Cu Chi Tunnels: A View from the Other Side

9 December 2010

When traveling, there is no substitute for good research. I'm not speaking of the kind of information gleaned from a guide book per se. That kind of research certainly has its place helping one get from point A to B, handling accommodations, learning some of the local lingo and planning budgets and itineraries. I'm addressing a more ambiguous form of knowledge acquisition that allows one to put together an impression of a place without ever actually having been there. I also use the term "research" in a very loose sense of the word encompassing information or feelings gathered, not from dry history books, but a multitude of sources including (but of course not limited to): films, documentaries, fiction, life experiences.

Much of sightseeing involves visiting sites with some historical significance. Without proper preparation and context, much of that significance is lost. For example, there's an old Spanish mission in south central Texas that hundreds of thousands of tourist flock to every year. The structure is old but not impressive in regard to its architecture or workmanship. The draw is the history behind the building. That history is nicely laid out on plaques and signs sprinkled throughout the grounds. For me though, being well indoctrinated in Texas history through the public school system and having seen numerous films recreating the events that occurred at that mission in 1836, life has been breathed into the words on those plaques and signs. Walking into a small cubicle of a room, I can see the old knife fighter James Bowie, on the straw cot in the corner. He stifles a racking cough with  a blood flecked rag. As Mexican troops burst through the thick wooden door he lunges to meet them with shining steel. Walking around the Alamo, I carry a picture in mind of the people who walked there before me.

Jean and I hit Cambodia and the Khmer empire cold knowing absolutely nothing about it. It took some time, some books, several museums, and lots of temples before we were finally able to wrap our minds around a bit of the Khmers history.

Of the four countries we visited in Southeast Asia so far, Vietnam is probably the one I know the most about. That stems largely from films like Platoon, Apocalypse Now, Full Metal Jacket and parts of Forrest Gump that are cast in the foreground of the Vietnam war. Upon arrival in Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC or Saigon), it quickly became evident that I was going to experience a new perspective on the conflict.


 This morning I found myself crawling through a cramped, earthen tunnel used by the Viet Cong (Communist guerilla force in South Vietnam fighting against the US backed South Vietnamese government). The air was still and stifling. I could just make out the "tat-tat-tat" of small arms fire. In my mind's eye I could see a platoon of American GIs, in olive drab, slogging their way through the jungle five feet above me.



Before arriving in Saigon, I'd never heard of the Cu Chi tunnels. However, the touts, tourist agencies, and our hotel clerk seemed quite keen on booking us on a tour. On our second full day in the country we boarded a minivan full of westerners and a very serious looking Vietnamese tour guide. Quang turned out to be humorous in a dry, morbid kind of way.

Cu Chi is a settlement 70 kilometers Northwest of HCMC. During the war it was a Viet Cong (VC) stronghold and forward base of operations. Being so close to the capital it was under constant threat of American air and ground forces. As a defensive measure, the VC built an extensive network of tunnels, at multiple levels from two to twenty meters below the surface. From a side view it would bear resemblance to an ant farm. Most of the tunnels weren't much more than shoulder width and a little over a meter vertically. Access points were small and well camouflaged. Air vents were disguised as ant hills and pepper or American GI clothing was placed nearby to confuse search dogs.



Walking through the leafy green foliage, above the tunnel network, Quang pointed out huge bomb craters that the jungle had reclaimed over the past thirty years. On display was the rusted out shell of an old American tank and a mock-up of a VC weapons factory. The factory was simple, a tarp covered pit. The Viet Cong was poorly funded and would use both non exploded and exploded ordinance to construct weaponry. They would saw into unexploded bombs and collect the powder to create their own explosives. From the fragments of bomb casing VC would make ammunition and a variety of blades. The latter would be used in a wide array of booby traps. Several of these traps were on display. Most involved some sort of trap door.










Quang was quite flippant in his description of how each maimed or killed American GIs. His epitath after demonstrating a swinging spear trap, triggered by opening a door, went something like this, "You know what happen to American GIs who open this door?... No more babies." It stood in stark contrast to the displays at the War Remnants Museum yesterday, that showed all the weapons used by American forces on the Vietnamese.


The VC had no budget to pay their soldiers so they were awarded medals instead. An Australian we had chatted with a bit, commented that it was interesting how the American and Australian military award medals for bravery, valour, and courage. The VC medals seemed strictly to relate to enemy body count totals. At the end of the tour we watched a black and white Viet Cong propaganda film that made being a soldier in the VC army like going to camp. During the day you sing and work in the fields. In the evening you play games and dance. At night you kill as many of those "crazy devil" Americans as you can. Definitely, a different perspective.

Comments

sly said…
Fascinating...I never knew the VC's perspective! Thank you, Aaron.
Unknown said…
Although I think recycling is a good thing, recyling bombs is not on my list!

Popular posts from this blog

Black Soldier Fly Larva Harvester

Roundwood Building Workshop

Apartment Homesteading: Growing Sprouts in a Milk/Juice Carton