I first visited Vietnam with the U.S. Navy in March 1965, assigned to the seagoing staff of Cruiser-Destroyer Flotilla Seven, which was responsible for setting up the coastal “Market Time” patrols to prevent infiltration of arms to the Vietcong. As an aide to the commander, I accompanied him on an initial reconnaissance flight along the coast, stopping to inspect many of the coastal Vietnamese Navy headquarters to get some idea of assets already in place and to develop requirements for U.S. patrol elements—such as the Swift Boats—that would follow. We stopped for a night in Saigon and stayed at the old Majestic Hotel near the Saigon River. That evening, we had cocktails on the roof of the Rex Hotel, which remains today.
A year later, I was back “in country” as a Navy frogman, conducting operations south of Saigon in the so-called “Rung Sat Special Zone,” and I was a frequent visitor to Southeast Asia from 1966-1972, courtesy of the U.S. Navy, in and out of the region with Underwater Demolition and Sea, Air, Land (SEAL) teams. I returned briefly to Saigon in 1973 as part of an inspection trip to Phnom Penh, Cambodia. Ultimately, I was ordered back to Cambodia in 1974 as the naval attache in Phnom Penh. This assignment offered more opportunities to visit Saigon with duties on the “Tri-Partite Committee,” responsible for organizing Mekong River resupply convoys into Phnom Penh.
My last view of Saigon was in mid-March 1975, just prior to the fall of both cities. I left Phnom Penh on 6 April; the remaining embassy officials decamped five days later. The Khmer Rouge occupied the city on 17 April. My recent visit, then, in March 1996 with representatives of the international group “Food For The Hungry,” represented my 30- and 20-year anniversaries.
Some Americans question: Why normalize relations with the Vietnamese, especially if they are holding out on U.S. servicemen missing in action? This issue is hard for anyone to duck. My central theme, however, is that I believe normalization is the correct policy.
Having served during the Vietnam War, I, like many other veterans, regret and even feel a bit guilty about “The Wall,” the memorial in Washington to those Americans killed in the war. But Vietnam, for all its horrors—its post- traumatic stress syndrome, Agent Orange disease, KIAs, and MIAs—was not the same kind of struggle for Americans as was World War II or Korea. The Vietnam War was ten one-year wars, one each for the majority of Americans who served there—along with rest and relaxation trips to Hong Kong, Thailand, and Australia. Conjugal visits to Hawaii, choices of duty depending upon DEROS (date eligible to return from overseas), and the “Ho Chi Minh” automatic promotion system rounded out the in-country assignment perks—all flagrant, maladroit attempts to lure volunteers and turn U.S. fighting men into mercenaries. The point is that the war was mismanaged from the beginning.
Someday, blame will be determined historically, but Congress held no hearings on the war after April 1975. The corporate amnesia from the Vietnam War still permeates our culture and prevents our looking beyond the experience. It is still with us.
The Vietnam experience is, however, why today’s U.S. Army is so impressive. That the Vietnam War was a foreign policy blunder is probably beyond dispute. I believe it could have been won early on, but the fits and starts by several administrations doomed the efforts of better men in the field well before the final fall in 1975. The late historian Bernard Fall made the case that after World War II, the United States urged Great Britain to give up its colonies—the Dutch the same—yet continued to encourage the French to hold on in Indochina before pulling out the rug in 1954. Hell in a Very Small Place, about Dien Bien Phu and La Rue Sans Joi, a primer on the French experience in Vietnam, are among the best histories available. Had anyone in President Lyndon Johnson’s National Security Staff read them? Are we, therefore, going to penalize the Vietnamese forever?
Our Food For The Hungry party consisted of Mrs. Luyen Shell, a Vietnamese, naturalized U.S. citizen from Phoenix, Doctor Jim Freddo of San Diego, and me. Our mission was to see if Dong Thap Province hospitals had medical requirements that could be filled through potential grant money. In addition, we were edging our way into a broad assessment of the current business climates in Ho Chi Minh City and Hanoi. To this end, we had informal discussions with several business and government representatives, all of whom told essentially the same story: The foreigners are all coming in, but the Vietnamese want (and miss) the Americans.
Things obviously have changed since 1975. My most striking impression was the growth in the population of young people. More than half the population is under 25, and the country will number 80 million by the year 2000. Yet despite this and the meager annual per capita income of $250, Vietnam has one of the highest literacy rates in the region. I especially was impressed by the amount of English spoken, possibly because the government has ordered a second language requirement of people under 40 in government jobs. English is the language of choice, followed by French, Japanese, and German.
We began our trip in Ho Chi Minh City, staying at the Rex Hotel. Hotels in Vietnam are costly, but restaurants are very reasonable. For instance, my hotel suite at the Rex started at $150 a night, but entrees at the Hanoi French restaurant Gustave were $7. Vietnamese fare is even more affordable, and we ate it more often than not.
The former Red Light district of central Ho Chi Minh City has been cleared out, and there are fewer gin mills in evidence than in 1975. Unfortunately, today, where the “ladies” used to be are ample numbers of young rip-off artists waiting for the unwary foreigner. In fact, corruption today in Vietnam is probably as bad if not worse than it was under the previous regime. For example, on a trip south to Vung Tau, the old French beach town, we were stopped by two motorcycle cops for a 10,000-Dong payoff, about 70 cents at D 11,070 to one U.S. dollar. Graft among officials has reputedly grown into an art form.
Our visit to Dong Thap Province was central to the trip. We met with local officials and medical representatives from the Sa Dec provincial hospital. These doctors deserve medals every day they go to work. Of the four surgeons we met in Sa Dec, three spoke English and French. One, Dr. Nguyen Chan Phonp, received training from the University of Illinois and spent 1994 in France. They lack nearly everything. The sole incubator must have been requisitioned from the departing French in 1954. The x-ray machine is 20 years old—the kind that sterilizes you before you find you have tuberculosis. The recovery room is open to the elements, with no air conditioning. The obstetrician-gynecology stirrups are scary. Immediately outside the operating room is a “klong,” a mud drainage ditch peculiar to Asia and a veritable mosquito trap. At all times, we had to step over patients awaiting treatment.
One delightful official we encountered was a former Vi- etcong province chief, now 82 years old and owner of a glass eye from a combat wound. This elder, Nguyen Xuan Truong, is president of the Dong Thap Union of Friendship Organizations. A charming person, he hosted an evening meal—during which the lights went out throughout Sa Dec, a routine occurrence. The following day, he stood in for the mayor at a luncheon where we presented him with a copy of the photographic album Passage to Viet- mm. The luncheon included giant Mekong prawns, among the best in the world. We had beer to drink; the old “Ba Mui Ba” (Thirty-three) beer has changed its name to “333.”
We visited the port facilities in Dong Thap and received a briefing on their trans-shipment capabilities. They were reminded by Luyen that, owing to my past tours, I knew quite a bit about the Mekong. Everyone yukked it up at that. It was my impression from the cities and the countryside that no one bore Americans any resentment. I felt thoroughly at ease with the people, as well, even more so with the former military men I met. I suppose being gracious is easy if you have won. Retired Army Colonel Harry Summers once wrote that he mentioned to an active- duty Vietnamese Army officer that they had never beaten the United States in battle. The officer acknowledged that this was true, but alas, totally irrelevant.
Following the hospital visits, we traveled to the seaside town of Vung Tau. The Russians are there in numbers helping the Vietnamese with off-shore oil drilling operations. A Bahamian consortium is putting $285 million into developing a fancy marina in hopes of returning the area to its former preeminence as a vacation resort. This is a significant gamble, inasmuch as there are several unfinished hotels with no activity visible by any construction crews.
One indicator of population growth became evident en route to Vung Tau, when we ventured off the main road down to Cat Lai, the navy town south of Ho Chi Minh City where I had spent time in the old headquarters of the Vietnamese SEAL Team, the Lien Duong Nui Nhai. In 1972, the five-mile country road was rural, with few inhabitants roadside. Today, it is the Vietnamese equivalent of the suburbs—houses and shops crowding the road, people, bikes, motorcycles, cyclos (a three-wheeled, shovel-shaped taxi), cats, dogs, cattle, sheep, chickens, and ducks. We mingled somewhat apprehensively but were totally ignored by the throng of roadside dwellers. It was as if we were invisible.
On 5 March, we flew to Hanoi via Vietnam Airlines. The airline boasts new planes and French and Australian pilots. The service—if not the schedule—is impeccable, and English is spoken by all attendants. It was my first visit to Hanoi, and we crossed the Red River (Song Hong) on the Can Chuong Duong, which runs parallel to the Can Long Bien, “Long Bien Bridge,” a frequent target for U.S. bombers. We stayed at the Hotel Metropole, situated one block away, on the eastern side of the Ho Hoan Kiem lake.
Hanoi is a city of lakes, the largest, Ho Tay, Westlake, is ten minutes northwest of downtown Hanoi. It borders the Red River dikes, which were the subject of bombing raids during the war but were never attacked in earnest— possibly owing to the potential loss of life should the city become flooded. I know the opinions of the pilots who had to fly the missions every day, but history will be the final judge on that strategy. A memorial to the antiaircraft batteries is situated at Westlake; it has Senator John McCain’s name on it, along with “USAF.”
Hanoi is an impressive city. English is spoken in hotels and most restaurants, and an amazing amount of it can be heard elsewhere. The dollar is accepted everywhere, especially in the black market exchanges. The taxi meters are even in dollars. At the current exchange rate, it would be rather cumbersome to pay a million-Dong fare. Three nights are not enough time, admittedly, to do justice to the various attractions, such as Ho Chi Minh’s tomb. That trip can wait, as well as one I want to make to Dien Bien Phu, where a recent parachute jump was staged: “Jump into Dien Bien Phu with the Vietnamese airborne regiment,” went the advertisement. Maybe next year.
A great deal of construction is going on around West- lake, so much so that people are building without permits. It is cheaper to pay the fine than the up-front fees and kick- backs. In addition to the French restaurant, Gustave, we found the only Irish pub in town, the Emerald, replete with upstairs pool table, Irish stew, chips, and draft beer—and an Irish owner.
I did not see an obvious communist the whole time I was in country. Everyone seemed to be working hard. The system needs gross reform if it is to compete in the world economy, just like Eastern Europe’s. To the extent that the United States can facilitate Vietnam’s transition to a market economy, it would appear to be in our national interest to help out. The many names on the Vietnam Memorial represent this country’s wager that something in Vietnam was worth the effort.
When the discussion reverts to MIAs, it might be worthwhile to realize that the Vietnamese had more than 300,000 MIAs themselves—from both sides.
We now have designated a U.S. Ambassador to Vietnam—Douglas “Pete” Peterson, a former U.S. Air Force pilot who spent more than six years as a prisoner of war in Vietnam—but we are still a day late and a dollar short, notwithstanding 1995’s $100 million trade numbers. As reported in a Citibank brochure, since 1986, an “open economic policy,” doi moi, removed virtually all price controls, with far-reaching effect throughout the economy. This spurred production, which forced the state-owned enterprises to take responsibility for operations. This also eliminated some inefficiencies so typical of socialist-communist economies. Citibank says that: “Growth in the 1990s has averaged about 6% per annum and was over 8% in 1994. Inflation has been reined in from the three-figure rates of the 1980s to under 20% since 1992. Trade is growing exponentially as a result of liberalized legislation and improving international relations.”
Admittedly, Vietnam will not become a second South Korea overnight, with Gold Star electronics and Hyundai factories. The longer we wait to put the past behind us, however, the longer the “Vietnam Syndrome” will dominate the American psyche. We will never get the catharsis we still need until we come to terms with old enemies.