Nick

Nick served with 3/27 Marines in 1969 and hadn't been back to Vietnam since. Like most vets who choose to return, he was a little anxious and uncertain of what he was looking for. But he did have places he wanted to see again and he brought a photograph of a Vietnamese friend that he wanted to try to find. In the company of
his cousin, Larry, he came to Vietnam to get in touch with his past.


Nick contacted me through the Internet and asked if I could help him find some of the places he was looking for; Nui Kim Son, Hills 55 and 65, Tu Cau Bridge, Go Noi.. Most of the places he wanted to see were within a couple of hours drive by motorbike and I was familiar with the areas.

First on the agenda was to try to locate the man in the photograph. Nick knew the man when he was stationed near the small village of Nui Kim Son at the base of Marble mountain. We pulled the photograph out and showed it to a lady where we had lunch. The next thing we knew, it seemed like half the village was crowded around out table. No one could identify the man but Nick had an extra copy of the photo and left it with them. The next day, a woman was waiting outside of Nicks guesthouse and told him they had found the family. We were taken to the family house and learned the man in the photo had died several years back. We were able to meet with the man's children and wife though. We were led upstairs to the family shrine and burnt incense to the man's spirit. We did have success in locating the areas Nick wanted to see. Like most who return to Vietnam, he couldn't believe how much everything has changed. What were once Marine strongholds were now villages with paved roads and satalite dishes on the homes. There is a Vietnamese monument on the top of Hill 55 now and chilie pepper farms cover Hill 65. Go Noi seems so much closer to noisey highway 1. Tu Cau Bridge is still there but is being prepared to be torn down. Only motorbikes and bicycles use it now.

After seeing the old stomping grounds, we caught the train to Hue. With the exception of inside the Citidel and a few isolated buildings, nothing remains of the devestation of Tet of '68.

Year of the Tiger

Tet, the Lunar New Year is upon us. Throughout Asia, people celebrate by remembering their ancestors, brightening up their houses, visiting friends, and partying. It's a ten day affair of good times much like a combination of our Christmas, New Years, and Memorial Day all rolled into one. The streets are filled with flower vendors and music. This is The Year of The Tiger.

Outside, a young man burns offerings to his ancestors. Money, shoes, suits of clothing both modern and traditional, all made of tissue paper, are completely consumed so that they my enter the spirit world to be joined with the loved ones who have gone before.


Inside, the old woman sits before the family shrine with incense and prayers to her husband and children who have passed. She is ninety-six years old and has traveled 600 miles from Saigon to visit her family house where she raised a family of ten children and twelve other family members during a time of war. Her hands and her frail body are records of the hardships but her eyes tell a story of love. I wish I could speak with her and hear her stories.

Five of her daughters have come to celebrate the new year with her. Together, they prepare a feast before traveling to the countryside to visit the family tombs. The road through the cemetery is dirt and full of rocks, making it difficult to push the wheelchair but the mother does not complain. It may be the last time she is able to make this journey. Thankfully, a man with a motorbike offers to ride her back to the car.

New Year 2010

I went back to The States over the holidays and froze my butt. Damn, it was cold (-6 F /-22 C) while I was there. and we had snow! I had a great time with my family while there so the cold was bearable. All of my grandkids have grown since I last saw them. Here is a picture of Cody and Alex with their new umbrellas I brought them.

Thanksgiving

There's a restaurant in Da Nang completely staffed by deaf kids. It's called The Bread of Life and it's owned by Kathleen and Bob, an American couple from Kansas. They serve real American food and it's favorite place for the expat community to eat. Every Thanksgiving Kathleen puts together a traditional holiday meal complete with turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, and pumpkin pie. A bunch of us went there this year and stuffed ourselves. The Vietnamese who joined us thought the food was a little strange but most of them agreed it wasn't bad.














If you are in Da Nang, stop in at The Bread of Life if you are in the mood for a good western meal. Not only is the food great, but you'll be helping the deaf community. It's just a block off the river behind the Green Plaza hotel on Le Hong Phong Street. Oh yea, they serve a mean pizza too. And they deliver.

Happy Birthday Marines

There is a small contingent of Marines living in Vietnam these days, about six that I know of. And as Marines all over the world, those of us who were in town took time out yesterday to celebrate the Marine Corps 234th Birthday and remember our fallen brothers. What better place to do this than on China Beach. The beer was warm, the vodka cheap, and the cake messy but we had a great time.

The party was not restricted to Marines. We had friends and families join us so there was an interesting mix at our little party. The conversations ran from war stories to politics, from family issues to health issues, from life in the US to life in Vietnam. It was a good time for us with a few tears and a lot of laughter.

I want to wish all my Marines out there a Happy Birthday and to all who served, a happy Veterans Day.

Semper Fidelis
Bill

I haven't made any new postings for a while because I've been back in the States for a couple of months. While there, I did some remodeling to my house in Colorado, visited family, and went to the Marine reunion. So, all in all, it was a good trip but I was definitely ready to get back here again. I'm back in Da Nang now and trying to readjust to the time zone and the culture again. It always takes about a week to get back on track.

I missed the big typhoon that blew in through this area last week. I arrived two days after the storm hit and the remnants were still visible when I got here; trees down, power lines down, and a lot of flooding to the south of Da Nang. Though Da Nang did have damage, the brunt of the storm hit about thirty miles south of here. Work crews have been busy cleaning up and I am amazed at how fast they have put things back in order. Other than a little water seepage through a few walls, my house remained in pretty good shape.

The Ho Chi Minh Trail

I turned twenty in Vietnam when I was here in 1969 and now, on the first of July of this year, I turned sixty. The picture to the right was taken of me up on the DMZ on my 20th birthday. I'm the guy sitting on the left. My sister sent me a birthday package complete with party hats, whistles, streamers, and a cake. Though the cake was green with mold by the time it got to me, we ate it anyway.


For my 60th birthday, Anh got a couple of friends together and we took a motorbike ride through the jungled mountains along the Laotian boarder on what is now called The Ho Chi Minh Trail. It was a magnificent two-day trip into a part of the country where few tourists venture.The Vietnamese have developed a network of roads through the mountainous areas and have appropriately called it The Ho Chi Minh Trail. Much of it actually is part of the old trail used by the North during the war and it runs through some of the most rugged and remote parts of Vietnam from Hanoi to the Delta in the south.

We took a 500km ride starting from Da Nang and heading west into the mountains. Once we got up close to the Laotian boarder, we headed north to the small town of A Lui in the Ashau Valley about 80 km west of Hue. This was some of the most spectacular scenery I have seen with dense jungle, rushing rivers and low hanging clouds as far as the eye could see.

About every twenty km or so we would pass through a village with straw huts and colorful people. Most of these villages have what is called a rung, a community house where the people gather for social events or official business.