GOODBYE VIETNAM

Children play in a Vietnamese park. They are growing up in a country at peace.

I’m back in Saigon, and I can’t believe my journey is finished.

My three country odyssey through the former war zones of Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia is finally over.

Back in my old District 1 haunts, I’m spending one of my final nights in Southeast Asia in my favorite hangout: Godmother's Bar. I had made friends here, while enjoying food, drink and Vietnamese hospitality. Sadly, it’s the end of the road for Godmother’s Bar too.

While the pub is popular, the building’s owners have decided to turn the bar into a tiny tourist hotel, like dozens of others crowded into the Pham Ngu Lao neighborhood. So the Godmother, the Vietnamese staff and my foreign friends are having a bittersweet celebration for closing night.

“It’s the end of an era,” says my teacher friend Jeff. Indeed.

As my favorite night spot closes, I reflect on the close of my long journey, and search for knowledge about life in post-war Southeast Asia. I wasn’t disappointed.

I traveled far and wide on jets, planes, motorboats, rowboats, ferries, buses, motorbikes, cyclos, tut-tuks, and even traveled across a river on the back of an elephant! 

I traveled to distant, remote former battlefields from the Vietnam War years, places that today's young people never heard of, and that old veterans will never forget.

I met veterans from so many armies: Viet Cong, North Vietnamese, South Vietnamese,  Pathet Lao, Khmer Rouge, and of course, American veterans of the war who had returned to Vietnam.

An elephant walks on a path in the Hue imperial palace complex.

One of them had become a buddy of mine. And now he’s gone too.

While I was away in Cambodia only weeks before, my friend Kenny Harris, a former US Marine Corps veteran, had died at sea.

Kenny had been away leading one of his scuba diving tours of Southeast Asia. One night their charter boat was anchored off the coast of Malaysia, when out of nowhere, their boat was rammed by a freighter. The tourists and crew were up on deck, and they all managed to swim to safety. Kenny was below deck sleeping. He didn’t have a chance.

I didn’t learn of this tragedy until I got back to Saigon. While I was away, they held a memorial night at Godmother’s Bar, dedicated to Kenny. They sat by a framed picture of the tall former Marine. Kenny had a lot of friends and they were there; with toasts all around from both foreigners and Vietnamese. Kenny would have approved. 

Rest In Peace Kenny. 

Now Kenny's gone, Godmother’s is closing, my journey is finished, and my story is ends. It's time to turn the page.

That’s how it has been here in Vietnam not just for my journey but in the decades since the war; life has moved on. There's been tragedy here, but no longer. The Vietnamese picked themselves up, rebuilt their country, and moved on.

The people I met here, young and old, generally had been hospitable, helpful, and patient. As I'm American, I was expecting to encounter anger and hostility in my forays through these former war zones. I never encountered that once, as far as I could see. It’s a fact that many Americans are far more bitter about the Vietnam War today, then the Vietnamese are. For them, the war is past, and they look to the future.

“The war was a long time ago,” I once heard from Ho, an ex-Viet Cong fighter. “No hate. No hate.” Those were wise words.

Both Ho, and the current Vietnamese government want to put the war behind them. They are welcoming Americans again, and they want to make friends.

We should do the same. 

Goodbye Vietnam.

I'll never forget you. 

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.

DRUG OVERDOSES BY BACKPACKERS

Backpackers relax on guesthouse terrace, on less than scenic Boeung Kak Lake

“I have to go support my heroin habit.”

I never expected to hear those shocking words in Cambodia. I heard this on the street, in the Lakeside neighborhood of Phnom Penh. The young man who said it was a British English teacher, on his way to work. To this day, I don’t know if he was kidding or not.

Lakeside is where all the cheapest accommodations are for the thousands of foreign backpackers who come visiting the city. It’s also where many of the foreign drug addicts live. Here there are cheap restaurants, cheap bars, and cheap guest houses. Plop down your backpack, and you can have a bed for five dollars a night. It also happens to be where the drug dealers come to prey on gullible backpackers.

I originally came here this morning looking for cheaper lodging, on recommendation of my buddy Kenny. He's a former US Marine, and Vietnam War veteran I met in Saigon. As he's a Southeast Asian nomad, I had run into him downtown on one of his swings through Cambodia to visit his Khmer girlfriend. Kenny recommended to me a hotel in Lakeside. But I’m finding this borough isn’t what I expected.

Most of the guesthouses here are built on stilts, backed up on Boeung Kak Lake. That sounds ideal, but the lake itself isn’t very picturesque, mainly because it’s so polluted.

This lake north of the downtown is one of the main destinations for area drainage during the rainy season. Unfortunately, developers have taken over much of the area's land. With money on their minds rather than good sense, the developers plan to fill in the entire lake. Environmentalists are concerned that this will cause even more flooding in Phnom Penh during the rainy season.

The shady Lakeside neighborhood of Phnom Penh

After a spaghetti lunch in a local restaurant, I step out in the street, to be greeted by a drug dealer. Then another. And another. It seemed that about every ten steps, somebody was trying to sell me drugs. I politely decline. I recall that Kenny likes to smoke marijuana now and then; now I know why he stays in this neighborhood.

I shouldn't be surprised that local pushers throng to Lakeside, since there are plenty of  hippie backpackers that stay here. Unfortunately, a few of them don't leave Cambodia alive.

Backpackers who smoke marijuana occasionally decide to try something new, with tragic results. They’ll ask the corner pusher for cocaine. Eager for money he agrees to get them cocaine, although he doesn’t know much about anything except marijuana. So he goes to look for a white powdery drug, and he ends up bringing back pure heroin. The backpacker goes back to his cheap guest house, and is dead by morning. The next morning, the hotel cleaning lady enters the room, and screams when she discovers his cold dead body. More than one foreign backpacker has ended up dead this way.

In another incident, the body of a backpacker was found floating out in Boeung Kak Lake. But this wasn’t a drowning accident, it was an overdose. My expat friends tell me that local police charge a guest house hundreds of dollars to remove a corpse. After the hotel staff found the foreigner's body dead from an overdose, they wanted to avoid this expense, so they dumped the corpse in the lake. So much for respect for the dead.

Back in the 1990’s there were occasional deaths of foreign backpackers, kidnapped and killed by the Khmer Rouge. Thankfully, they are no more. Today, backpacker deaths in Cambodia are self-inflicted.

View of guesthouses on Boeung Kak Lake

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)

AMERICAN WAR VET IN VIETNAM TODAY

View from Marble Mountain on coast near Danang. Kenny's old Marine base was located down this road.

When I first met Kenny in Vietnam, I never would have thought that this easygoing American had a rough and dangerous past. His voice is pleasant and calm. He’s a man that seems comfortable with himself, and with his current surroundings in Vietnam. He’s big, tall, and in great physical shape. You wouldn’t think that he’s 61 years old. His name fits his personality well. it’s not Kenneth, or Ken, it’s Kenny. He’s a plain talking, friendly mid-westerner from Iowa with an eagle tattoo on his forearm.

An English teacher friend introduced us, and with Kenny’s easygoing demeanor, he was always good to chat with over a beer. It was during these chats that I learned about his military past.

Kenny is a former US Marine, who served as a medic with a Long Range Reconnaissance Patrol (LRRP) back in 1969. Nicknamed, ‘Lurps’, they were much like commandos, an elite unit that often fought behind enemy lines. Although he was based just south of Danang, Kenny spent much of his time in the field across the border in Laos. There he took part in dangerous reconnaissance missions along the Ho Chi Minh Trail, the infamous supply line of the communist forces. This was at a time when ‘officially’, there were no American soldiers fighting in Laos.

Sometimes his unit operated in jungle so dense, that there weren’t clearings big enough that would allow helicopters to land and take them out. On those missions, helicopters had to hoist his unit out of the jungle, lifting them above the forested canopy on the end of a long cable.

As a LRRP medic, Kenny had to be not just a fighter, but also a field doctor, treating the war wounds of many of his fallen comrades. Taking part in many dangerous missions, it wasn’t long before he was wounded himself. He saw the worst side of war. The Vietnam War left many strong men physically and emotionally scarred, including Kenny.

After he returned to the states, like many Vietnam veterans, Kenny faced a difficult life. He had a series of failed marriages. At one point, he was living out of a van. He basically went from being an elite soldier, to a hippie.

With his background as a medic, he knew a lot about drugs. After he left the military, he became a heroin addict. But Kenny’s tough. Over time he eventually overcame his heroin addiction. As he grew older, another challenge came along: throat cancer. Kenny beat that too.

These days Kenny is still affected by Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) from his war experiences. “I still have nightmares,” he once told me, “but not as much as I used to.” More than anything else, Kenny is a survivor.

When America’s soldiers finished their tour of duty in Vietnam, most left and never came back. Kenny is a Vietnam veteran who not only returned, but he now calls Southeast Asia home. He doesn’t keep a regular apartment. He spends a lot of time living in guest houses between Vietnam, Cambodia, and other countries in the region. He also speaks Vietnamese, not fluently, but well enough to get by.

For the most part, Kenny has come to terms with his past, and is proud of his military service back in the 60’s. “I’m still Semper Fi,” he says, a shortened marine mantra which means, “Always Faithful”. When Kenny walks down the street, he still stands tall, with the good posture and confident step that he learned as a young marine.

Children play in southeastern Laos river near the former Ho Chi Minh Trail, Kenny's unit fought near here

Kenny’s been free of heroin and other hard drugs for years, but he’s still no angel. Today he sometimes smokes marijuana, and occasionally patronizes prostitutes. He’s no wild man though. He prefers to spend more of his time sharing stories with friends over a cocktail, relaxing and playing pool. I played him a sometimes, and rarely won.

Despite all that Kenny’s endured, he has a balance to his life now, and seems to have found peace with himself. As a result of the PTSD, he now gets disability and social security. With the low cost of living in Vietnam, this gives him more money than he needs. He wouldn’t call himself retired though. Kenny  occasionally leads scuba diving trips around southeast Asia. These are not trips for the weak; he runs them similar to how things were back when he was a marine. His tours cover multiple countries, traveling fast, while getting in as many scuba dives as they can.

“I don’t need the money. I do these trips to give myself something to do,” he told me. Scuba diving is a passion for him.

One day, Kenny was at a train station in Vietnam, and an older porter came to help him with his bags. Being his friendly self, and speaking some Vietnamese, Kenny struck up a conversation with him. It turned out the porter was also a war veteran, a former soldier of the North Vietnamese Army. After the two spoke for a while, Kenny discovered that this old soldier had also fought in the same valley of Laos where Kenny used to fight along the Ho Chi Minh Trail. It was possible that their units had even fought against each other. Like Kenny, this old soldier had been wounded too.

But that was years ago. All the old hatreds were gone, and the past was past. When before these men would have quickly killed each other, now they could talk and share stories.

Kenny has his pension, so he isn’t in need of anything. On the other hand, the other old veteran’s pension is very small, which is why he still has to work as a train station porter.

Before they parted, Kenny held out his hand to his old adversary. “Peace,” Kenny said to him.

The other veteran shook his hand, and smiled. ”Peace,” he said back in agreement.

 The old hatreds between these two old warriors, had been replaced with mutual respect.