Hanoi, Hue and Khe Sahn

The Google Hotel, Hue, (South) Vietnam

Currently sitting in the hotel lobby in Hue (pronounced ‘Hu-way’), just South of what was the DMZ (De-Militarized Zone) marking the old border between North and South Vietnam.

On Saturday night a couple of the Aussies and I went along to a big ex-pat bar in a very smart block of ‘condo’s’, just next to the ‘Hanoi Hilton’ museum, to watch the horror that was the England Ireland game.  Oh well, at least we’ve got an economy.

In the morning, I crawled out of bed to go and see the mausoleum and corpse of Ho Chi Minh himself which was somewhat surreal.  ‘Uncle Ho’ founded the Vietnamese Communist Party in 1930 and during the Japanese occupation of World War 2 they were the most organised resistance movement against the Japs, inevitably with Western support.  In 1945 after the defeat of the Japanese the French attempted to re-take control of Vietnam.  However, this ultimately lead to the humiliation at Dien Bien Phu in 1954 and the subsequent partition of the country, at the Geneva Conference, between the Communist North, under ‘Uncle Ho’ in Hanoi and the pro-Western South under the government in Saigon.

As we walked through Hanoi towards the mausoleum there were various groups of soldiers in green uniforms badly attempting to goose-step around with AK rifles (not that I should ever criticise anybody else’s drill!).  I thought that taking a photo of them might not be too bright, but they didn’t look too different to the old NVA (North Vietnamese Army).  The Mausoleum was a big, ostentatious, concrete box with the inevitable vast communist flag, yellow star on red background, flying from it.  We joined the procession to file through, and I was amazed at just how much this one individual man is revered.  There were more uniformed people at the mausoleum itself, this time in white, goose-stepping up and down with ancient Soviet SKS rifles- as well as American Motorola ‘Air Wave’ personal radios.  They also took all cameras off us and ensured that everybody filed through in 2’s, and that there was no talking, or even hands in pockets.  Uncle Ho himself wasn’t looking too well in his glass cabinet, but the rumour, which I believe, is that there is rather more Madame Tussaude’s type work in there than any actual human DNA. 

Figure 1:  Uncle Ho's mausoleum, Hanoi.

Outside the mausoleum we tagged along with a couple of yank birds (“Gee, I love your accent!”) who were getting a guided tour of his museum and homes next door.  The general theme was that the people and his communist allies around the world loved him so much they gave him all these opulent houses, cars etc.  However, being such a good, humble, commie he chose the simple things and had, effectively, a tree house built in the garden for himself- although he’d nip inside one of the houses if he needed the ‘bathroom’.  I do find it quite unpleasant just how much the population are clearly expected to worship one individual- Princess Diana has nothing on Uncle Ho.

Figure 2:  Yanks at uncle Ho's mausoleum- who kicked who's ass?

After spending the day strolling around Hanoi, a group of us got the overnight bus from Hanoi down to Hue.  This bus was definitely a step up from the one from Laos as it was just 3 rows of bunk beds the length of the bus and I could actually lie down!  We arrived at the Google Hotel in Hue and immediately checked in- it’s a 4 Star level hotel, for US$5 a night, happy days.

As soon as we’d got here we went and had a look around the grand ‘Citadel’ on the North side of the river, which was established by the Nyguen dynasty when Hue was the capital of Vietnam from 1802 until 1945, when Uncle Ho set up shop in Hanoi.

Figure 3:  the Citadel, Hue

Figure 4:  the Citadel, Hue

Yesterday my Aussie travelling companion, who is also interested in military history (and rugby), and I went for a ‘battlefield tour’ along ‘Route 9’ (Hmmm, does that sound French or Vietnamese... or possibly US military legacy?) to see the old ‘DMZ’, the Ho Chi Minh Trail and the old Combat Base (what we would now call a Forward Operating Base or F.O.B.) at Khe Sahn (pronounced ‘Kay Sarn’), which was the scene of the biggest and most famous battle of the war in 1968.  We were on a bus trip with a local guide who claimed he’d been 14 in ’68, and that he ‘had friends who were in the Viet Cong’ which was why he knew so much about them.  Unlike the US Marines at Khe Sahn, ‘Charlie’ (VC in the phonetic alphabet is Victor Charlie, hence ‘Charlie’) did not have a minimum enlistment age...  Needless to say, I ended up giving a bit of a history lesson to some of the yanks and Brits on the bus who knew nothing.

The withdrawal of the French in ’54 was meant to be followed by a couple of years of partition, with free transition between North and South, then ‘democratic’ elections across the country would be held in 1956.  However in 1955 the Prime Minister of the South, Diem, announced that since the South did not recognise the Geneva Conferences, they were not bound by them and they would not participate in the elections.  He subsequently declared South Vietnam as the Republic Of Vietnam (ROV) with himself as President.

In January 1959 the North Vietnamese began to pump guerrillas and weapons into the South along the ‘Ho Chi Minh Trail’ which was just a series of tracks through the jungle to undermine the ROV.  The American military involvement began discreetly under JFK after he took over in January 1961, with the deployment of Green Beret ‘advisors’ to the South Vietnamese Army the ARVN (known to the yanks as ‘Marven’).  In the ‘Gulf of Tonkin Incident’ in August 1964 American warships were allegedly engaged by North Vietnamese vessels, and returned fire- although there’s an element of suspicion that this was a bit ‘Tony Blair-esque’.  This ‘incident’ lead to airstrikes by the Americans on North Vietnam from bases established in South Vietnam.  A year later, in March 1965, after several attacks on the air bases, 3,500 US Marines were deployed to South Vietnam to basically provide ‘Force Protection’ for the planes.  However, by December this number had increased to 200,000 men under General Westmoreland.  During the period of this escalation in numbers the ARVN suffered a series of heavy defeats by the communists so Westmoreland pushed President Johnson to allow him to take a more offensive approach, and to sideline the ARVN which is ultimately what happened.

Every year during the festival of Tet, the Chinese New Year, there was an informal truce between North and South, which both sides were keen to uphold.  Khe Sanh Combat Base was located on the old Ho Chi Minh Trail (before this moved into Laos between ’65 and ’72), about 20 K’s from the Laos border, and was garrisoned by elements of the US Marine Corps, as well as Green Beret types.  On January 21^st 1968, just before the Tet holiday, the North Vietnamese Army launched a sustained bombardment and assault on the Marines at Khe Sahn, which resulted in the Marines being effectively besieged up there for 77 days.  The ground around Khe Sahn is extremely steep, and covered in thick vegetation and resupplying the Marines along the ground proved impossible so the US pilots were forced to brave ferocious fire to land their C130 Hercules aircraft on the tiny landing strip to bring in reinforcements as well as supplies of food, ammunition etc. 

Figure 5:  A re-created 'sangar' at Khe Sahn Combat Base.

Figure 6:  Captured American wpns at Khe Sahn, LAW 66, M79 grenade Launcher, Claymore mine, M16 rifle

For those of us who have flown by C130 into such joyous corners of the world as Basra, Kandahar, Kabul etc, the vertical dive done on approach, prior to pulling up at the last minute, to present as minimum a target as possible for ‘Haj’ to shoot at, is known to the pilots as the ‘Khe Sahn Dive’.  Having done 3 in 1 day, on an empty stomach, in my enthusiasm to get back to London from Afghanistan for R&R, the novelty does wear off!!

Figure 7:  the landing strip at Khe Sahn where C130's had to land while coming under heavy fire.

The principle effect of Khe Sahn was that it meant that America had to deploy more troops there prior to the Tet Holiday.  This had been anticipated by the Communists as they launched their surprise ‘Tet Offensive’ on the 31^st of January, when they simultaneously attacked over 100 locations around South Vietnam including the US Embassy in Saigon, and General Westmoreland’s HQ.  The heaviest fighting of Tet was actually in the Citadel in Hue.  While the Tet Offensive ultimately ended in the slaughter of the communist participants, it is alleged to have been the turning point for a previously supportive American public.

Figure 8:  VC kit- AK rifle.

The Siege of Khe Sahn was eventually lifted on the 8^th of April when Marine Infantry and Engineer units, who had spent 8 days moving West along Route 9, with support from the soldiers of the helicopter-borne 1^st Air Cav (the black horse on a yellow shield shoulder patch) who provided over-watch from the high ground along the route, linked up with the defending Marines at the Combat Base.

Figure 9:  The terrain around Khe Sahn.

As well as visiting Khe Sahn itself, and the small museum there, we saw Combat Outpost Rock Pile, which was an 8 man Observation Post on top of a prominent hill from where the lucky individuals inside watched for VC activity in the area and, where appropriate, called in fire.  There was a big, ugly memorial to all the Vietnamese ‘messengers’ (what we call ‘dickers’) at the side of Route 9, as thousands of them had been killed- good to see the Marines on the ‘score sheet’.  We also went to the North side of the DMZ and visited a small tunnel system that was used by the Vietnamese civilians to hide in as the fighting was so intense.  This was not the VC tunnels at Cu Chi, near Saigon which I’ll get to in the next week or so.

Figure 10:  Combat Outpost Rock Pile

In the evening after some food we met up at the very Western ‘DMZ Bar’ in Hue to play pool and get drunk.  As well as blaring out good ‘All American’ music like Bon Jovi, there was a surreal moment when they started playing the tune to YMCA and everyone started making a chain around the bar singing “Vietnam Ho Chi Minh”!! 

Figure 11:  DMZ Bar, Hue.

Before I arrived in Vietnam, my thoughts were that having worked with the US Army and Marine Corps for 7 months in Afghanistan, I didn’t believe the Americans had actually lost Vietnam, but they had just merely decided to stop winning, and to withdraw.  Having been here a week now, I can’t help thinking that if an American went into a coma in 1968 and woke up here today, you’d have a great deal of difficulty convincing him that America had actually lost.

Anyway, off to meet up with the yank birds from Hanoi now, then haulin’ ass to Hoi An in the morning.

 

Good Morning Vietnam!

The Blue Sky Hotel, Old Quarter, Hanoi, (North) Vietnam

Just enjoying breakfast on my second morning in Hanoi after arriving here on Thursday evening.  After a few fairly uneventful days in Vang Vieng, I left at lunch time on Wednesday, picked up my passport and visa from the bus depot in the Laos capital Vientiane (an arrangement which hadn’t filled me with joy, but at least the embassy would be close if it went wrong!) and headed for the optimistically named ‘VIP Sleeper Bus’ to Hanoi.

The first impression of the bus was that it actually could have been far worse.  The ‘sleeper’ bit meant that instead of the standard seats there were pairs of, effectively, dentists’ chairs that reclined fully back and as we rolled out of the bus depot for the 24 hr journey I had a pair to myself and life seemed alright.   The bus was half full (or empty, depending on one’s perspective) with an Aussie lad, half a dozen British students, a foul-tempered German couple and a couple of very pleasant Israeli chaps who certainly had not been in the Golani Division or the Sayaret Matkal during their military service.

Sadly, after a couple of hours of good sleep the bus pulled into the side and the driver’s real source of income became apparent.  Various  extremely poor looking locals hopped on the bus with God knows what in bags and boxes, and filled up the seats that had not been taken.  This meant that for the rest of the trip, I had to share my ‘VIP’ berth with this disgusting creature that was coughing, spluttering and reeking of tobacco.  I just ended up resorting to the tried and tested method of sleeping in the aisle- being a fine soldier, I make myself comfortable anywhere, although I don’t usually pay VIP rates for the privilege.

The border crossing at first light on Thursday was quite an experience.  Firstly we filed off the bus in the pouring rain, along with dozens of other tourists and locals, and into the drab grey Laos official building to have our departures stamped.  As we went in there was no power and we had to use candle-light or individual head torches to fill out the docs, before the electricity flickered into life- no doubt some poor chap was peddling like mad in the rain to power the building!!

As we headed out, in the hope of getting back on to the bus we then discovered that we now had to walk about a Kilometre (0.6 Miles) up hill, still in the Brecon-like rain, to the Vietnamese Immigration.  Having had my morale tested in the pouring rain many, many times in my life, and being a practitioner of “If you can’t take a joke, don’t join”, this revelation wasn’t as much of a tear jerker for me as it was for various 18 yr olds, still in their flip flops and shorts- bless their little hearts.

The Vietnamese building was again drab and grey, although it had more windows, so any lack of lighting was not as apparent as on the Laos side.  They went through the motions of making us put all our kit through an X-Ray machine, though nobody was taking any notice of the fact it was stacked too high to see anything, if anybody was actually looking- having had to put my rifle, pistol and mags through an X-Ray machine at Kabul airport, while wondering what they were actually looking for, I’ve had the opportunity to consider how these things work.  There was also a metal detector arch to walk through, but I just inadvertently wandered past it and nobody seemed to mind. 

Once we’d eventually got through the border we all got back on the bus, soaked to the skin, and spent the rest of the day on the bus to Hanoi.  The only stop we made was for lunch in some ‘authentic’ Vietnamese establishment, in the middle of nowhere, where some minging chicken and rice cost £4, more than I pay for lunch in London and I’m guessing somewhat more than the locals pay.  Who says communists don’t understand economics?

We were greeted in Hanoi by some cheerful local chap who guided us to his minibus and took us to his hotel, the Blue Sky, which seemed as good a bet as any, and he welcomed us to Vietnam.  Interestingly, after picking out the British and Aussies, he then singled out the Americans (who in this particular case probably had no clue what he was talking about) and said they were very welcome as their 2 countries were now friends.  As a celebration of this friendship, after checking in, a crowd of us went for dinner at the local KFC.  After this we discovered that the Irish pub was shut early on St Patricks Day (economic sense that leads to bail outs...), so we all headed off for a relatively early, sober night.

In the morning I lead a procession of Aussie and German guys and Dutch girls, who’d been sitting around wondering what to do, down to the infamous Hoa Lo Prison, or ‘Hanoi Hilton’, which is what I’d most wanted to see in Hanoi.  This was a French prison known as ‘Maison Centrale’ during the colonial rule from the 19^th Century and where the frogs had held ‘Viet Minh’ (the predecessors of the Viet Cong) Communist guerrillas during the 50’s and it still has ‘la guillotine’ used to execute some of them.  It had been shut after the French had surrendered (surprising, I know) at the Battle of Dien Bien Phu, and withdrawn from ‘Indochine’ in 1954.  However once the yanks got stuck in to ‘Nam in the 60’s the prison was re-opened to house captured American airmen who had been shot down.  The horrendous conditions and torture that they endured, lead them to call it the ‘Hanoi Hilton’- who says that yanks don’t get irony?

Their most famous ‘guest’ was future Republican Senator and 2008 Presidential candidate John McCain.  Lt Cdr McCain was on the last mission of his tour in late 1967 when his A4 Skyhawk jet was hit by a SAM (Surface to Air Missile) and he was forced to bail out over North Vietnam, suffering 2 broken legs and a broken arm in the process.  Having landed in a river, he was pulled out by the Vietnamese and ended up in the Hanoi Hilton, where he was repeatedly tortured.  As if this was not a bad enough predicament, his father, an Admiral in the US Navy was subsequently appointed commander of all US forces in the Vietnam theatre, and the Vietnamese gave him extra special treatment.  Throughout his time in captivity he never gave up, and refused early release or to meet various anti-war protestors who wanted to meet him for propaganda purposes.  After 5 and a half years of torture, including being hung upside down by his broken legs, (I think British ‘human rights’ lawyers might want to clarify what ‘war crimes’ actually means) he was eventually released in 1973, and continued his career in the US Navy, retiring as a Captain (Brigadier in real terms) in the early 80's.  Compared to Barrack Obama, who is the real ‘All American Hero’?

Today the museum mainly concentrates on the French era but there are a couple of rooms of communist propaganda dedicated to the Americans, including pictures of anti-war protestors in San Francisco under the caption ‘Our Brave American Allies’.  They’ve got a captured flight suit and helmet as well as various pictures of American prisoners seeming to have a lovely time at Christmas dinners, church services etc.  They also have a picture of Senator McCain on a visit back there in 2006, which was rather thought provoking.  Interestingly the Hilton hotel chain opened the carefully named ‘Hilton Hanoi Opera Hotel’ here in 1999.

Anyway, after that we headed off to do what we would all do anywhere else in the world...  the girls went shopping (for warm clothes) and the guys went to the pub.

Today most of my companions have headed off to go kayaking in Ha Long Bay (where all those tourists died a couple of weeks ago- cheers!) for the day, but that sounded far too energetic for me, so I’m off to see ‘Uncle Ho’ Chi Minh’s mausoleum as it is only open on some days.  Obviously tonight’s priority will be to watch Jonny Wilkinson and the boys smash the Paddies and win the first 6 Nations Grand Slam since 2003...