“Of all the places on this earth that we could go; why Vietnam?,” asked my very accommodating husband when I presented this destination to him.   We have this sort of un-spoken agreement.  He races in regattas with my complete support and blessings four seasons of the year.  I am not a sailor so I keep myself busy when he is sailing on Gaucho.  To appease me, he goes along with what ever exotic destination I may choose between regattas. Mostly.  We went to Africa last year even though my first choice was Vietnam then too. I couldn’t quite sell it.  We had an epic trip and walked with the cheetas, among other crazy, unforgettable things.  So this year I kinda’ twisted his arm a bit and we (ok–I) chose Vietnam.  Am I spoiled?  Hell yes.  But I appreciate it. 🙂

It seems I have an affinity for visiting former war fields.  I have visited Pearl Harbor, Gettsyburg, the Royal War Museum in London, the Beaches of Normandy and American Cemetery in France, the Vietnam and WWII memorial in DC, Dachau concentration camp, Wansee Conference hall, Munich , Hamburg, Hitler’s Eagles Nest, Berlin and now Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia in the next few days. Yeah, I see a pattern here.  I’ve said it in past blogs but its all my high school history teacher’s fault (Mr. King).  He instilled a love of history in me that has only grown through the many years since his class.  I wish all students had a Mr. King to bring the past alive in an interesting way.  It seems history is not being stressed in todays schools and many kids have very little knowledge of how we got here and the past mistakes mankind has made; therefore doomed to repeat them they say.

Being a baby boomer (so tired of that label) my Dad was a very proud WWII Marine veteran.  He enlisted right after Pearl Harbor and somehow survived the infantry fighting in the Pacific and came home to his wife and two small children in 1945.  I didn’t show up until 1952.  He had little education and a very difficult childhood.  His Italian immigrant mother lost her husband, my grandfather, in 1917 to the world wide influenza; the same year my Dad was born.  They lived in the West Virginia hills and my grandmother tried to raise 6 boys and a girl with no husband and no help.  The boys had to work in the coal mines as soon as they could to help support the family.  My Dad was picked on for his Italian heritage and was always sensitive about it.  I spent most of my life being ashamed of his life.  I just came to grips with that recently.  He was a coal miner (had the black lung disease to prove it) and then a construction laborer.  Always the worst jobs.  But you know what?  As shitty as his work day was, he never missed a day.  Calling in sick was never a thought.  He had a tremendous work ethic and did what he had to do to support his family.   I wish I had been smart enough to realize that while he was still alive and tell him how I appreciated him.  I wasn’t that smart.

As a little girl he got me interested in watching WWII black and white documentaries on the weekends.  I would sit next to him and watch the grainy dog fights over Europe and jungle footage in exotic Pacific islands.  He never talked about the war to me but I remember him having screaming nightmares and we would have to wake him up.  My Mom would say that he was “back in the jungle”.  Yeah, how do you get over that?

So when my teenage years coincided with the Vietnam war, like thousands of my generation, there was friction at home.  Here was my Dad, whose was rightfully proud of his WWII service to his country and family and then there was me, the all knowledgeable, wise sage of the world, Miss- know- it- all 16 year old opposing the Vietnam war.  Never occurred to me to look at where he was coming from.  Of course he would think young men should call to arms willingly if their country asked.  He did! Why were these snot nosed, long haired bums trying to avoid the draft?  I couldn’t, or wouldn’t see his side.   As the war raged on and it became evident to even Walter Cronkite (one of the last trustworthy news broadcasters of all time) that the war was an unjust one and we should end our involvement and carnage, my Dad, and many of his generation didn’t get it.  Life regret:  I wish I handled the subject more diplomatically with my Dad.  But diplomacy and teenagers aren’t a great mix.  Sorry Dad.  So sorry.

So going to Vietnam is kind of a pilgrimage for me.  We will be going to many war sites and I know I will feel the ghosts around me just as I did in past trips.  I am curious to see how the citizens there approach the “American War” as they call it (and it was) with visiting Americans.  The young Germans I met on my Third Reich tour surprised with owning their past.  Do we own ours in Vietnam?

Putting the the morbidity of the war side, the country is beautiful and we are both looking forward to visiting the many Buddhist temples, Mekong River, Ha Long Bay and other places we don’t even know about yet.  We’ve talked to other Vietnam tourists and they say it is one of their favorite places.

5 weeks ago I fell down the icy steps and broke my left arm and had some stitches in my head, blah, blah.  I’m doing ok.  Well enough to travel!  Then there’s the Corona Virus thing freaking out the world.  Hey lets travel close to ground zero China in a health crisis.  Yep, still going.  The universe may be trying to tell me not to go on this trip but not going to listen.

I will try and blog as we go so I can get things down while I can remember them.

Chuc ngu ngon for now (good night).

 

COUNTRY JOE AND THE FISH

Well, come on all you big strong men,

Uncle Sam needs your help again.

He’s got himself in a terrible jam

Way down yonder in Vietnam

So put down your books and pick up a gun

We’re gonna have a whole lot of fun

And its’ one two three what are we fightin’ for?
Don’t ask me I don’t give a dam, Next stop is Vietnam
And it’s five, six seven, open up the pearly gates
Well there ain’t no time to wonder why
Whoopee! We’re all gonna die

Come on Wall Street, don’t be slow

Why man, this is war au-go-go

There’s plenty of good money to be made by supplying the army

with tools of the trade, but just hope and pray if they drop the bomb,

they drop it on the Viet Cong!

And its’ one two three what are we fightin’ for?
Don’t ask me I don’t give a dam, Next stop is Vietnam
And it’s five, six seven, open up the pearly gates
Well there ain’t no time to wonder why
Whoopee! We’re all gonna die

Come on mother’s through out the land

Pack your boys off to Vietnam

Come on father’s don’t hesitate to send them off before it’s too late

Be the first one on your block to have your boy come home in a box!

And its’ one two three what are we fightin’ for?
Don’t ask me I don’t give a dam, Next stop is Vietnam
And it’s five, six seven, open up the pearly gates
Well there ain’t no time to wonder why
Whoopee! We’re all gonna die