REBEL VILLAGE RECOVERS

***This post is dedicated to James R. Vallandingham. He enjoyed reading this blog.***

3 bridges right to left: 1 bombed out bridge, 1 under construction, and 1 temporary bridge

I'm heading out of the town of Neak Luong, cruising east down Highway 1. With no auto taxis in this part of Cambodia, I'm riding on the back of a motorbike taxi. It's not my preference, but there's no other option in this rural locale. With hot tropical air blowing in my face, we turn north, onto a bumpy dirt road. Out here in the countryside, away from the highways there are few paved roads.

Passing by rice paddies, we slow down to arrive at three bridges, all parallel to each other. The oldest bridge on this river is only ruined foundations; it was destroyed during the war years. We make a noisy crossing over metal planks, on a temporary one lane military style bridge. Just next to it, bare steel reaches up from the concrete supports of a third larger bridge under construction. Infrastructure like the new bridge is sorely needed in this poverty stricken province.

Before continuing on, I'm startled by a Russian made helicopter from Vietnam. It swoops low overhead as it flies eastward towards home. Young Khmer boys run up to the road, yelling at the chopper in threatening tones. Even though the war between the Khmers and Vietnam ended years ago, there's still a great deal of hatred directed at the Vietnamese.

We continue down the remote rural road, until minutes later arriving at our destination, the village of Svay Samsep.

Nakri at right, with her cousin

It's here that my guide introduces me to Nakri. Her name translates as a type of flower, which is fitting, since she's wearing a red flowered skirt. She's somewhere in her 50's, but she looks younger than her years. Her hair is styled in an old fashioned 1960's bob. Through her smile, I can see three gold teeth.

Nakri invites us to have a seat in the shade outside her village home. Over the next hour, her story unfolds. Like all Khmers who survived the war years, both Nakri and her village went through quite an ordeal.  

Back in the 1960's before the war, Svay Samsep was a quiet farming community. Nakri's family owned a lot of land, and her father was the village headman. As village leader, he was also loyal to King Sihanouk. When war came in 1970, and Sihanouk joined the Khmer Rouge, that meant that her little village joined the Khmer Rouge side too. Simple country people like Nakri knew nothing about communism. But just like their king, they were suckered into joining the Khmer Rouge. They had no idea that the genocidal communists would later destroy Cambodia.

As more Cambodians loyal to the king went to the countryside to join the fight, the nearby hills of Phnom Cheu Kach became a Khmer Rouge stronghold. I can see those hills today, and since they're close to the village, the war came to this quiet farming community. Nakri was in her 20’s, when her village was bombed for the first time.

“Afternoon bombing,” she tells me, “some people died.”

Over time, Svay Samsep and the surrounding landscape were hit with many B-52 strikes from the US  Air Force. The village didn't have many direct hits like the bombing that had hit Neak Luong, but there were many near misses. After one bombing close call, Nakri said that, “every building in the village had cracked walls.”

Some of the attacks lasted for hours, and this wasn’t just from aerial bombing, but from artillery attacks as well. Nakri recalls, “Sometimes  bombings were from 3pm, all the way until the next morning.”

Rusted tailfin from a 500 pound bomb dropped by a B-52 during the war

Walking towards her house, Nakri shows me a rusty, twisted tailfin lying on the ground. This is a tailfin from an American 500 pound bomb, dropped from a B-52 sortie during those dangerous days. There were so many B-52 air raids, that when the bombings finally ceased in 1973,  numerous large bomb craters remained surrounding the village. Later, Khmer Rouge executioners used some of these massive craters to bury corpses of those they murdered.

Even though Nakri's village had sided with the Khmer Rouge, that wasn't enough to save all of her family when the radicals took over. Nakri was sent to a neighboring province to work on a forced labor commune, and three of her seven siblings died during the Pol Pot years. They learned too late how the Khmer Rouge really were. 

Nakri's cousin, who is sitting with us, chimes in, “Pol Pot Regime, didn’t give us enough food.” Many who died during the Khmer Rouge years weren't just executed, others died from starvation.

Fortunately for Nakri, she had a skill the Khmer Rouge needed. “I know about weaving and sewing,” she tells me. 

That skill may have saved her life, as she no longer had to work slave labor in the fields. “Pol Pot people stop me farming, have me make krama,” Nakri says. The krama is the traditional red and white Khmer scarf, worn by all Khmer Rouge cadres. Today she's wearing a krama of a different style. It's checkered blue and white; she also wove it herself.

When the Khmer Rouge were forced from power, Nakri and her father returned  to their village. “When people come back, every village so quiet,” she recalled, “you could choose anywhere to live.” Many villages were virtual ghost towns then. But during that time it was also chaos. With no rule of law to protect them, Nakri's family lost most of their land. 

Hills where Khmer Rouge guerrillas once hid, are now used to supply construction sand.

Later Nakri's life took a turn for the better. After the Khmer Rouge were ousted, she married. Her new husband was a former student. Since he didn’t have any ties to the Khmer Rouge, he was able to become a police officer in 1980. He is now the village police chief.

In recent years, Nakri started her own business. As construction has picked up, she began selling sand to builders. I look over at the nearby hills of Phnom Cheu Kach. Even from here, I can see the yellowish scars of bare earth, where large sections of the hills were cut away. This is where Nakri gets sand for her business; her workers dig it out of the ground in that former Khmer Rouge stronghold.

Most of the massive bomb craters around the village are filled in now, as local farmers use the land for agriculture again. But her village still has a lot of unexploded munitions. Just last week, Nakri called up a demining group, asking them to come remove the bombs that still threaten their safety.

I notice Nakri still has short hair, rare for ethnic Khmer women these days. She wears the same bob hairstyle that the Khmer Rouge forced all women to wear back during their era of terror. Another remnant of those years, is her dislike for the Vietnamese, much like the kids I saw earlier.  

But overall, life has improved here for Nakri and her family. “My family is ‘normal’ now,” Nakri says. “With my husband as policeman, I don’t worry about anything.”

Hmmm... I wonder...  where did she get the money to buy those gold teeth? From her sand business, or from her husband the policeman??

FERRY TOWN BOMBED BY MISTAKE

Onboard a ferryboat crossing the Mekong River at Neak Luong

Neak Luong is a river town, a stopover for those seeking to cross the Mekong River. For travelers like me coming up Highway 1 from Saigon, this ferry town is a stopping point on my way to Phnom Penh.

The vehicle I'm riding in approaches Neak Luong, and as we cross the countryside outside town, I spot three large ponds from the roadway. The ponds are in a staggered line, surrounded by farming fields. These perfectly round ponds are much larger than similar depressions in the earth that I’ve seen before. That's because these ponds were formed years ago as bomb craters! They were formed by American B-52s.

The B-52 Stratofortress was one of the deadliest weapons of the Cold War era, a heavy bomber originally designed to carry nuclear weapons. A single jet could carry more than 100 massive 500 pound bombs. This high flying jet dropped its deadly cargo from 40,000 feet up, far too high for a pilot or bombardier to distinguish between friend or foe on the ground. This devastating weapon was built to fight World War III against cities in the Soviet Union. But here, it was unleashed on the bamboo villages and rice paddies of Cambodia.

Something that has been forgotten, after the US war in Vietnam ended in 1973, was that US bombing of Cambodia continued for months afterward. The total amount of bombs dropped here is almost beyond belief. From March of 1969 to August 15, 1973 when aerial bombing finally ended, 539,129 tons of bombs were dropped on Cambodia. This was 350% of the total tonnage dropped on Japan during all of World War II. For all of that tonnage, not all those bombs hit their intended targets, and these three bomb crater ponds are examples.

On August 6, 1973 the Cambodian government was fighting for its life against the Khmer Rouge. Neak Luong was an embattled garrison and ferry town, controlled by government forces. On that day, three B-52s mistakenly dropped their bomb loads directly on this government held town. 20 tons were dropped, leaving 137 people dead and 300 wounded. Most were government soldiers and their families. This deadly military blunder was exposed by New York Times reporter Sidney Shanberg, and depicted in the movie The Killing Fields. The tragic debacle that hit this town was one reason why the US bombing of Cambodia was finally halted for good only nine days later.

* * * * *

Swift boats like these reached Neak Luong during the US invasion of Cambodia (Photo: Wikipedia)

I return later to Neak Luong on a hot day, and sit down with my translator for lunch. This river town has few traces of the war years visible today; the downtown that was devastated by B-52s years ago has since been rebuilt. As I look around at the locals, I notice there are many Vietnamese here. Some have migrated up from Vietnam, to open shops and businesses in town.

I'm leery of unsanitary roadside food stands, so we step into a restaurant for a rice luncheon. As it turns out, it's not very sanitary in here either. While I'm eating my meal, some kind of animal dung falls from the ceiling, and lands on my wrist. Wiping it away, I look up at the darkened, cobweb covered rafters high above. I’m not sure if that was from a rat, a bat, or a lizard. Well, at least it didn’t fall into my food.

Paying our bill, we step out into the center of town fronting the river. As Highway 1 crosses the Mekong River here, there is no bridge to bring us across. Just like during the war, the only crossing today is by ferry boat. Now and then, that makes Neak Luong a very strategic place.

Khmer travelers wait for the ferryboat

Back in 1970, as the US military invaded eastern Cambodia, US forces came all the way here to Neak Luong. Since Viet Cong and North Vietnamese Army (NVA) forces had found safe haven in Cambodia for years, the US military sought to destroy the communist bases and drive them out. American swift boats, and many other water craft (over 100 in all) reached all the way here to Neak Luong. Cruising up the Mekong River from Chau Doc in Vietnam, it took the first swift boats only an hour and a half to get here.

Once they arrived here in Neak Luong, they met little resistance. They went looking for the only ferry boat operating here then, as they suspected it of smuggling arms for the NVA. But the ferry was gone. Asking locals where it was, they revealed that the communists had scuttled the ferry in the river, trying to hide it from the Americans. They hoped to refloat it later after the US departed. The  submerged ferry boat was spotted by an airborne patrol; somehow they were able to see it through the Mekong’s dirty waters. The ferry was refloated, and then taken back to South Vietnam to deny the communists future use of it.

Decades after the war ended, there is still no bridge here. I'll be held up here in town for an extra half hour, waiting to cross by ferry. Just steps from the ferry landing, I spot an all grey stone monument made of two soldier's statues, from during the war years. But there is no plaque to explain its purpose. My translator explains, “Vietnam-Cambodia Armed Force military. They join together to kill Khmer Rouge.”

These two somber statues are facing towards Phnom Penh, as though they march there to oust the Khmer Rouge in 1978. The Khmer Rouge radicals battled the Vietnamese Army here in Neak Luong, but they didn’t hold them for long, and Khmer Rouge resistance collapsed. Maybe the Vietnamese would have captured Phnom Penh even sooner, if there had been a bridge here then to cross the Mekong. Then again, maybe the Khmer Rouge would have already blown the bridge, as had happened in the capital. 

Monument to fighters that ousted the Khmer Rouge

Oddly enough, high on a billboard overlooking this stone monument, is a picture of current dictator/Prime Minister Hun Sen, and some other 'Cambodia People's Party' leaders. 

After first fighting as a dedicated Khmer Rouge commander, he deserted them in fear, fleeing to Vietnam. 

Hun Sen later joined this Vietnamese invasion to oust his former comrades, and as a reward the Vietnamese government later helped elevate him to power.

“Hun Sen was installed by Vietnam,” a local vendor once told me. I'm not surprised by her view. Many Khmers still see Hun Sen as a Vietnamese puppet.

Finally, it's our turn to board the ferryboat. There are two running today, and ours is named “Vishnu”, after the Hindu deity. Each ferryboat is quite large; ours holds three buses, a couple of trucks, ten cars, many motorcycles, and pedestrians. Beggars and street vendors crowd the ferryboats too. When a bridge is finally built, the hordes of vendors and beggars will be the biggest losers. They mob all the buses and cars that line up waiting for the ferry, and then accompany them back forth across the river.

As we cast off and begin the crossing, I look upriver. Many businesses line the Mekong's banks, but one section is made up of flimsy shacks, built on stilts over the river. Since this is the rainy season, the river is rising. Already the water is dangerously close to the floorboards of some of these poor homes. If the river rises much higher, they could be swept away by the strong current.

Stilt houses of poor families are nearly flooded by the rising Mekong River

I ponder the future of this crossing. Having a sturdy bridge here over the Mekong is long overdue, it would increase the traffic flow from Saigon to Phnom Penh. There have been proposals floating around for years, from donors and businesses looking to build a bridge in Neak Luong.  

A recent proposal came from the Japanese government, to build a new bridge with foreign aid. But due to problems over purchasing the necessary land on the shorelines, and due to corruption problems, it didn't happen.

There will be a bridge built here someday. How long it will take before it finally becomes a reality?




(**POST STORY NOTE** - Sometime after I visited this river crossing, agreements were signed, and a bridge finally was built. I wonder how many bribes it took to pay off government officials to finally build it.)

BOMBING THE OPPOSITION

10,000 year 'Friendship' monument 

It’s a strange looking monument, full of contradictions. The top has snake-like 'nagas' at every corner; a tower of sharp angled rooftops and golden trim. In short, the top half looks like the upper reaches of a peaceful Buddhist temple.

The bottom half is the opposite, with military themes. It’s a stone, gray, communist sculpture, in the stern Soviet style. Two of the figures are soldiers, both carrying AK-47s. Close in front of them, a woman holds a baby.

For the pair of stern looking soldiers, one is Vietnamese. He’s easy to pick out; a pigeon sits atop his Vietnamese Army pith helmet. The other soldier at his side has a pigeon sitting on his collar, while his hand holds the baby’s arm aloft. He’s obviously a Khmer soldier. Meanwhile the woman holds her Khmer scarf, which is wrapped around his rifle.  

Between the two extremes a painted plaque shows this odd looking monument's theme: crossed Cambodian and Vietnamese flags. This is the '10,000 Year Cambodian-Vietnamese Friendship Monument' in downtown Phnom Penh.

When the radical Khmer Rouge decided to take on Vietnam in the mid 1970's, they finally bit off more than they could chew. The USA and the west had given up on their military campaigns in Cambodia years before; so it was finally the Vietnamese that drove out the murderous Khmer Rouge. This was a rare time in history, when a communist country, 'liberated' another communist country.

Many Cambodians today are grateful that the Vietnamese forced out the genocidal Khmer Rouge, that’s true. But it wasn't long after Vietnam took over Cambodia, that things turned sour.

Stone figures: 2 soldiers, woman and child

After Vietnam’s army forced the Khmer Rouge out of Phnom Penh, their soldiers began looting. The city’s empty houses were still full of furniture and appliances, left behind from the violent exodus of 1975. Mattresses were cut open with bayonets, as troops searched for hidden money and jewelry. Soon after, an enormous convoy of trucks loaded with looted booty was seen on Highway 1, heading back to Vietnam with their spoils of war. Their image as ‘liberators’ was tarnished.

The Vietnamese have long been Cambodia’s traditional rival, and as the Khmer Rouge took to the countryside for another long guerrilla war, most citizens began to feel that the Vietnamese overstayed their welcome. Starting in 1978, Vietnam occupied Cambodia with over 180,000 troops, and they remained until 1989. More than 55,000 of them died. (A figure close to the number of US soldiers who had died in Vietnam.) Far more Khmers died during that same period. Every one of those years was full of unending conflict, and economic hardship.

There is still a great deal of resentment by Khmers against the Vietnamese. That bitterness is sometimes expressed through violent means, as happened on this very spot in 2007. Local English language news reported on the incident. “The officials were very much concerned, finding the bombs at the “Ten Thousand Year” Khmer-Yuon [Vietnamese] Friendship Statue, where early morning at 5:20 on 29 July one bomb had exploded. After the scare about the explosion of a locally made bomb, Khmer officials found two more locally made bombs; the second bomb exploded by itself at 11:15, and the third bomb was destroyed by Cambodian Mine Action Center experts, using their technical procedures, at 11:50 on the same 29 July 2007.”

Stupa for those that died in the massacre

It didn't end there. There were further bomb plots in 2009, culminating in an arrest: “Banteay Meanchey provincial police chief Hun Hean said that his officers working with the Ministry of Interior caught 46-year-old Ty To at his home on Wednesday and found 53 different bomb-making items there, including TNT and radio devices,” according to the Cambodia Daily.

"(Ty To) told the police that he was involved with the attempt to blow up the Cambodian-Vietnamese Friendship Monument and also with the TNT case on the Russian Boulevard (in Phnom Penh)," the paper said.

What the local news reports don’t say, is a major reasons for those bombings, is connected to problems in the Mekong Delta. Centuries ago the entire delta was Cambodian territory. This is lost land that they still wish to have back. Many thousands of ethnic Khmers still live there today, and many of them followed a well known Buddhist monk. He was arrested by the Vietnamese, for what the Khmers say were trumped up charges. The bombing of the monument was an act of retaliation. This Khmer-Vietnamese rivalry still continues to this day.

This is one of the larger public parks in Phnom Penh, and it has seen other violence. On the far side of the park, there is a wide stretch of red brick sidewalk; an open area with grass at the side. As I look, a few Khmers walk through. Nothing seems special about this sidewalk.

Sadly, violence has visited this downtown park more than once. I walk down to a corner of the park, where post-war democracy took a big hit in Cambodia. Near the sidewalk, is a golden stupa (Buddhist memorial tower). The rope fence around it has been cut or frayed in places, but I can clearly read the plaque on the side.

“TO THE HEROIC DEMONSTRATORS WHO LOST THEIR LIVES ON 30 MARCH 1997
FOR THE CAUSE OF JUSTICE AND DEMOCRACY
THE TRAGEDY OCCURRED 60 METERS FROM THIS MONUMENT
ON THE SIDEWALK OF THE PARK ACROSS FROM THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY”

Corner of the park where the massacre happened

Back on that Easter day in this park, a peaceful protest was led by opposition leader Sam Rainsy. Just after he finished his speech, four grenades were thrown into his crowd of supporters. 16 innocent people died, and more than 100 were injured.

Not surprisingly, nobody has ever been arrested or prosecuted for the massacre. That's because the protesters who were targeted, were in a political party that opposes the current Prime Minister (dictator) Hun Sen. As an American was injured by grenade shrapnel, the FBI launched an investigation. Some US officials blamed Hun Sen's bodyguard unit for the attack. His heavily armed bodyguards that were present for the demonstration, were also seen covering the escape of those responsible for the attack. 

Sadly, that hasn't been the end of political violence in Cambodia. Between 1999 and 2004, there were four politically motivated murders which also remain unsolved to this day. These have included a senior political adviser, a union leader, a judge, an actress, and a reporter. Most were well connected to opposition political parties.  There are widespread suspicions and accusations that the CPP (Hun Sen’s political party) was responsible for most of these murders. 

For all the advancements that Cambodia has made since the departure of the Khmer Rouge, democracy in this troubled country has a long, long way to go.

WOULD YOU LIKE AN EXPLOSIVE WITH YOUR COFFEE?

Cafe owner Sith offers me a whiskey

I’m bouncing along in our 4X4 on a rural Laotian road. We’ve just left a village where I watched a blacksmith pound old war refuse into farm tools! ‘Swords into plowshares’ indeed. On our way back, we stop at a small roadside café to satisfy our thirst. It's a hot day, and a freshly squeezed juice would really hit the spot.

As we enter, I quickly notice that by western standards it’s not a café. It’s more like an ornate shack with tables, and bizarre decorations. I’m wary of the lack of cleanliness, but my guide recommends the place. I decide against a fresh juice, and opt for a safer can of soda. 

Soon, I’m approached by an old Laotian with white hair. This is Sith, the café’s owner. I’m relieved to learn that he speaks some English, though his French is even better. 

“I French teacher, many years,” Sith tells me. He first learned in school, back during French colonial times. Wearing shorts and sandals, he still sports a black French beret. 

Retired from teaching, he now runs this small café. I check out one section of the eatery’s walls, and I’m surprised to see it covered with two things: posters of pretty Laotian women, and a variety of unexploded ordinance!! While peddling coffee, Sith has been selling UXO relics as war souvenirs on the side.

This is a very dangerous trade, and our host has quite a selection. The display has various mortar rounds, artillery shells, spent artillery casings, a claymore mine, and a belt of machine gun bullets. His biggest display is of 'bombies', small explosives from deadly cluster bombs. Up on a shelf, he has set up a gridlike display of more than 50 of the dangerous orbs. 

Display of deadly US 'bombies' line a wall. Are all of them disarmed?

Since Sith isn’t a trained in bomb disposal, it’s a good bet that at least one of those 50 bombies is still live. If that was true, and one of those bombies is dropped onto the floor and detonates, it could easily kill everyone in this room. It’s happened before. 

Selling disarmed explosives is illegal in most parts of Laos, but in remote places like this, the strict laws regarding the safe handling and selling of UXO aren’t followed. 

As I’m looking at the deadly display, Sith picks up a bombie, tosses it in the air, then offers it to me. “You want buy one?”

I look at him nervously. I’m not into war souvenirs, even if it was defused. Besides, if I was caught carrying a bombie at a border crossing, or caught carrying one inside my luggage onto an aircraft, I would be in a great deal of trouble. I decline. 

More 'bombies' on display. Many types of cluster bombs were dropped on Laos.

Since I’m not buying, the friendly old guy shifts the conversation to politics. He mixes in  the old, and the modern of the political world. He states to me, “Nixon is like George W. Bush.”

“Why is that?” I ask.

“Nixon like the war more than peace,” he says. “Nixon like to bomb the people.”

Sith doesn’t get many American visitors, so as I depart, our host pulls out a bottle of homemade Laotian whiskey. Getting out a small glass, he has a toast with me. 

After we drain our glasses, Sith quickly tucks the bottle away. As he does so, he wears a mischevous grin, as though he’s trying to hide it. “My wife,” he says, gesturing toward the back of the café. 

Now I understand. Sith didn’t want his wife to catch him drinking!

We climb back into our 4X4, and hit the road. 

DISAPPEARING FORESTS AND DANGEROUS SHRAPNEL

Old growth forests in Laos are slowly disappearing, as lumber is sent to China and Vietnam

A new day finds me in another 4 wheel drive SUV, this time heading down a road northeast of Phonsavan. On our way, my driver passes a pair of heavy trucks, hauling timber. I eye up their stacked cargo, thick logs cut from old growth trees. 

“Many timber go to Vietnam,” frowns my translator. “Bad for Lao.”

As a raw natural resource, logging in Laos has been on the increase. From what I hear, most of the money goes to the government, even to the military. Since the Soviet Union no longer exists, the government has been forced to search for new revenue to pay for their army. Logging is one of their sources of revenue. 

We curve through the hills, as the trucks continue on eastward to supply the Vietnamese lumber business. I ask my translator on the foreign influences on Laotian business.  

“So many Chinese and Vietnamese come here to do business,” he says, and then he cracks a joke. “In the future, there will be no Laos. It will be Chi-Nam!” 

Two rusted tailfins from wartime mortar rounds

As we’re driving, the countryside looks beautiful. Laos has excellent scenery, but looks can be deceiving. “This area very beautiful,” my translator tells me, “but not safe.”

He motions towards a group of farm houses, the scene of an unfortunate post-war accident a few years ago. “Over there, they made a (cooking) fire outside of the house,” he says. “There was a bombie in dirt under the fire. Blow up. Two people die.”

* * * * *

Later that day, my guide brings me to a remote ethnic Hmong village further outside Phonsavan. As we walk down the main street, my guide leads me into a wooden shack. Peering into the darkness, I’m puzzled as to why he led me in here, until he points towards the wall. There next to an empty chicken cage, I see a large brown pile of metal. 

Bomb shrapnel!

Pile of bomb shrapnel collected by a black market scrap metal dealer

The owner of this shack runs a black market business: dealing scrap metal. Poor locals sell him bomb shrapnel they've found for recycling. This pile of jagged shrapnel is all rusted, save for a couple of non-wartime items, like a couple of bicycle wheels and machine parts. Mixed into this once deadly heap are tail fins from mortar shells, rusted clumps of ball bearings from cluster bombs, and numerous jagged, twisted chunks of shrapnel from heavy bombs dropped by the U.S. Air Force. 

This shack is just a small part of the underground scrap metal industry, now outlawed in Laos. Black market dealers give collectors 30 cents per kilo for scrap, and $1.50 per kilo for explosive. A pittance for such dangerous work. 

I recall the two boys that I had seen with metal detectors, searching for bomb shrapnel on the old Ho Chi Minh Trail. About half of all the un-exploded ordinance (UXO) accidents in Laos happen when someone is collecting shrapnel, or trying to salvage explosive from an old bomb. 

I look at this rusted pile and wonder about all the scrap metal hunters who contributed to make this deadly heap. How many of them have been injured or killed? How many more of them will die in the future? When people are desperate for money, they will do just about anything for work. 

TOWN FULL OF BOMBS

Old bombs and weapons from the war are piled together in Phonsavan

I’m in the remote northern Laotian province of Xieng Khuang. The previous provincial capital here was bombed heavily during the war in the 60’s – 70’s. It was so completely destroyed, that afterwards the capital was relocated, to the small town of Phonsavan where I’ve just arrived. Most of what I'm seeing has been constructed in recent years. Driving down Phonsavan’s main street, I find most hotels have the most bizarre choice of decorations. Out in front of the various hotels and guesthouses, are old bombs, weapons, and other war refuse! They are displayed outside their front doors, and out in their gardens. 

Later, I will see them inside hotel lobbies, and even mounted on the walls of their restaurants. There are literally, tons and tons of old bombs sitting outside their doorways. They include the deadly little round bombies, grenades, mortar rounds and artillery shells. There is also a whole range of US made aircraft ordinance: 250 pounders, 500 pounders, 750 pounders. There is even a monstrous 1000 pound bomb. Strangely, this is the local way of attracting tourist business. 

Buddhist temple bell, made from old US bomb

Since the Plain of Jars that surrounds this town was the key to controlling northern Laos, the North Vietnamese Army fought the American backed Hmong forces tooth and nail all over this region for years. Control over this plateau changed several times during the course of the long war, and the high plain was heavily bombed from the air. Since not all bombs exploded, it left the landscape here littered with the dangerous refuse of unexploded ordinance, much like the Ho Chi Minh Trail that I had seen earlier. 

There are a number of NGOs and military teams that continue the long process of finding, disarming and disposing of old explosives in Laos. 

But there are also more than a few amateurs. As it turns out, some of the unexploded bombs on display in Laos have not yet been fully disarmed!

Case in point, was a 500 pound bomb that was recently bought by a Buddhist temple to the south. The monks wished to have the metal casing cut and hollowed out, to be refashioned into the temple’s bell. Fortunately, they had the good sense to have a competent disarmament group examine it first. Inside the old bomb, they found 9 pounds of explosive still packed in the nose! 

This example isn’t unique, since I had seen a similar bell in a cave temple near Vang Vieng. Made from a 750 pounder, half of it had been cut away, and red stripes painted across it. It was an odd looking bell, but if nobody had told you, you wouldn’t have guessed that it was once a deadly weapon. 

Two wrecked motorbikes in Phonsavan. Motorbike accidents are all too common in the region.

Well, Laotian monks certainly aren’t rich. It’s much cheaper for them to buy a bell made from an old bomb found locally, than it is for them to import a real bell cast from expensive bronze. 

Looking at all the old ordinance on display, I wonder if any of these old weapons that I see down the street still have explosive inside them. New bombs are being found across Laos all the time. 

As we arrive at my hotel, we come across the remains of a modern hazard, a road accident. Just yards from the hotel entrance, are two motorbikes laying on their sides out in the street. Bits of broken plastic lay scattered around them. It seems that the riders involved in this collision were already taken to the hospital, but the bikes were left where they fell, probably for police to investigate. Like elsewhere in Southeast Asia, there is a high accident rate for motorbikes in Laos. 

I check into my hotel and head upstairs to relax. There’s a great deal for me to see on the historic Plain of Jars. 

BOMBING WHERE THE WAR NEVER ENDED

Bars and restaurants in Vang Vieng. The war is over here. Or is it??

BOOM!  BA-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!

It’s after 1am, and I’m sitting in a bar in Vang Vieng, Laos. The explosions I just heard are from far off in the night. There's a lot of background noise in the bar, but there's no mistaking what I just heard. Those blasts weren’t thunder, and they weren’t fireworks. They're from something far more sinister, probably artillery. At least eight explosions went off close together. It sounded like they detonated in the mountains to the east.

I ask the Laotian bartender across the bar from me, “What was that??”

He heard the explosions too, but he’s silent. I saw him speaking English earlier tonight, but now he won’t answer me. 

Old explosives and weapons from fighting by the Hmong against the communists

Not giving up, I press him further, “Is that from problems with the Hmong?” Fighting between the Hmong and the communists began decades ago during the Vietnam War. The outside world hasn't heard about it for years, but there are still rumors of occasional ambushes in the remote mountains of Laos. 

Continuing to hold his tongue, the bartender's face is blank. Then he turns, and walks away. If he knows anything, he’s not about to tell me. 

I manage to see someone else here that's in a more talkative mood. Further down the bar, I approach an expat westerner. He has lived in Vang Vieng for a while now. Mentioning the explosions, I ask him if there is still conflict in the area between the government forces and Hmong fighters.

“Yeah, it still goes on,” he informs me. “It’s never really stopped.”

So it’s true, there is still fighting in the mountains! This is news almost unheard of. Now I've heard bombing myself, and this expat just confirmed that resistance continues. Hmong groups had been surrendering the past few years, but nobody saied that fighting was still going on. Sadly, the communist war against the Hmong people never ended completely. Despite government denials, there are still army attacks against Hmong hold outs in the mountains. For America, the Vietnam War ended in 1973. For America's ally the Hmong, the war never really ended.

“Just a few years ago there were bombings at a couple bars on the island,” the westerner tells me. “The government keeps it very quiet."

There is still sporadic fighting targeting Hmong hold outs in remote northern mountains 

After disclosing this, the expat remembers that he shouldn’t be telling me about the fighting, especially here in a public bar. He has let his guard down to talk about the hidden conflict, but not for long. 

“I’m really drunk, and stoned,” he admits. “I shouldn’t be talking about this.” Then he motions to the Laotian bar staff. “They’ll hear me.” 

He’s afraid someone will tell the police that he’s talking about the unrest. I don't think he would get arrested; he’s no human rights activist. But as a foreigner living in Laos, he’s worried that if he’s caught blabbering, the government will deny his next visa renewal. 

In recent years, a gutsy photo journalist found a group of Hmong guerrillas still fighting the communists near Vang Vieng. The holdout community had survived an attack where 26 of their family members had been massacred. His astounding photo gallery can be viewed here: 
"LAOS: Still a Secret War"

In other parts of Laos between 2000 - 2004, there were also a number of other isolated terrorist bombings. Vientiane and a few other cities were targeted. At least one Lao was killed, with many others injured. Responsibility for the bombings was claimed by a group calling itself, “The Free Democratic Government Committee of the Lao People”. This 'committee' is most likely a separate group of anti-government Lao exiles, that are unconnected to the Hmong. 

There haven’t been any reported bombings in Laos since, and tourism here continues to rise. Still, I can’t help but wonder. If the Laotian government continues on its unbending course of one party rule, and continues to pursue the Hmong hold outs in the mountains, will it be long before there are more violent incidents that spill over into the cities?

WHERE THE BOMBS FELL - HAIPHONG

A boat dweller ferries supplies in Haiphong

Two undersized crabs shuffle towards me, in that strange, sideways walk that only crabs do. I've found these freshwater shellfish on the shore of a Vietnamese river. The dark current flows fast today; it’s banks nearly overflow from the rain. The crabs turn and head for muddy water, while I turn down Tam Bac street, a road named after this river. Downstream a bridge view reveals the Tam Bac is merely a tributary; it empties into the much deeper Cam River. This whole section of northern Vietnam is full of meandering rivers, all part of the immense Red River Delta.

Finding a pier where the rivers meet, I look across the waters to see a fleet of commercial boats and ships. Dozens are docked or at anchor, while another six freighters cross in front of me in the channel. And that’s just what’s in my immediate view. I hear a ship’s horn sound off in the distance, and down river I can make out massive yellow cranes on the docks, ready to unload cargo ships

Vessels docked in Haiphong Harbor

arriving from the South China Sea.

I’ve come down the highway from Hanoi this morning into the Red River Delta, to check out one of Vietnam’s largest, longest and busiest ports. This is Haiphong Harbor. As the closest major port to Hanoi, Haiphong gained the attention of Americans in 1972.  In those days of war, President Nixon ordered this harbor mined, and resumed the bombing of Haiphong. Nixon hoped to stop the USSR from bringing weapons into Vietnam by ship, and mining the port sparked major demonstrations from anti-war protestors who saw this as an escalation.

When the Paris Peace Accords were signed the next year, part of the agreement meant that the sea mines that had been dropped into this harbor would have to be removed. In an odd twist of the agreement, US Navy minesweepers cleared this very harbor, even though the war continued between North and South Vietnam. 

Old French colonial buildings, in need of a fresh coat of paint

As I walk around Haiphong, I feel alone and unique. I'm finding one of Vietnam’s largest cities is almost empty of westerners. As a commercial shipping port there are foreign sailors, but most are Asian. Western tourists don’t bother with this commercial port. If they want to go to the coast, they head for scenic Halong Bay, or for Nha Trang’s beaches.

This lack of westerners does give Haiphong a degree of charm that Saigon lacks. With fewer tourists, the city has a more Vietnamese vibe. Exceptions to this, are the influences left behind by the French. Around the downtown’s commercial district, there are plenty of cafés, and many old French colonial shophouses still survive. Most are well beyond their prime though, and could use a fresh coat of paint.

Closer to the port, yellow government offices with familiar French colonial architecture are in better condition. As I walk by and look more closely, these appear far too new for the colonial era. These are French in style, but they weren’t built by the French, since the old original structures were destroyed by American bombing. 

 “They admire French architecture,” explains my Vietnamese friend Bich later. When the communist government constructed new buildings after the war, they built their replacements in the same French style. Given that the Vietnamese hated the French colonials, that seems very odd to me.

Maxim's Cafe in downtown Haiphong

Originally from Haiphong, I met Bich through a friend in Saigon. She works in tourism, and I arranged to meet her at Maxim’s Café in downtown Haiphong. She’s happy to tell me all about her city over dinner.

“Haiphong people (are) known as strong of character, strong of mind, and strong of body,” she says self-assuredly. Bich is petite, but those first two characteristics describe her perfectly.

Haiphong is known as, ‘The City of Red Flowers', and she says that it’s beautiful here in late spring when flowers bloom. Too bad I’m here on a gloomy rainy day, so I’ll miss the scenery.

Bich’s favorite subject is the city’s people. “Haiphong has the most handsome men, and the most beautiful women,” she boasts. She adds that it’s also known as, ‘The City of Miss Vietnam’, since a number of beauty queens are from here. Bich obviously has a lot of pride in her hometown.

I chuckle when she says, “People here known for very hard work or laziness.”
 
Then Bich changes the subject, and turns serious. She says that as a large port city, it has a mafia, and may have the worst violence and drug addiction problems in Vietnam. But it’s all very relative really. The crime and drug problems of Haiphong are miniscule, compared to US port cities like New York or Los Angeles.

Wreckage of US warplanes shot down over Haiphong during the war

Despite her city’s rough reputation, she still loves Haiphong. “I like the craziness,” she says. She would stay here, but since better work opportunities are elsewhere, she’s leaving for China.

I ask Bich about Haiphong in wartime, but since she was born afterwards, she didn't have much to say. “We never remember about the war,” Bich says, “unless people ask.” 

Her mother remembers plenty though, since she survived numerous bombing raids then. She remembers the devastation well, especially the aftermath of a raid that hit a commercial center. ”She see 100 bodies,” Bich said, “all lined up together, laying by the market.”

Fortunately her relatives survived the attack, and her mother left Haiphong soon afterwards. Due to air raids, she moved out to the countryside for the rest of the war, where life was safer.

These days, city utility workers are regularly exposed to war’s old dangers. Bich says when city workers tear up roads to install sewers, they find heaps of unexploded bombs. Under one recent construction site, instead of bombs, diggers found many skeletons.

“What were the bodies from?” I ask her. “Who killed them?"

On display in Haiphong is an old Russian made Mig-17, next to old navy boat

“Maybe Japanese,” Bich guesses, but no one knows for sure. Since they were buried in unmarked graves, they couldn’t blame Americans, as US troops never occupied Haiphong. They were likely killed by the French, who occupied Haiphong far longer than the Japanese.

Bidding goodbye to Bich, I head back to my hotel. As I pass a museum, through the fence I spot an old Russian made Mig-17 under an enclosure. Nearby is a pile of wreckage from various US aircraft that were shot down over Haiphong.
 
Entering for a closer look, I approach, and two dogs lunge at me from the shadows barking savagely. I jump back out of reach. Fortunately, they're tethered underneath the old obsolete jet. With these canine guardians, I won’t be able to get a closer look at the Russian made Mig.
 
As it’s growing darker, I depart for my old French hotel. Settling in for the night, I flip on the TV. Finding the History Channel, I'm surprised it's airing a program on aerial dogfights over North Vietnam during the war! As I watch the episode, an animated re-enactment shows two US Navy Skyraiders shoot down a Mig-17, just like the one I saw rusting on the street.

I’m amazed. Somehow, this show wasn’t blocked by Vietnamese censors!

THE BOMBER IN THE LAKE

Twisted wreckage of a US B-52 bomber in a Hanoi lake

“Your driver here,” my hotel clerk says. She's arranged my taxi today, since I’m looking for Huu Tiep Lake in Hanoi. Looking at my taxi, I find it’s a xe om, a motorbike taxi. There are plenty of auto taxis in Hanoi, but for some reason the clerk called a motorbike for this trip.

I grudgingly put on my helmet, and we’re off into Hanoi's crowded downtown streets. My driver doesn’t speak English, and as we motor on, he stops more than once to ask for directions. Apparently the little lake I’m seeking isn’t so well known. I grow impatient, as he doubles back to turn down a crowded alley. After several tight turns the alley narrows; we just miss hitting a pedestrian. Now I know why the hotel clerk didn’t get me a car. These alleys are so narrow, that only motorcycles and pedestrians can enter.

My driver finally pulls out between two apartment buildings, and there is Huu Tiep Lake before me, a small the lake surrounded by a crowded residential neighborhood.  As I dismount, children are walking out the front gate of a primary school. At one corner of the lake, a group of Vietnamese men are playing cards, while they smoke and lounge on plastic chairs.

It’s a quiet everyday scene, in a quiet Hanoi neighborhood. But one visible feature is out of place, and it’s out in the lake. Rising out of the greenish waters of Huu Tiep, clearly visible above the waterline, is the twisted wreckage from an enormous American jet.

Close up of the wreckage in Huu Tiep Lake

A nearby marker explains, “AT 23.05 ON DECEMBER 27TH 1972, THE BATTALION No 72 – AIR DEFENCE MISSILE REGIMENT No 285 SHOT DOWN ON THE SPOT A B52G OF THE US IMPERIALIST VIOLATING HA NOI AIRSPACE. A PART OF THE WRECKAGE FELL IN TO HUU TIEP LAKE”.

One can only imagine what it was like that evening. The city sirens went off as the air raid began, and everyone in Hanoi ran for shelter. They heard distant explosions, as the bombers found their targets. Then out of nowhere, this ton of wreckage dropped down out of the night sky, and crashed right into their tiny neighborhood lake.

Only part of the lower fuselage of the B-52 protrudes above the water line. I wonder, how much more lies beneath? Looking at this twisted wreckage raises so many questions. What happened to the Air Force crew aboard that night, and how many survived? What was their target in Hanoi, and were there any civilian casualties? This is only one section of the huge bomber, what happened to the rest? Since it broke apart in mid-air, other sections must have fallen onto Hanoi as well. Did any wreckage land on any houses?

Among the wreckage peeking above the lake water, are wheels from the bomber’s landing gear. These have been lying half submerged in the lake for so many years, that weeds are now growing out of the sides of the tires. The Vietnamese were so proud of having knocked this giant bomber down from over their skies, that they have left this section of twisted aircraft lying here in the lake ever since, as a kind of strange war trophy from those dangerous days. This lake even has a local nickname, 'Hồ B52', which translates as 'B-52 Lake'.

Wreckage from numerous downed US aircraft are piled together in a bizarre display in Hanoi

The American air assault on North Vietnam was first unleashed in 1964 as the US war began here. This continued until 1968, when the bombing was finally halted by President Johnson. Hanoi’s skies were then quiet for three and a half years, until they got pounded again in 1972. President Nixon resumed aerial bombing as a political weapon, hoping to pressure the communist leadership at the negotiating table. Hanoi was hit again and again, as Nixon tried to force the North Vietnamese communists to end the war. This was cynically known as, ‘Bombing for Peace’.

Although the bomber wreckage in Huu Tiep Lake is a grim reminder of those many years of destruction, it certainly isn’t the only reminder to be found in this city. On another day I head to Hanoi’s Military History Museum, where I find wreckage that is even more jarring.

There the Vietnamese have taken a heavily damaged fuselage from an American cargo plane, and left it standing vertically on its nose. Leaning up against the plane, and surrounding it

USSR made surface to air missile, used to shoot down many US aircraft over North Vietnam

on the ground, is an enormous pile of aircraft wreckage and metal debris. These are the remains of countless American made aircraft, that were shot down all over North Vietnam. There are wrecked B-52 engines, wing sections, an US Air Force F-111 engine, a propeller from a French flown Hellcat, remnants of an F-4 jet, and much, much more. Millions of dollars of expensive military aircraft, have been reduced to debris.
 
US aircraft dominated the skies over Vietnam, and they were occasionally opposed in the air. North Vietnam had its own small air force, but since their aircraft were inferior in numbers and performance, they didn’t often challenge America’s more experienced pilots. To take down the US Air Force and US Navy jets, the North Vietnamese relied much more on ground based weapons supplied by the Soviet Union.

Positioned behind the memorial of twisted wreckage, are many of these Russian made anti-aircraft guns that the NVA used to shoot down numerous US aircraft. The grand daddy of them all is

Logo on US aircraft wreckage in Hanoi's Military History Museum

also represented: a rusty Russian made surface to air missile and launcher, (aka SAM) is still aimed at the sky. SAM’s were what American pilots feared the most. These ‘flying telephone poles’ had such range, that they were even able to take out the high flying B-52s, like the one I saw lying in Huu Tiep Lake. You would think that the Vietnamese would give some credit to their Soviet patrons, who gave them the high tech SAM missiles in the first place. But there's no mention of their appreciation here.

Alongside the missile, other smaller anti-craft guns are on display, along with plaques that boast of how many aircraft each armament shot down. One gun alone lists the dubious claim that it shot down a total of 124 US aircraft. Although that figure isn’t likely to be true for a single weapon, American air losses during the long war in Vietnam were indeed costly. Between 1964 – 1973, more than 3,000 jets and planes were lost over Vietnam. An additional 4,000 helicopters were also

B-52 wreckage and disarmed bombs in a Hanoi park

destroyed. I wonder how many lives, and how billions of dollars, were destroyed this way.

In Vietnam, the USA had the world’s best fighter jets, bombers and helicopters, but even these were not able to bring about victory through air power. 

To be sure, America could have easily destroyed all of Hanoi with just one well placed nuclear bomb, but the war in Vietnam was a limited war. Using nuclear weapons would have caused not only massive civilian casualties, but it may have brought retaliation by the Soviets, or the Chinese. Then this limited war in Southeast Asia could have easily escalated into World War III.

The American people learned in Vietnam, that being a superpower does have its limits.