Vietnam Revisited

Typical breakfast. The Chef is preparing eggs to order.

I’ve been asked many times by friends and family why I would want to return to Vietnam.   It’s been on my bucket list for many years, and  I’m not sure exactly why; I just know that I feel much better now that I’ve been back.  I’ve never thought that I was seeking closure, but maybe there is a little of that.  I’m not sorry that I served in Vietnam; I always felt like I served honorably and did my duty, so there are no regrets that I need to close out.  But seeing now how the country has recovered and how the Vietnamese people have recovered certainly gives me a sense of relief.

I have always believed that my experience in Vietnam was unique, so I don’t suggest or expect that others who served there would or should feel the same way about the country and their war experience as I do.  I saw my share of combat and hard times in the two tours I spent in Vietnam.  During my first tour in 1963-64, I was wounded by a grenade, but not seriously.  In my second tour in 1971-72, I survived one of the biggest battles of the war as the North Vietnamese army attacked Kontum City with a division plus of infantry and a battalion of tanks.  Over the two tours, I survived three ambushes (as the ambushed, not the ambusher), one on foot, one in a boat on the river, and one in a convoy on the road.  But I also had some of the most memorable and enjoyable experiences of my life.  I learned to sail on the South China Sea with unforgettable characters such as Don Dugan, Hubert Barb, and Art Yando.  Between combat events I enjoyed one of the most beautiful beaches in the world at Nha Trang.  I had several opportunities to “wind down” in Saigon, in Hong Kong, and in San Francisco.

So I returned not with trepidation but with anticipation.  I wanted and expected to see recovery.  In the nine days that Louise and I toured the country with Frank and Crossie Cox and my son, Graig, and his fiancee, Debbie, I saw nothing (other than in museums) that would suggest that Vietnam as a country and as a people had been torn apart by war.  The country is beautiful as is its people, who are vibrant and positive, though still poor for the most part.

Our customized tour was coordinated by a company called Haivenu Tours, who were wonderful to work with.  I told the coordinator the places that Frank and I wanted to visit, and they set up an itinerary for our approval.  We spent two days in Saigon (now Ho Chi Minh City, but most of the locals still prefer to call it Saigon), to include a visit to the Cu Chi tunnels about 30 miles outside Saigon.  There are over 13 million people in Saigon, and at any point in time, about 7 million are riding their motor scooters.  This is true at noon and at 2 o’clock in the morning.  I asked our guide where they were all going.  He said he didn’t know, and we decided that most were going nowhere; they were just riding around to stay cool.  And there is no limit to what they can carry on their motor scooters.  It was not unusual to see entire families (four or five people) on one scooter.  We saw scooters with kitchen appliances strapped onto them; we saw a scooter with several sheets of 4×8 foot plywood on it.  We saw dogs and chickens and pigs on scooters –  not driving, but as passengers.

We then flew up to one of my old stomping grounds, the beautiful coastal city of Nha Trang, which was inundated with tourists.  We wallowed in mud baths upon arrival in Nha Trang, then spent a full day on the water, cruising the islands off the coast and picnicking on one of the islands.  We than flew up to the port city of Danang, visiting the temple on Monkey Mountain.  We drove down the coast to another tourist mecca, Hoi An, for an overnighter, then drove on to Quang Ngai and Chu Lai, where Frank served in 1971.  While in this area, we visited the site of the My Lai massacre and its museum, a very sobering site.  We then drove across some of the highest mountains in Vietnam to Kontum, another place where I served for several months.  We spent the night in a quaint little Montagnard village where we were entertained by the entire village, and all six of us slept on mats laid out on the floor of a one-room hootch.  Louise and Crossie joined the villagers in the bonfire dance (they made it clear that either the women dance or someone would go into the bonfire).  We then hiked up river for about 3 kilometers and rode back down river in dougout canoes.  The most exciting part of the entire trip occurred here when Louise fell out of the boat and Frank dove in to save her from the piranha-infested waters.  She tried to pull me in with her while she was falling, but I let go.

It was a great trip.  Louise and I couldn’t have asked for better travelling companions than Frank and Crossie.  Graig and Debbie joining us was an additional blessing.  Their youthful energy inspired us old folks.  I felt it somewhat remarkable that with the six of us spending ten days together in close quarters, to include spending a night together side by side on the floor of one room, there was never a word of anger spoken.  We are truly blessed to have such friends.

Relaxing after visiting Cu Chi Tunnels

Cocktails on the veranda of our hootch at Montagnard Village