific events of the war here in Hue, is not mentioned in the museum at all. In 1968 when the communists took the city, they rounded up and massacred 3,000 of Hue’s citizens. It was the worst massacre of the war. Most killed were civil servants and government officials. These included teachers, lawyers, firemen, doctors, policemen and administrators. But the communists didn’t stop there. The dead included women, children, Catholic priests, nuns, Buddhist monks, and a French medical team. 

These unfortunate civilians were marked for death by Viet Cong (VC) spies who had been living among them until the takeover. In the first days of the takeover they were quickly rounded up, executed and buried in mass graves, many near the Perfume River. These mass graves were discovered as US troops were retaking the city. During that deadly month of occupation, the VC had murdered an entire generation of Hue’s civilian leadership.

US Army Cobra gunship, type flown by Capt. McDonnell. Source: Wikimedia Commons

Continuing on, I find many weapons here, all were manufactured in the US, Russia, or China. I ponder over this: all the weapons are of foreign origin. So what if North and South Vietnam were left to fight the war alone, using only their domestically made weapons? What would they have used to fight each other? Knives and bamboo spears?

For the average North Vietnamese Army and Viet Cong fighter, this war was mainly a fight for reunification, and to kick out foreign invaders. For the Americans, Russians and Chinese, the implications of the Vietnam War were much broader. This was also a proxy war, part of the larger Cold War dividing the world at the time. Most Vietnamese today still don't understand this.

Another group of photos show anti-war demonstrations within Vietnam in the 1960’s. They glorifly the demonstrations from those years, but they won’t allow any demonstrations against the government today.

The last room has exhibits from when the communists recaptured the city as the

ARVN and US Army ID's on display

war ended. A display caption reads, “SOME ID CARDS OF THE AMERICAN AND PUPPET SOLDIERS, TAKEN BY THELIBERATION TROOP IN MARCH 1975”. Lined up like playing cards, there are many genuine military ID's from ARVN troops, along with 11 Army ID cards from American soldiers. This is another mislabeled caption. Nearly all American troops were long gone out of Vietnam after the peace was signed in 1973, so these 11 soldiers couldn’t have been captured in Hue in 1975. This is just more propaganda, but the ID cards themselves are genuine. I wonder, were these men killed in action earlier in the war?

On a hunch, I decide to research the US soldiers on these ID cards. I knew that there was a story for each one of these young men. I decide to search beyond the propaganda, and try to find out what really happened to them.

Getting to a computer later, I begin tracking down their information searching through various public databases.. Of the 11 ID cards, the text of one name isn’t visible, leaving me 10 to research. Four of the ID cards don’t have any relevant information that I can find. Their names are not listed on Vietnam War Memorial, so these four men weren’t killed in Vietnam. They aren't on the list of the prisoners of war (POWs) released at the war’s end either. For these four men, perhaps their ID cards were lost or stolen.

For the ID of one Staff Sargeant, I’m pleased to learn through a networking search that he survived the war. A former Army Ranger in Vietnam, he’s now a civilian manager of a contracting company. Like the other four, I’m curious to know how his ID card ended up here. I wonder if he is even aware that his old Army ID is on display in a Vietnamese museum.

US soldier's ID cards. I searched to find out what happened to these men.

More searches find results for four other ID cards. I’m sad to learn that these men were killed in action (KIA). Mark Bush, Milton Swain, Max Johnson and Richard Staab. From the Vietnam War Memorial database, I learn that all four were with the 101st Airborne, an elite Army unit. All were killed in fighting in Thua Tien Province, of which Hue is a part. None of them died here during the Tet Offensive though. All four were killed later on different dates, between 1969 - 1970. These ID’s may have been removed from their bodies by the VC or NVA after they fell on the battlefield.

Then there is the last name, the only officer in the group. I type in his name for a web search, and hit return.

My mouth drops open. I’m shocked at what I find.

Captain John T. McDonnell. There is far more information about him, then there is on any of the others that I looked up before. That’s because he was not killed in action. He is still listed today as MIA, Missing In Action in Vietnam. He disappeared on March 6, 1969, and he hasn’t been seen or heard from since!

On that day Capt. McDonnell was flying a combat mission south of Hue in a Cobra helicopter gunship. The chopper was hit by ground fire and crashed. The injured pilot of the helicopter was found and evacuated. Unfortunately, due to the nature of his injuries, he couldn’t recall what had happened to McDonnell.
 
US forces searching for the chopper, found the wreckage. McDonnell’s helmet was found, with no traces of blood. His seatbelt was found unlocked, so it’s likely he fled on foot. The search team found abandoned enemy positions nearby, and since McDonnell’s body wasn't found, it’s likely he was taken prisoner. The presence of his ID in this museum practically confirms it.

Later information collected from investigators, indicated he was likely being held prisoner by the NVA. Incredibly, he may even have still been alive after the war's end in 1973, when all other

More IDs. Capt. John T. McDonnell, at the bottom, is Missing In Action.

American prisoners of war (POW’s) were supposedly sent home.

I’ve learned that there is something even worse than being killed in a war. There is the great misfortune of disappearing in combat, and never being found. Ever. Capt. McDonnell’s disappearance created a pain for his family that is never ending. For years they were unable to mourn for him, since they didn’t know if he was either dead or alive. Years later, the Army finally declared him officially dead, but how did his death happen, and when? What really happened to him may remain a mystery that will never be solved.

Unfortunately, John McDonnell’s family is not alone. After the US war ended in 1973, and all prisoners were exchanged, more than 2,500 Americans remained listed as Missing In Action in Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia. Since the North Vietnamese soon resumed the war, the US government never paid them the $4.5 billion in war reparations agreed to in the Paris Peace Accords. For years afterward, many believed the North Vietnamese were still holding live American prisoners of war, perhaps hostages for the war reparations. Some American POW’s may have remained in prison camps, held for political ransom.

For their part the communists denied this, claiming all live Americans had already been returned. In at least one case, their claims were disproved. Robert Garwood, a US Marine who had been missing since 1965, was finally released by the Vietnamese in 1979, six years after the US war ended. He was later convicted of aiding and abetting the enemy, but for years the North Vietnamese had never admitted that he was in their possession.

John McDonnell also may have been alive after the war, and he remains listed as Missing In Action today. But the presence of his ID card in this military museum leaves many unanswered questions. For this card to have ended up here, somebody in the NVA or VC must have taken this ID card from McDonnell while he was still alive, or removed it from his uniform after his death. The US military is aware of his ID card in this museum, but his fate remains unknown. After Capt. McDonnell’s chopper went down, he didn’t just disappear into thin air. Somebody here in Vietnam knew what happened to him. 

There are still mysteries to solve in Vietnam.