26. Doctor Foster went to Vietnam

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Vietnam weather report

Morning prayer at Buddhist Temple

(P)
Vietnam’s political capital from 1802 to 1945 and UNESCO-recognised, the city of Hue is home to the grandiose tombs of several emperors from the Nguyen Dynasty and a Citadel, the former royal complex. Hue was a true washout, but of course that did not dissuade us from venturing out to explore, donned in our fetching ponchos. Actually, when when we got outside everyone else looked equally ridiculous in their long flowing plastic robes in assorted colours. We had been warned whilst still in Hanoi about the floods in central Vietnam - typhoons are common every year but this apparently was a shocker which even made the news back home...

Although we did not see houses built on stilts (which we would do later in Cambodia), the front of a house is often open to the street so passers-by can see into a living room area that is tiled or made of stone, which can be cleaned easily after the floods have died down. As we crossed the Perfume River (looking very murky indeed and not at all inviting for a boat trip, which is generally recommended during a visit!), cyclists and motorbike drivers were also undeterred by the continuing rains, often having to wade through road waters a foot or so deep. Despite diminishing daylight, we trotted across town to view several pagodas dotted around, not only did day turn to night whilst we were out, but it didn't stop raining (on some roads we just walked through pure mud slush) and on the way back there was a power cut through the entire main street!Wet wet wet.

Next day we were fortunate enough to be guided around the former Demilitarised Zone (DMZ) by a Vietnam War veteran. We heard from the horses mouth - so to speak - some of what life was like during that tumultuous time (see below).

The following day, our veteran friend's friend, Bill (a Buddhist), took us on a tour of the area surrounding Hue, famous for its old royal tombs. We started at Thien-Mu Pagoda, the pagoda was impressive, and he enlightened us as to its decorations including protective guardians at the entrance and the story of Buddha depicted on the main temple ceiling (which we have been happy to recognise at many other temples since!). As we walked and talked, huge but harmless dragonflies darted around us, and he explained that in his Buddhist capacity he did not eat any living creatures so as not to bring them harm, and this even extended to walking around an ant in his path to spare its life. Thien-Mu was the home pagoda of Thich Qang Duc, a monk who in 1963 burned himself to death at a busy junction in Saigon (renamed Ho Chi Minh City) to protest against the policies of the Catholic Diem regime, which tried to repress Buddhism.

At Tu-Hien Pagoda, we witnessed the sights and sounds of morning worship (see video) and out back a meditation room. Later stops showed us traditional methods of making incense sticks and the ubiquitous coned hats - also for sale, of course!

Vong Cong Hill is now just a few overgrown bunkers on a lookout point over the Perfume River, but it used to be a U.S. gun position. Now it is used as a park, and is so peaceful that butterflies have made their home there.

The Tomb of Tu Duc was the most magnificent we saw. Alongside its own lake, the complex included a wooden boat house and jetty, with almost lifesize statues of guards as well as elephants and horses guarding the entrance to the tombs of Emperor Tu Duc and those of several family members. Enclosed by walls, each tomb took a few minutes to walk through lots of open space inside, dotted by detailed mosaics made from colourful ceramic pieces.

Quieter was the tomb of Thieu Tri, in fact we almost had the place to ourselves! A similar style but rather more unkempt, our guide Bill proudly announced that this Emperor was in fact a relative of his, something like his wife's great-grandfather! In true Vietnamese style, fishing was not allowed in the lakes that make up an important part of the tomb complex, but plenty of people were doing so, having paid a bit of money to the security guard. The tomb itself is on an island in the middle of a moat, but the high walls are padlocked shut to keep out trespassers. Bill said that there is no money for it to be maintained, so it seems that it will be simply left to the vegetation to overcome it.

Our final stop was the Citadel in Hue's centre, the outer walls were still intact as was a portion of buildings inside, but much of them were so devastated by the 1968 Battle of Hue - known as one of the bloodiest of the Vietnam War - that the bare ground that remains is now used for agriculture.

We ate very well in Hue, a hangover from when Emperors would draft in the best chefs from far and wide. I went for 'Special Rice Cake Hue Style with Mashed Shrimp' although my photo shows it to be more of a slug! To drink we thought we'd treat ourselved to some of 'Emperor Ming Mang's Wine'...which emerged as more of a brandy! Oops!

One dinner choice was a tad confusing. The Lonely Planet guide book recommended one particular local establishment but as we arrived, the signs outside no less than 3 cafes in a row proudly stated that they were the chosen one. We settled on the cafe whose owner's eye we caught first...who knows if it was the one?! Duplicate shop names are fairly common in Vietnam - in Hanoi the most established travel agents are also imitated in the hope that bewildered foreigners will think the slightly differently-named shop is the one!

Hoi An further south (like Hue, a UNESCO World Heritage Site) was also recovering from severe floods - the water level of the Thu Bon river dropped back a further metre or so just during the 2 days we were there. Despite this, with its many yellow-painted original houses with wooden shutters, we could still appreciate it as a beautiful old town - difficult to find in such a previously war-torn country. Hoi An was a major trading port in the South China Sea in the 16th and 17th centuries until the river silted, and boats found alternative pit stops between Europe and Asia. It was through Hoi An that Christianity first came to Vietnam and foreign influences remain in the French colonnade buildings (mainly from the French occupation), Chinese Congregation Halls (one with a beautiful wood carving depicting ships at sea) and a Japanese bridge with an (albeit petite) temple on in the middle, its ends guarded by statues of 2 monkeys and 2 dogs. It could be shaped in the backbone of dragon.

Hoi An is also renowned for its tailors, who can throw together a suit or any other item of clothing you desire in a matter of hours. They, like restaurants and many other businesses - however small - had a knee-high Buddhist shrine complete with food offerings to appeal for protection and prosperity. One of us had a number of items made, including a skirt and a dress, but I won't mention any names.

To elaborate on food once again(!), Hoi An's signature dish of cau lau is flat noodles with croutons, beansprouts, green and pork slices in soup; the rule is that the water can only be drawn from a (very inconspicuous and not-at-all ornate) well, which is tucked away from the main road. We actually went to the restaurant that owns the well, but they were not cooking any cau lau that night, only an amazing pancake-type-affair, where you are brought a stack of pancakes and then fill them with one or both of the meats that are brought, along with plenty of greenery. There was only space for us on the small plastic tables and tiny chairs outside the restaurant. It was delicious. White Rose (small shrimp dumplings) was another typical dish that we had elsewhere.

To avoid the crowds at the culturally-significant ruins of My Son, we opted for a sunrise trip, arriving so early that the place wasn't even open when we arrived! My Son was built by the Champa kingdom, which ruled south and central Vietnam from roughly 200 to 1700 A.D. The complex is a series of temples where the champas worshipped gods and buried kings. Although there is damage to a lot of detailed carvings, since the North Vietnamese Viet Cong (VC) used it as a base which was bombed in the Vietnam War, we saw the original brickwork was so well crafted that only in the upper parts that had been rebuilt in fairly recent times did the new bricks have moss growing between them - the originals were in much better condition! We also saw Hindu influences in the carvings and slates engraved with old script. Despite a turbulent past, it was truly peaceful as our small group wandered through, the early morning sunlight glistening on the still dewy grass.

Not so long after this were we on our way to the distinctly more city-like sights and smells of Ho Chi Minh City...

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Visiting Vietnam's demilitarised zone (DMZ) with a veteran from the wrong side

After the French surrendered to the forces of Ho Chi Minh in 1954, Vietnam was split into 2 zones - north and south - at a river called Ben Hai. The strip in the middle of the 2 zones stretched for about a mile on either side and was known as the demilitarised zone (DMZ). Ironically, this area became one of the most fortified places in the world.

The communists (from the north) later breached the DMZ as they started the battle to reunify the country. During the war, American marines established numerous bases in the area in an attempt to cut off the supply line moving up and down the so-called Ho Chi Minh Trail. The soldiers who fought in the DMZ saw some of the most vicious fighting. Some places became household names in the US, such as Hamburger Hill - the American soldiers referring to the fact that those who fought on the hill were "chewed-up like a hamburger".

Today it is possible to visit key sites of the war in the DMZ, and whereas most visits are with official government tour guides towing the party line, we were privileged to go there in a small group with a veteran from the South Vietnamese force (i.e. former enemy of the current government) and hear his accounts first-hand.

Everything recounted below is our best interpretation of John recounting his own memories and impressions to us from 30 years ago, knowledgeable as he was about the "American War," to the point of describing strategies, details of battles, covert operations, and statistics.

As we were driving the 60 miles there from Hue, he gave us an overview of the war’s origins and we frequently heard bitterness in his voice about how terribly the people from the south were treated following the communist victory. The result was a united country, but not one that was at peace with itself. Many soldiers who had fought with the south Vietnamese were put in prison (for two and a half years in John’s case), all his money was confiscated, and then his job for the next 19 years was riding cyclo taxis around the city. His wife is also made to suffer because she is married to a south Vietnamese soldier; although she is a qualified lawyer, she is not allowed to work as such, and instead buys and sells bananas. At the end of a long day, she makes about $2.

John lost a lot of friends in the DMZ area, and told us frankly that it made him sad to go back there. He was working with the Americans as a part of the south Vietnamese army, a translator, spending his time in the DMZ talking to local minority people, finding out where the Viet Cong were staked out and what their movements had been. He was given plenty of money by the Americans to obtain this information.

The US soldiers were only allowed to spend 6 months in the DMZ before being moved on somewhere else, but John was kept there for two years. He explained that each and every one of the soldiers was acutely aware that, in such a dangerous place, every night could have been their last and that partly as a result of this they drank every night, and sometimes smoked opium, which in itself led to some fatal lapses in concentration when under attack at night.

John, in common with many others in the DMZ, didn’t take malaria pills, he revealed that they liked to catch it, because that meant they would be sent overseas, to places like the Philippines, to recover! This happened to John three times, and they remain the only three times that he has been out of Vietnam.

Our drive was by far the wettest day we’d had since leaving England in September. John pointed out haystacks (not used for animals but for winter fuel) by the roadside which were always worth investigating by the southern soldiers, as sometimes the Viet Cong (one of the two armies fighting the south and the Americans) would hide inside fake, bamboo-framed haystacks.

Among the most moving sites of the day was that of a bombed-out church, built in 1955 and hit by a helicopter missile. There used to be many churches in southern Vietnam, built by the French because they were there for so long, but this one was in the DMZ and between 1972 and 1975 there were no houses or people living in the area. Once used as a defence by the northern forces against the US and south Vietnamese forces, the roof was destroyed, the walls were also heavily damaged and pock-marked from bullets, while the once-tiled floor was full of cracks and holes, wet and slippery from the rain. Vegetation came in through the open windows. Amazingly, a typical church “INRI” sign still hangs near the altar. The large sign outside the church heralds its former defenders as heroes of the modern Vietnamese state, which must be difficult for southerners to accept, not least because they have asked the local government if it can be rebuilt and made into a proper memorial, which has not been granted. Catholics today only make up 3%!o(MISSING)f the Vietnamese population.

We saw two Army (or Fire) Bases during the day, where the US forces were based in between the fighting, firstly at a place called Con Thien. We turned off Highway 9, and came to rows of trees which made up a government rubber plantation. During the war, it was the 2nd of 5 US Fire Bases in the DMZ where GI’s could have some R&R before returning to combat. The track in the base along which US vehicles would have moved is now just a rocky path. As we walked along it, we saw more rubber trees, and John pointed out where the 600 soldiers (1 battalion) lived, rocks where they played cards and the spot where he once slept for 2 weeks (in a tank). We entered the only building still standing, a small, dilapidated concrete bunker that used to house the radar and 3 soldiers.

We saw certain small plants whose leaves close for a while after they have been touched (a little bit like the venus flytrap), which was used by the soldiers to tell that the enemy had been around very recently. We walked around fire base carefully, heeding warnings that the area is reputedly too dangerous even to attract the Vietnamese metal hunters (more about them later).

By now, the rain was absolutely lashing down in true tropical monsoon fashion. Our ponchos were no match and we had been drenched for ages, feet squelching in boots as we walked along paths which had become small rivers.

We spent some time at the nearby Troung Son National Cemetery, consisting of a large obelisk and small, well-tended graves, where 13,000 communist VC soldiers are remembered. Interestingly, relatives of the fallen were said to bribe cemetery guards to allow them to come in and remove the remains so that they could bury them themselves, according to local traditions, even though it would seem that the state had paid the highest honour by putting them in a memorial garden. On the monument, the details of each soldier record not only their name, D.O.B and village, but also what year they joined the army and what year they died, and it was not unusual for these last two dates to be the same. “Never forget our heroes” said the large carving, talking exclusively about these northern soldiers. We later found out that westerners have been refused permission to visit the National Cemetery, so perhaps had been fortunate to get inside.

We also passed Doc Mieu Army Base, half the size of Con Thien, built to be the anchor of the electronic surveillance system known as the McNamara Line. From the roadside it was possible to see the remains of an American tank, but we could not visit or take photos as it is now a Vietnamese military base.

The Ben Hai River, which we crossed during the day, with its fast-flowing, muddy brown waters, marked the border between north and south. The old and narrow (maybe 2 metres across) bridge, called Hien Luong was painted red and yellow, and still stretched the breadth of the river. However, a small barrier across the entrance prevented anyone from actually using it. Because of the places extreme historical sensitivity, there is a guard watching over it. John told us that we could stand on the start of the bridge (so we did), but that he would be in big trouble if he did so himself. People from the north and south used to be allowed over for 3 days per year, at New Year. The north side had large speakers blaring out propaganda - long live Ho Chi Minh! The current modern bridge is suitable for modern road traffic.

The small village of Vinh Moc lies within the DMZ, and between 1966 and 1968 the inhabitants decided to avoid the constant threat from the US bombing raids by burrowing underground to live. This evolved into a 2.5 km network of tunnels across 3 levels (at 12m, 15m and 23m - we could go down as far as the 15m level), with living quarters, kitchens, latrines, meeting rooms etc. - they even showed films, and 17 babies were also born there! At its peak, it housed about 1,000 people. The Viet Cong encouraged the villagers to extend the tunnels, and used them to supply their comrades in the south. They were well-situated because several entrances came out on to the sea & beaches. We were able to visit the tunnels, which have been left pretty much as they were in the war. In the area, we saw rusting 1000 lb bomb casings, fired from B52s and capable of travelling around 40km, which looked scary enough just standing there, never mind dropping out of the sky fully loaded from American planes. No wonder the locals sided with their enemy.

Incidentally, there is still a trade today of old US bombs being collected and traded for scrap metal, our guide gave the example of it being exported to Japan, where it could be transformed into scooters and sent back to Vietnam! Similarly, rubber is exported to be fashioned into tyres before coming back. In the café where we later had lunch, there was a display by a charity showing photographs of UXO (Unexploded Ordnance) impacting on daily lives: one showed the remains of a house of a metal collector; another showed 21 pieces of UXO found at a local school; another showed the VC, during the war, extracting undetonated explosives from US bombs to use as weapons. Today, the very poor still use metal detectors to search for scrap to sell, despite the large and very real risks from handling potentially active UXO. Since 1975, 5,000 people have been injured or killed by UXO in the DMZ.

As we drove along the coast, John recounted that when the US dropped their chemical herbicides, within an hour the leaves in the forests all around would have turned yellow and the trees would be dead within 5 days. Even amongst those in the south, nobody was allowed to ask which chemicals were used.

In John’s own words, Vietnam has been at war for 1000 years with the Chinese, followed by 100 years with the French and then 30 years between north and south. Now the people want to leave it all behind and move on. However, today John is still not free. The current communist control reaches deep into peoples’ personal lives, and in his case they are still asking his neighbours what he is up to, which, officially, is working as a driver for tourists, not as a guide.

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Photos

"Night sight-seeing"
As R.E.M might have sung. In the rain, too.

Tomb of Thieu Tri, Hue
Nick, Bill and statue from the honour guard

The U.S. Con Tien Fire base, DMZ Vietnam
This track used to be wide enough for American military vehicles to pass along.

Bridge over the Ben Hai River
The de facto border between North and South

To the bomb shelter
Vinh Moc tunnels, DMZ

Vinh Moc tunnel, DMZ
Exit to the sea

Hue food
Glutinous rice