Graham Forsyth's Return To Vung Tau Saga
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From: Graham Forsyth
Subject: Back to Vung Tau
To: blackponies-l@telepath.com
As some of you know, I went back to Vung Tau on business last year. I
thought I would post a few comments on what it was like. Keeping it
brief will be difficult since there was so much to see, but you can
always hit the `delete' key. (I'm no journalist, either).
{later: I'm going to post this in several parts. I am going to Saudi
Arabia and Abu Dhabi for a couple of weeks but will try to get it out
before I leave}
I spent about 6 weeks there in two trips in Sept and Dec. Haliburton
contracted with the company I work for to do work on a machine tool
made by us which had been moved down from Jakarta. The site was a
construction yard where they were making offshore oil rigs.
Anyway, I flew in to Tan Son Nhut, arriving from Singapore where I
spent a couple of days getting a Visa thru Brown & Root Contractors.
As we descended, I immediately recognized the landscape of the Delta.
However, what struck me immediately was that there were no bomb
craters! I have no idea whether they were erased by time or by the
millions of people that were sent to repatriation camps. Landing at
Tan Son Nhut, there were some buildings that were obviously there
during the war. Along side the taxi way were many of the cement
`Quonset' type revetments: one had a large peace symbol, obviously
left behind by some GI (and probably also left there on purpose by
the communists).
The airport was a mad house just like in the old days. The customs
people were very interested in the floppy disks I was carrying but
just barely inquired about my video.
I was met by a non-English speaking driver and escorted to a Mercedes
(!) for the trip to Vung Tau. We left the airport and by the time we
got about a quarter mile down the road it all felt so familiar. We
were driving thru Saigon on the wrong side of the road with trucks,
bikes and motorbikes coming at us from every direction. Then we
would come upon someone laying under a truck working on something,
right in the middle of six lanes of traffic. Sound familiar to
anyone?
The road from Saigon to Vung Tau is terrible altho it is being
worked on.
In Vietnamese fashion, tho, we kept up the speed and just launched
off into the wind when the pavement would end. We passed many
villages that looked like they hadn't changed as well as many
modern factories.
We skirted the Rung Sat where I saw a lot of fish farming. I didn't
see a lot of Mangroves: maybe they never recovered from agent orange?
Finally, I began to make out the hills around Vung Tau. The first
thing that I really recognized were the Mickey Mouse ears (antennas)
on top of the mountain to the west of the city. (Who were those guys
who lived with us that worked up there?) We continued into town to
the hotel where I would be staying. The ride took about 3-1/2 hours
(no stops) and, altho I'm glad I did it once, I'll never do it again.
After that I took the ferry up the Song Nha Be.
The hotel I stayed in was called the Petro House (obviously
catering to the petroleum industry). It is French colonial,was
renovated from when we were there and is quite nice. It was right
across from the police station which hasn't changed a bit (I'm
sure some of you remember that!). Upon checking in, I had to
surrender my passport which was sent over to the police station
so they could start keeping tabs on me. It came back in a few days.
After checking in, I met my contact in the bar where we were served
by a pretty, young Co in an Au Dai. I couldn't help but be reminded
of Co Hai, our bar girl at the BOQ.
As I looked around Vung Tau, one thing that I found interesting was
that almost every physical trace of the war (barbed wire, pill boxes,
revetments, faded names on buildings, etc.) was gone. There were a
lot of old US Army trucks but I didn't see a single one where I
could make out lettering underneath the current paint. In a typical
Asian culture where anything you don't need is left in the weeds, it
must have taken a very concerted effort to erase all traces of our
presence.
The next surprise came when we drove out to the yard. It was on
the water, right across the street from the old airfield! The
gate has changed: it is now at the west side of the base at the
end of the road that went by the Army hangars. (I'm pretty sure
it used to be at the south end). It was used for a while as a
local airport but there isn't service any more. The Russians use
it for helos that service the rigs. I tried to meet some of the
pilots with a mind to get a ride, but no luck.
Altho the base was restricted, my driver somehow had a pass for
it. A couple days later I conned him into getting me thru the
gate. We drove ahead and picked up the old route where we used
to come in the gate and turn right. However, there were road
blocks preventing us from getting around that end of the runway
to the old squadron area. From a distance, it appears to be
completely erased. The buildings along the front (the old army
hangers and warehouses) looked familiar. Again, I could not make
out any markings from the old days. We did drive around the west
side where I found traces of the Marston matting from the old short
runway. The wall around the outside of the airfield is the same,
I think and there are a couple of metal guard towers that could be
old enough.
The main part of the downtown area hasn't changed a lot. The old
Grand Hotel is there along with the brightly painted fishing boats
in the harbor. The road along the waterfront is 4 lanes and paved,
but there are still restraunts there. You can still get your
picture taken with a boa constrictor wrapped around your neck.
There are also still lots of bars - I'm sure some of the ones I
went to were probably the same ones we went to: only the names and
the girls have changed. I couldn't get over the fact that I was
buying Saigon Tea for a girl whose mother may have been sitting
there drinking it the last time I was there!
I always liked the Vietnamese people and it hasn't changed. They
seem genuinely happy for the most part but unfortunately don't seem
to realize what they've got. They all want to come to the USA which,
for many of them, I think would be a mistake. Many, however, have
relatives in the states and would like to join them. Thus, many
schemes are born to try to gain access to the states. One of the
`schemes' seems to be finding MIA remains. My driver, Dien, (we
were not allowed to drive and had to go every place with our
assigned driver) came to me and said that he had access to some
remains and we would drive to his village to visit his parents where
we would be taken to another location to view the evidence.
In his favor, he and his parents fully believe in what they are
doing, are very afraid of getting caught and are probably being
duped by someone who is charging for the information. All they
asked in return was consideration in being allowed to immigrate
to the USA.
The trip to the parents home was really quite an experience. On
a Sunday we (a Scot friend I worked with went with me)piled into
our car (a Mitsubishi Mekong, built in Vietnam) along with our
driver Dien, his wife and young son and another lad from the yard
to act as interpreter, and headed out of town. Outside the bigger
cities, around the rice patties, life seems to go on a lot like
before. Children tending cattle, a family riding to town on a
buffalo card, etc.
If it hadn't been a 4-wheel, we wouldn't have made it. Dodging
herds of water buffalo and buffalo carts on muddy dirt roads, we
wound up off the road a couple of times. We finally arrived at the
village where everyone turned out to see the round eyes. About
10-15 buildings and no cars. We were introduced to Dien's parents -
his father had fought in the war and spent 7 years in the
repatriation camps. (Most of the older men I got to know spent
time there.) They fixed chicken with lots of side dishes and beer.
Outside, a man came by and dumped some snakes on the ground and the
whole village had a good laugh while we did a short snake dance and
a hasty retreat. We also investigated a couple of four foot long
lizards of some kind that were tied to the porch of the hootch next
door, destined for the cooking pot, no doubt.
As we sat in the house, all the children gathered outside to peek
at us thru the window (no glass). When we turned around and said
`chow em' or made a face, they would all giggle and run away (some
of the braver ones replied with a `hello' first). The kids are
still as great as I remember them - always smilingl and ready to
laugh or giggle.
After our meal, we left for the `secret meeting house', stopping
to relieve ourselves along the road - me standing next to mama-san
who was squatting next to someone else, etc. Just like old times.
I won't go into details about the information I was given except
to say that Kit Lavell and a friend of his helped me research the
data upon my return and it turned out to be false. (I have been
contacted several times after returning and even had a small
package of bones delivered along with more names).
Anyone remember the big French cannons on top of the mountain
(Nui Nha, little mountain? Go to the beach and turn left) -
they're still there. Separating them is a new statue of Christ
with outstretched arms - you can climb to the top and walk out
onto the arms. Great view! You can make out the main runway
at the airfield and follow the old flight path out to the beach.
Inside the base of the statue is a small shop run by nuns.
Outside is a small zoo with a few monkeys, snakes and birds.
Also on that mountain is the lighthouse (still in use).
Turning right at the beach takes you around the other mountain
(Mickey mouse ears) to the fishing village and Buddhist temple.
About half the people appear to be Catholic and the other half
Buddhist. However, a lot of the Catholics seem to pay a visit
to temple before important days or when there's illness in the
family. Guess it doesn't hurt to cover all the bases.
The one thing I wanted to find most was the old BOQ. As near
as I can tell, it's gone. I believe I found the original gate
that we used when leaving the airfield and followed the road
outside which is now dirt (it went almost directly between the
base and downtown?), but couldn't find anything I remembered
distinctly. About 1/4 mile from the base that road goes into
a new road leading to a monument to the revolution. From there,
there has been a lot of upgrading with about a square mile of
hi-rise apartments housing about 5000 Russians and their
families.
I guess to put the town into perspective, the downtown core was
just like the old days. As you go further away, there are new
apartments and nicer homes that weren't there when we were there.
Then as you get closer to the base and further out of town,
things kind of go back to where they were before. Along the
water out in the area of the base there are newer factories
and manufacturing facilities.
Food was great. Ate out lots from down and dirty joints to some
surprisingly good restaurants. Brought back a bottle of snake
wine with a cobra in it with it's tongue sticking out. Met a
couple of Aussies that did the cobra thing at one of the local
restaurants: ate the live heart, drank the blood mixed with wine
and then ate the cooked the snake. They (the Aussies) haven't
changed either. The prices were very cheap compared to most
parts of the world. (However, if you want to buy an expensive
gift or souvenir, have a Vietnamese friend buy it for you -
everything is a lot more expensive for foreigners. Even a
bar-girl will be happy to go shopping with you during the day -
no strings attached)
A friend invited me to go see the VC tunnels at Cu Chi
(remember calling = Cu Chi arty for max ords?). I didn't go but
I guess it was incredible. You actually crawl down into them
with a guide. They housed thousands and we didn't even know they
were there....
The communist influence was interesting. Apparently it runs from
hard line up north to the most liberal down in the delta. In
the construction yard they were building two rigs. The biggest
was for JVPC: Japan-Vietnam Petroleum Company. It was being built
by VietSovPetro - Vietnamese and Soviets. Haliburton was there to
supervise and ensure quality on behalf of Lloyds and the Japanese
but could not do any actual work. It all resulted in lots of
frustration. The Vietnamese workers had `jobs for life' and
absolutely no work ethic. They would do the job wrong, QA would
find it flawed, they would tear it out and the process would
repeat. It wasn't that they were trying to make more work, they
just couldn't grasp the idea that it had to be done right - as
long as one piece of metal sticks to another, that's a weld,
right? Couldn't offer incentives (not `communistic') so
Haliburton suggested sending the less proficient offshore to
work on the rigs. But then quality went down until the found
out offshore work paid more! (Working on the machine, we had a
Russian, several Vietnamese and a Scot. At least I could talk
to the Scot! I was the only American there)
Private enterprise, on the other hand, was flourishing. While
there, I bought a Pentium computer and parts readily in a
downtown shop. Pharmacies were well stocked; American beer
was available. TV's were prevalent altho there wasn't much
other than propaganda on the Vietnamese channels. But CNN, the
Ryder Cup, etc were available in the hotel. I could phone
anyplace in the world from the hotel as long as I paid $5 a
minute!
Like I said, when I left I took a Russian-built high speed
ferry up the river to Saigon. (It's OK to use Saigon unless
you're talking to an official). Great trip passing sampans,
work boats and small villages - if you go, be sure to take the
trip at least one way.
The local Haliburton office in Saigon is in a modern high
rise office building complete with tennis courts. A
Singaporean friend and I took the Vietnamese girl who works
there for dinner, stopping for drinks on the roof of the Rex
Hotel (the Saigon BOQ for the Americans and supposedly listed
as one of the "Great Bars of the World). Later, he and I had
drinks at the Q-bar. Stayed at the Norfolk Hotel, which I
believe was there also.
Shopped for souvenirs, etc.
Word of caution. I and most of the people I met removed
everything from our pockets and took off our watches while in
Saigon. It's safe and fun but there are lots of pickpockets
(that hasn't changed either). Stick to known places at nite or
take a cab. In Vung Tau, on the other hand, I walked home several
times late at nite and had no trouble (other that receiving
offers of `rides' from `ladies' on motorbikes).
If anyone read this far, feel free to ask questions.
Fair winds and following seas to all!
Graham