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March 2001

My wife and I just returned from a two-week trip to Southeast Asia, 10 days of which were spent in Vietnam.  The trip was not strictly pleasure, though the hotels we stayed in, save one, were equal to 4 or 5 stars in the US.

We began our trip in Hanoi, flying there in two hops from Siem Reap, the Cambodian center for Angkor Wat tourism, where our guide was Le Van Cuong, a NVA soldier from 1972 to 1977, so he really never fought GI's.  He is a robust anti-communist (at least for my consumption) and was loud and frequent in his denunciation of that form of government as practiced in his country from 1975-85.  He came back home to Hanoi after 5 years fighting in the south, and found that there was no monetary system, only vouchers and queues.  To get rice for his family, he took a voucher to the commissary and stood in line for hours to get his food, etc.  When he wanted clothing or any other fungible good, he used a voucher and stood in line.  He and his friends had no money.  If anyone he knew came up with money, he was immediately denounced in a 'suggestion box' on each street corner, just underneath one of the 2 loudspeakers used by the government to 'inform' the public.

In 1985, the Russians went broke and left, taking everything they could with them, just as the French did in 1954, making his country even poorer (what is poorer than the poorest?) after then, capitalistic reforms began in the country.  Now there are thousands of shops and businesses, though any big business is owned either completely by the government of in conjunction with a foreign power.  The government owns every square inch of land and every building - they just lease them back for 50 or 100 years.

In Hanoi, a French colonial architecture dominates the landscape, with no new-high rise buildings evident, and the only new buildings in the concrete style favored by the Russians.  There are 100 bicycles and motorbikes to every car, and no expensive cars are evident in Hanoi.  There are few traffic signs and lights and everyone comports themselves under the laws of our old wild west.  Biggest and loudest vehicle goes where it wishes and everyone else scatters.

I am reminded of a metaphor of a ship's bow cleaving the waves as I watched our driver wend his way from one curb to the other in downtown and suburban Hanoi, sending the motorbikes and bikes scrambling for an inch of clearance on either side of our car.  This same scene was repeated for 10 days, up to 6 hours a day.  We reckon our drivers alone, and there were four different ones, honked the horn a million times.

We went to Halong Bay to see the beautiful thousands of tiny islands poking above the bay - the trip was harrowing for the reasons stated above, but once we got on our boat, we were able to see representative examples of the millions of Vietnamese who live on boats as small as 12 feet long and 4 feet wide for their whole lives, depending on fishing and barter and an occasional tourist for their livelihood.

Tourists throughout the country were generally French or German or Japanese.  We saw very few English and a rare American, almost always backpackers.  We saw at least two small groups of veterans who were back to see where they had been 30 years before.

We flew to Hue, were diverted to Danang, which is still a viable, but down at the heels airport, like all those in the country.  Our bus trip to Hue from Danang over three mountain passes was even more nerve-racking than our Hanoi experience. There were overturned trucks and buses in the middle of the road, the road itself was in terrible condition, and the same lawlessness with no regard for any rule that we take for granted was pervasive in our trip.  A bus accelerates so much more slowly than a car, but is so much more formidable, that we made good time - about 15--20 miles per hour was standard.

In Hue, we saw the imperial city that made up a small part of the citadel, but our guide, a former VC from 1960-1975, was reluctant to show us anything that resembled an American victory.  I had read a book on the Hue siege in 1968, so asked questions about location of various strategic areas.  He was of little or no help, mainly wanting to focus on the riches of the Nguyen Dynasty that spanned about 150 years, from 1800 or so until 1946 when Bao Dai abdicated.  We saw some burial sites of Nguyen kings that were fairly well preserved.

The next day we went to the poorest part of all Vietnam, Quang Tri Province, north of hue and at the DMZ.  Our guide showed us Lang Vay, a Special Forces camp, distinguished only by a sign, a burned out NVA tank that they said was American, and a bunch of bomb craters.  Next, over the drivers' protests, we saw Khe Sanh.  The site was so fogged in, that we could see only a few meters.  Again, a light tank of non-American vintage, severely damaged, was the only marker on the site. There was a recently built frame cottage that contained some pictures and war memoirs, pointing only to the NVA victory after the U.S. left.

We saw the site of Camp Carroll, again distinguished only by a concrete sign.  We were told we did not have time, or a four-wheel drive vehicle that was required to visit Ashau Valley or Hamburger Hill.  With what we had already seen, I was not too disturbed.  The Quang Tri Province is almost up to the living standard of rural Tanzania, excepting the tourist spots in Tanzania, which are very modern and beautiful.

So far, Vietnam had depressed me and filled me with sorrow that they had retrogressed since 1968, rather than prospered.  

Danang City is a sickle-shaped ramshackle strip of jillions of small shops and karaoke spots (read 'car wash') lining route one.  A small section is left over from the French and has nice buildings and clean streets.  This is close to Marble Mountain, a tourist trap of the first order.  I changed 300 dollars of travelers' checks into dollars with a 2 dollar service charge - quickly and with no fuss.

The average Vietnamese employee makes between 1 and 3 dollars a day, the smaller amount being typical. a one dollar tip is a whole day's wage to bellboys, waiters, and drivers.   Guides make about 10-15 dollars a day, I think, but that may be inflated.  We tipped incredibly generously under these rules and still stayed under our budget.

We went to Hoi An, a beautiful (by VN standards), and I bought two silk shirts that never need ironing (they don't) for 10 dollars each.  They expected me to bargain, but I didn't because they would have cost 15 times that here.  

The Furama Resort Hotel at China Beach is the equal of any 5 star hotel in the states.  And for the first time, we could drink the water and eat the ice.  They have special filters and UV light treatment of the water.  It was incredibly beautiful and the food was great, as it was our entire trip.  I even ate the nunc mam with my rice.  They mainly eat it with vegetables, my guide told me.

We flew in an airbus 320, roughly equivalent to a 767 to Saigon (which everyone calls it) and were upgraded to business class by our guide with a little persuasion.  Our Hanoi guide also got upgraded for our flight to Hue/Danang.  This cost us nothing but reasonable tips to the guides the day before our trips ended.  

Tan Son Nhut has not changed in 34 years.  They are building a new runway, and there is some construction, mainly repairs, going on.  We were driven first to the Reunification Palace, the Presidential Palace for all those who know better.  

Saigon has traffic lights, lanes, stop signs, and a huge amount of traffic which flows like an American city, with almost everyone except a few bikers following the rules.  Saigon is not dirty, has a jillion new buildings, well-maintained roads and thoroughfares, and an incredible hotel we stayed in, the Sofitel Plaza.  We had a huge suite with two bathrooms for $185 a night.  Unfortunately, we only stayed one night. we then went to the highlight of our visit.  Saigon has boomed so much, I could not recognize any landmarks.  I took pictures of what I think might be a remodeled 'Claymore Towers' at the Third Field, and maybe some remodeled Third Field buildings, but I would not swear to it.  The location was right and the building had a concave front that paralleled that of the Claymore.

We drove through the slums - miles of the same shops we saw in Hanoi, but increasingly seedy as we left town.  There are about 4 roads north instead of one, and we picked two wrong ones first.  When we began traveling in open country with crossing the Saigon River and seeing wooded areas, red dirt, and open country with no rice paddies, I was fairly sure we were on the right track.  We took a left turn to go to Bien Hoa and passed through Tan Hiep.

At that point, I knew where we were, so backtracked to the main road, and pulled across traffic into a huge industrial complex that was solid concrete, warehouses and administrative buildings.  I saw a water tower that could have been the 24th's and took pictures of it, but am fairly sure it was not the right one.  It was taller and less squatty in the tank itself and the supporting structure did not look familiar, nor was there a walkway around the tank itself.  The rest of the country for miles around was solid with warehouses and offices. 

Click on photo for larger version.

On a hill a mile or so from the water tower (which I think was build somewhere around LBJ), was a tree-covered hilltop VN military base, which were two story buildings of the same construction as USARV.  If so, and my guide said that it used to be a U.S. Headquarters building, I was in the right spot, but all traces of our endeavors at that place had been erased as surely as communism has been erased in Saigon. 

Let me set the scene: an American GI stands with his VC guide on the pitted vacant stretch of laterite that had been a powerful marine base in Khe Sanh.  The American turns to his guide and says, "You know, don't you, that we never lost a major battle to you guys?" "Yes, says the VC, but that is irrelevant!"

Now that I have been back and have seen the situation, I would be able to tell that guide, "Yes, but that is irrelevant."  Communism is already dead in Vietnam, just as the war was dead in 1973 when we left, but the last shoe did not fall until 1975. The last shoe has already fallen, and the sock is coming soon.

I was saddened by the passing of the physical presence of the 24th - just as WWII 24th Evac'ers could not show the world the spot where he and she came to an all new understanding of the meaning of life and death.

However, the 24th will live on in our memories as the place where our lives became intertwined, defined by our abilities to function at a fever pitch for days at a time, ignoring exhaustion, hunger, and sleeplessness while expending our maximum efforts to care for the maimed and dying.

 Donald Patrick

Here's a picture of the 24th Evac water tower taken by Donald in 1967.  

Click on photo for larger version.

'BH' was inscribed by one of our partying doctors and meant something earthy, but I don't remember what.  The BH led to the tower being painted its characteristic checkerboard logo.  It's hard to think the second tower is the same as the first, but perhaps the tank, with redone support, removal of the walkway, and addition of the top rails, could be the same.  Notice it is of the same construction as the original, with two rows of welded plates.  However, in our original tank the welded joints jutted out more.  What do you think?  Donald

Go to this aerial shot of the 24th taken in June of 1969.

Updated: July 7, 2003