My story in Guernica

Articles, Photograph, Veterans, Vietnam
Graffiti from a Marine unit on an abandoned Iraqi military barracks shows the Iraqi and American flags in 2003. Photo taken by Benjamin Busch.

Graffiti from a Marine unit on an abandoned Iraqi military barracks shows the Iraqi and American flags in 2003. Photo taken by Benjamin Busch.

My essay on the return of veterans to Iraq was published in Guernica Magazine today. You can read it here. And if you’d like to see some more photos taken by Marine vet Benjamin Busch, you can check out this feature in the War, Literature and Arts journal.

Friendship Village

Photograph, Protest, Travel, Veterans, Vietnam
Nissa and Friendship Village Director Dang Vu Dung

Director Dang Vu Dung and I pose in Friendship Village’s reception room.

When I was in Hanoi this summer, I visited Friendship Village, a community founded by an American veteran in the early years after the war as a symbol of peace and reconciliation. Thanks to the continuing support of American veterans and their families, the village has since grown into a large residential school and medical center that serves 70 Vietnamese veterans and 120 children affected by Agent Orange.

The village is run by Director Dang Vu Dung, a North Vietnamese Army veteran of the US-Vietnam War. He served in Quang Tri Province starting in 1972 and was tasked with ensuring that the North Vietnamese troops had enough food. After retiring from the military, Dung came to Friendship Village and met American veterans for the first time.

“I discovered that American veterans are very friendly,” he told me when we met. “American veterans and North Vietnamese vets now work well together. We’ve closed the door on the past and opened the door to the future, and we have become friends with each other.”

When I asked Dung if he had any negative feelings toward the American people after the war, he said no.

“During the war, I knew that there were people in the US protesting the war in Vietnam. The US veterans were very young and forced to come to Vietnam by the American government. But they didn’t understand much about Vietnam.”

Plaque in front of Friendship Village's main school

The dedication plaque on Friendship Village’s main school building. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

One of those Americans protesting the war was George Mizo, the American veteran who first conceived of Friendship Village in 1988. George volunteered for the Army at age 17 and became the youngest sergeant in the US military by the time he was 19. He eventually made his way to Vietnam, where he was wounded three times. George became disillusioned with the military’s mission in Vietnam and the Army’s treatment of Vietnamese civilians. After recovering from his battle injuries, George refused to return to Vietnam and was court-martialed. He spent the next two years in a military prison.

But George’s experience in Vietnam was far from over. Thirteen years after the fall of Saigon, he made his way back to Vietnam, determined to make a positive difference there. He said of the trip: “The horrible experiences during the war and the suffering of everybody on all sides inspired me to do something that would be a living symbol of peace, reconciliation and hope.”

After extensive discussions with Vietnamese veterans along with peace activists from France, Germany, Japan and the United States, George’s “living symbol” — Friendship Village — finally opened in 1998.

Students in computer lab at Friendship Village

Students can learn a number of computer programs at Friendship Village, including Photoshop and Microsoft Excel and Word. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

Friendship Village classroom

Students practice their writing and arithmetic in a Friendship Village classroom. American volunteers have painted murals in the classrooms and dorms. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014).

Peace sign student

A Friendship Village student takes a break from her cursive lesson to pose for the camera. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

Sixteen years on, the students and veterans at Friendship Village are thriving. Three students have gone on to college after graduating from the school. Despite the challenges the students face in getting admitted, one student I met told me that he hopes to go to university and become a writer someday. Others will use their new skills to find jobs as hair stylists and artisans in their communities back home.

A student practices embroidery in a classroom at Friendship Village.

A student practices embroidery in a classroom at Friendship Village. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

Beauty salon at Friendship Village

In Friendship Village’s newest venture, students learn how to wash and style hair. The hope is that such training will allow the students to find jobs in beauty salons. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014).

While George passed away in 2002 from an illness linked to his wartime exposure to Agent Orange, American veterans and their families continue to be involved in the village today. Veterans like Don Blackburn are members of the village’s international board and spend time raising money for the Vietnamese students and veterans who rely on the village for support. Additionally, the village hosts a large roster of international volunteers and interns who do everything from paint murals in the classrooms to teach the students math and photography.

When I met up with Don last summer, he read for me a poem he wrote after visiting Friendship Village for the first time in 2005. “In this village, humanity makes a stand,” the poem goes. “Here, in the eyes of the stricken who survive, / in the hearts of those who work and give, / I see a reason to hope, dream, and live.”

The poem — entitled “For Friendship Village” — can be found in his book “All You Have Given: Meditations on War, Peace & Reconciliation.” A portion of the proceeds from the book benefits Friendship Village.

The DMZ: Part One

Photograph, Veterans, Vietnam, War sites
A map of the former DMZ, which separated North and South Vietnam.

A map of the former DMZ, which separated North and South Vietnam.

When I was in Vietnam in June I visited the former demilitarized zone, which once separated North from South Vietnam. The DMZ would have turned 60 this year with the anniversary of the 1954 Geneva Agreement, which divided Vietnam into two states and laid the groundwork for the Vietnam War.

During the war, the region saw fierce fighting including the Battle of Khe Sanh in 1968. By the time Saigon fell in 1975, only 11 out of the 3,500 villages in Quang Tri Provence south of the DMZ remained intact.

Today, monuments, museums, and rubber plantations have sprouted in the former battlefields. In order to get a better sense of what the DMZ was once like, I hired a tour guide to take me the length of the zone — from Dong Ha in the east to the Laotian border in the west. My guide, Tran Hoa, was a veteran himself. He was conscripted into the South Vietnamese military and served there from 1974 to 1975.

Over 12,000 North Vietnamese fighters are buried at the Route 9 National Cemetery. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

Over 12,000 North Vietnamese fighters are buried at the Route 9 National Cemetery. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

Our first stop was the Route 9 National Cemetery, which houses the remains of over 12,000 Viet Cong and North Vietnamese fighters. Many of these fighters died while traveling down the so-called Ho Chi Minh Trail, the clandestine network of roads used by the North to infiltrate the south.

Tran Hoa, my guide, shows me one of the hundreds of graves for unknown soldiers at the Route 9 Cemetery. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

Tran Hoa, my guide, shows me one of the hundreds of graves for unknown soldiers at the Route 9 Cemetery. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

There are 72 war cemeteries in Quang Tri Provence alone and many of the bodies buried there have yet to be identified. Since the fighters died far from home, there often wasn’t family members or friends around to claim the dead. Hoa told me that some families have now decided to use DNA analysis to find their deceased relatives. Others resort to more ancient techniques and consult psychics to tell them where their family members are buried.

A monument marks the entrance to Camp Carroll, a Marine Corps artillery base. (Photo by NIssa Rhee, June 2014)

A monument marks the entrance to Camp Carroll, a Marine Corps artillery base. (Photo by Tran Hoa, June 2014)

West of the cemetery lies the remains of Camp Carroll. The US Marine Corps used the camp as an artillery base during the war since it had a clear view of the nearby hills and valleys. Today, however, you can’t see much from the camp — trees from a rubber plantation obscure the view.

Toady, the only remnants of Camp Carroll are some scraps of sandbags. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

Some scraps of sandbags near the cement platforms that used to hold large artillery. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

The cement platforms on which the artillery used to stand remains at the base, as do scraps of sandbags from the war.

The Rockpile, an important US military outpost used between 1966 and 1968. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

The Rockpile, an important US military outpost used between 1966 and 1968. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

Further west along Highway 9 is The Rockpile, also known as Thon Khe Tri. The Army and Marines used it as an observation post during the war. Because of its steep sides, the only way on or off The Rockpile was by helicopter.

During the war, Viet Cong forces had to ford the Han River as part of the Ho Chi Minh Trail. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

During the war, Viet Cong forces had to ford the Han River as part of the Ho Chi Minh Trail. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

The Han River travels from the South China Sea westward along Highway 9. During the war, North Vietnamese forces had to ford the river in order to continue southward on the Ho Chi Minh Trail.

Hoa Tran, my guide, shows me the Dakrong Bridge that   crosses the Han River. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

Hoa shows me the Dakrong Bridge that crosses the Han and Dakrong rivers. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

Today, however, the Dakrong Bridge makes crossing the river easy. Cuba initally funded the building of the bridge in support of North Vietnam’s war efforts.

An ethnic minority village in the valley near the former Khe Sanh combat base. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

An ethnic minority village in the valley near the former Khe Sanh combat base. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

Before the war, the region south of the DMZ was home to abundant wildlife and natural forests, as well as a strong ethnic minority population who built their homes on stilts to protect against tiger attacks. The fighting during the war, however, killed or scared off the native tiger population and the environment was further decimated by the use of defoliants like Agent Orange.

The forests are now growing back — though they are not nearly as lush as they once were — and ethnic minorities have returned to their traditional homes. Hoa tells me that the village in the valley near Khe Sanh got electricity only three years ago.

The Khe Sanh Combat Base museum and an American helicopter brought in for curious visitors. (Photo by NIssa Rhee, June 2014)

The Khe Sanh Combat Base museum and an American helicopter brought in for curious visitors. (Photo by NIssa Rhee, June 2014)

Near the western edge of the DMZ are the remnants of Khe Sanh Combat Base, a Marine Corps outpost. After the brutal 1968 battle here, in which North Vietnamese troops surrounded the base for 77 days, the US abandoned Khe Sanh and destroyed or removed all of their equipment and buildings.

When American veterans started to return to Vietnam in the 1990s and asked to visit Khe Sanh, the Vietnamese government realized the value of the old base. They transformed the abandoned piece of land into a tourist destination, building a museum and bringing in old American tanks and helicopters.

A diorama at the Khe Sanh combat base museum shows how Viet Cong forces traveled along the Ho Chi Minh Trail. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014).

A diorama at the Khe Sanh combat base museum shows how Viet Cong forces traveled along the Ho Chi Minh Trail. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014).

Veterans who visit the base might be disappointed to learn that the museum is filled mostly with propaganda; one photo from the 1968 battle is captioned “US marines shutting themselves in bunkers for fear of their own shadows.” Like at so many war museums in Vietnam, it’s clear here that history is written by the victors.

Hoa tells me that he’s taken many American veterans to the former DMZ since he became a guide in 1992. He says that he was surprised at just how emotional a journey it is for some former soldiers.

“Many Americans are scared of the Vietnamese people,” Hoa explains. “But when they come here, they find out that the Vietnamese are friendly. When they learn how much the Vietnamese suffered during the war, they often apologize for the war. But I think that’s just war. People suffered in World War I and II and in Korea and Iraq and Afghanistan.”

“We have had too many wars with too many countries,” he continues. “Before the US, we fought France, and before them, we fought the Japanese, Chinese and Mongolians. And it wasn’t just the US who participated in the 1965-1975 war, there were also the Australians and South Koreans. So we think the US war is just one small war and that the US is just one of the many countries we have fought.”

An American tank brought in by the Vietnamese government sits on the former Khe Sanh combat base. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

An American tank brought in by the Vietnamese government sits on the former Khe Sanh combat base. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

Across the street from the former Marine base, is one of Khe Sanh’s many coffee farms. The arabica beans grown in the region have transformed the former conflict zone into a booming coffee town. Still, the war is never far from the farmers’ minds. Just this April, a coffee farmer lost both his hands when he found a leftover bomb from the war and it exploded at his touch.

In my next blog post on the DMZ, I’ll look at one of the organizations in Quang Tri addressing the issue of unexploded bombs and landmines today. Project RENEW was cofounded by American veteran Chuck Searcy and is a great example of how former enemies are working together on a deadly legacy of the Vietnam War.

My Lai: Part 2

Humanitarian, Photograph, Veterans, Vietnam
An MQI-funded well in Nghia Tho village in Quang Ngai Provence, Vietnam. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

An MQI-funded well in Nghia Tho village in Quang Ngai Provence, Vietnam. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

Nearly fifty years have passed since the My Lai massacre, but many Vietnamese in Quang Ngai Provence are still suspicious of or even hate Americans today. US Army veteran Mike Boehm‘s Madison Quakers, Inc organization is trying to overcome those negative feelings and build friendship and understanding between Americans and Vietnamese in Quang Ngai.

Mike started working in the provence 20 years ago when the Quang Ngai Women’s Union asked for his help in starting a micro-credit loan project. He partnered with English professor Phan Van Do and together they have developed a wide range of humanitarian programs in the provence. Mike estimates that MQI has raised and donated over $1.5 million to projects since the organization began.

When I visited Quang Ngai last month I got to see some of their work, including a series of water wells in Nghia Tho village. The people who live in the village are from the H’re ethnic minority and more than 69% of the population live in dire poverty.

An MQI-funded well in Nghia Tho village in Quang Ngai Provence, Vietnam. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

An MQI-funded well in Nghia Tho village in Quang Ngai Provence, Vietnam. The well provides water year around. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

Previous attempts by groups to build wells in the area failed because of the hard bedrock, which kept the wells empty during the dry season from May to August.

A woman living in Nghia Tho village in Quang Ngai Provence shows me the water that now flows into her house thanks to the well. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

A woman living in Nghia Tho village in Quang Ngai Provence shows me the water that now flows to her house thanks to the well. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

Through hard work and persistence, MQI was able to overcome this problem by drilling through nearly 300 feet of granite to reach a constant flow of water. Do says that thanks to the wells, thousands of people now have ready access to clean water.

Children play at a center for victims of Agent Orange run by VAVA in Quang Ngai. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

Children play at a school for victims of Agent Orange run by VAVA in Quang Ngai. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

The United States sprayed Agent Orange and other herbicides in Quang Ngai during the war, and these chemicals are continuing to affect the people living in the provence today.

MQI is raising money for an outdoor playground for the children at the VAVA center in Quang Ngai. (Photo by NIssa Rhee, June 2014)

MQI is raising money for an outdoor playground for the children at the VAVA school in Quang Ngai. (Photo by NIssa Rhee, June 2014)

I visited a school run by the local branch of the Vietnam Association of Victims of Agent Orange (VAVA), which MQI has donated to in the past. The school currently has an indoor playground with physical therapy machines, but MQI is trying to raise money to build them an outdoor play area as well.

The MQI-funded My Lai primary school. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

The MQI-funded My Lai primary school. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

A Vietnamese proverb states: “For a profit in ten years, invest in trees. For a profit on a hundred years, invest in children.” MQI took this to heart when they built the My Lai Grammar School. When MQI first visited the site where the school now stands, it was just an empty field with a few houses. Now, it it home to the most popular primary school in the area. It has three buildings with a total of 16 classrooms. US Army veteran Hugh Thompson — who helped stop the My Lai massacre — donated money so the school could have indoor bathrooms.

The entrance to the My Lai Peace Park in Quang Ngai. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

The entrance to the My Lai Peace Park in Quang Ngai, with trees planted by US veterans and survivors of the My Lai massacre. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

While there are many war memorials in Vietnam, until recently there have been no places dedicated to peace and healing. MQI worked with the Vietnamese government to build the My Lai Peace Park so that people had a place “to visit and remember the past and hope for the future.”

Mike Boehm along with veterans Hugh Thompson and Larry Colburn at the groundbreaking ceremony for the peace park. (Photo courtesy of MQI)

Mike Boehm (2nd from left) with veterans Hugh Thompson and Larry Colburn at the groundbreaking ceremony for the peace park. (Photo courtesy of MQI)

Hugh Thompson along with Larry Colburn — a member of Thompson’s helicopter crew who intervened in the My Lai massacre and helped save civilians — attended the groundbreaking ceremony for the peace park. Along with some of the Vietnamese survivors of the massacre, the veterans planted the trees that line the road to the peace park.

Mike Boehm with a family in Tinh Giang commune, Quang Ngai. MQI is working on getting this family a compassion house. (Photo courtesy of Phan Van Do)

Mike Boehm with a family in Tinh Giang commune, Quang Ngai. MQI is working on getting this family a compassion house. (Photo courtesy of Phan Van Do)

One of MQI’s biggest projects has been building “compassion houses” for very poor families in Quang Ngai. These simple cement houses often replace ramshackle structures, which would fall apart during typhoon season.

I sit with the same family inside of their home in Tinh Giang commune, Quang Ngai. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

I sit with the same family in their home in Tinh Giang commune, Quang Ngai. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

I visited one family who is in need of a compassion house in Tinh Giang commune. The head of the family is a single mother and she told me that she’s worried that her house might collapse and hurt her two children. MQI is now working with her and they hope to build her a new, safer house soon.

A family shows me their old house in Tinh Giang commune, Quang Ngai. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

A family shows me their old house in Quang Ngai. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

The difference between an old house and a new compassion house is stark.

The same family with their new house in Tinh Giang commune, Quang Ngai. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

The same family with their new house in Quang Ngai. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

Where wooden planks and corrugated metal once provided shelter, new homes have cement walls with separate rooms, glass windows, and metal doors.

A woman feeds her water buffalo, which she was able to purchase through a microloan from MQI. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

A woman feeds her water buffalos, which she was able to purchase through a micro-credit loan from MQI. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

MQI still works closely with the Quang Ngai Women’s Union, who help Mike and Do identify families in need. I visited one family identified by the Women’s Union that was able to purchase a female water buffalo through a micro-credit loan from MQI. The buffalo has given birth to a calf and is pregnant once again. The family told me that if they sold the buffalos today, they could get $1,500 for the mother and $700 or $800 for the calf. The is a substantial amount of money for the family and will make a major difference in their lives.

If you’re interested in learning more about Mike and Do’s work in Quang Ngai, please visit their website. There, you’ll be able to watch the award-winning documentary The Sound of the Violin in My Lai, which features Mike, and learn how to donate to their projects.

My Lai: Part 1

Photograph, Veterans, Vietnam

Note: This post contains some graphic descriptions and artist renditions of the My Lai massacre.

The biggest memorial sculpture at the My Lai massacre site. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

The biggest memorial sculpture at the My Lai massacre site. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

While in Vietnam, I visited the My Lai massacre site in Quang Ngai Provence, central Vietnam. The site is now home to a large complex of gardens, sculptures, graves, remnants of homes, and a museum.

Along with the Tet Offensive and battles at Khe Sanh and Ia Drang, the My Lai massacre is one of the most well-known events of the Vietnam War. On March 16, 1968, a task force of the Americal Division of the US Army marched into Son My Village and killed between 347 and 504 unarmed civilians.

Much of what we know about the massacre today comes from helicopter pilot Hugh Thompson who, along with his crew, tried to stop the killing and saved the lives of at least 10 civilians. While Thompson reported the massacre to the US military, it wasn’t until November 1969 that the American public learned about the atrocity through the reporting of Seymour Hersh. The village was marked as My Lai on US military maps, so the atrocity became known as the My Lai massacre.

In their excellent investigation Four Hours in My Lai, writers Michael Bilton and Kevin Sim describe the importance of the My Lai massacre as such:

The massacre at My Lai and its subsequent coverup stand in the history of the Vietnam War at the point where deception and self-deception converge. If the Tet Offensive of 1968 had mocked America’s complacent expectation of an imminent victory, My Lai’s exposure late in 1969 poisoned the idea that the war was a moral enterprise. The implications were too clear to escape. The parallels with other famous massacres were too telling and too painful. My Lai had been on the same scale as the World War II atrocities at Oradour in France, and Lidice in Czechoslovakia, outrages which had helped diabolize the Nazis. Reports now suggested that, if anything, the behavior of the American troops had been even worse. Americans, who at Nuremberg had played a great part in creating the judicial machinery which had brough the Nazi monsters to book, now had to deal with a monstrosity of their own making. (1992, pg 23)

 

A detail from a mosaic at the My Lai massacre site. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

A detail from a mosaic at the My Lai massacre site. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

The different manner in which Americans viewed the World War II and Vietnam “monstrosities” was apparent in the months following Seymour Hersh’s articles. While the media focused on the “very normal young men”  — average age 20 — who had been transformed into heartless killers by the war, not much attention was given to the Vietnamese killed in the massacre. As journalist Jonathan Schell explained in the The New Yorker in December 20, 1969:

When others committed them, we looked on the atrocities through the eyes of the victims. Now we find ourselves, almost against our will, looking through the eyes of the perpetrators.

 

Today, the My Lai site in Quang Ngai looks at the massacre through the eyes of its victims. Walking past the foundations of homes and the famous ditch from Ron Haeberle’s photograph, you can almost imagine what the village looked like immediately before the massacre took place.

The ditch from Ron Haeberle's famous My Lai photograph. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

The ditch from Ron Haeberle’s famous My Lai photograph. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

The foundation of a house owned by Mrs Truoung Thi Le that was destroyed in the massacre. Three of her family members were killed in the massacre, ages 8, 17 and 64. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

The foundation of a house owned by Mrs Truoung Thi Le that was destroyed in the massacre. Three of her family members were killed in the massacre, ages 8, 17 and 64. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

An example of the kind of houses which used to fill My   Lai village. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

An example of the kind of houses which used to fill Son My village. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

A museum at the site showcases some of the belongings of the villagers who died and dramatic dioramas of the massacre. The Vietnamese claim that 504 civilians were killed (the US Army says 347), and a marble plaque near the museum’s entrance lists each and every victim’s name, age, and gender.

A memorial plaque in the My Lai museum lists the names of those killed in the massacre. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

A memorial plaque in the My Lai museum lists the names of those killed in the massacre. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

A life-size model of the My Lai massacre at the museum. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

A life-size model of the My Lai massacre at the museum. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

A sweater owned by one of the massacred children that was recovered from the My Lai massacre site is displayed in the museum. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

A sweater owned by one of the massacred children that was recovered from the My Lai massacre site is displayed in the museum. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

The My Lai site is not solely focused on the past, however. Outside the museum sits a large bonsai tree donated by US Army veteran Mike Boehm. The tree hints at the recent work of Boehm and his organization MQI to improve the lives of Vietnamese living near My Lai and to build friendships between Americans and Vietnamese 46 years on.

A Bonsai tree donated by US Army veteran Mike Bohem sits at the entrance of the My Lai massacre museum. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

A Bonsai tree donated by US Army veteran Mike Bohem sits at the entrance of the My Lai massacre museum. (Photo by Nissa Rhee, June 2014)

Later this week, I’ll describe some of MQI’s projects in Quang Ngai, including building water wells, “compassion” houses, a school, and a peace park.