Vung Tau
The country of Vietnam and the battles fought there last century rightly loom large in the collective Australian consciousness, especially its servicemen and women. I was lucky enough to go over there recently on a trip that while being admittedly busier than the Canadian immigration department after the US election, was absolutely unforgettable.
We landed in Ho Chi Min City and were met by Blair, who would be looking after us for most of the trip. His extensive knowledge of the country, its language and its history was to be an invaluable asset time and again. We were quickly into a minivan and on our way to Vung Tau. The traffic on the streets of HCMC was harder to make sense of than the plot of Interstellar. Bikes, cars and pedestrians, weaved amongst each other without need for traffic lights or even much concept of right of way. The drive from HCMC to Vung Tau took about two hours and I spent the majority of it staring out the window at the countryside, which changed from the loud and chaotic sprawl of the city, with tall buildings and cranes dominating the skyline, to a more rural aspect with green fields and sudden rising hills in the background, before turning back into urban sprawl around Ba Ria and then Vung Tau. The term ‘culture shock’ was a bit of an understatement for describing our feelings over the next few days in the province, as we visited some really significant landmarks. We arrived at the Imperial Hotel, which was basically the exact site that the 1st Australian Logistics Group had been based. The hotel itself was a magnificent structure, high-ceilinged and opulent. Something I could never afford to stay at in Australia. It stood directly across the road and overlooking the beach facing straight out to sea (which being the committed photographer I am, I completely forgot to take a photo of). |
The next day we drove out to the grassy hill of Nui Dat, which had been Australia’s base for combat operations. From the road, it looked fairly unremarkable, just an asymmetrical dark green knoll that was less developed than the characters in a Transformers movie. Of course, the significance of the place was far more than just what you could see. The sense of history was almost visceral as we picked a winding path up the side of the hill and were at the top in less than ten minutes. Using old photos and plans, we tried to visualise what the landscape would have looked like 50 years ago. Looking to the eastern horizon we could even make out the edge of the Long Tan Rubber plantation. I’m glad I took a photo from there, as once I got any closer I had to put the camera away.
The memorial itself was a white cross, set in a slab of polished red tiles and surrounded by a lower level of white tiles on which we stood. It was as simple as it was powerful. The plantation itself had actually been recently harvested so it looked more like a grassy field than a true plantation, but there were more mature plantations to either side. It happened to be the 50th anniversary of the battle of Long Tan on the day we were there (well I say it happened like that was a coincidence when in fact it was about as coincidental as the FBI reopening the investigation into Clinton’s emails a week before the US election). Unfortunately, due to some diplomatic difficulties, the planned service did not take place and in fact the Vietnamese police were out in force to make sure there were no large scale commemorative activities at the site. So instead of the scheduled service, we waited our turn and then made our way up to the cross with a group of veterans. It would have been nice to be able to spend more time there and take a few photos, but there were a lot of people waiting and we understood the situation. Despite the short nature of our visit, it was still a memorable moment in the trip. There was something intimate about sharing the silence with veterans without the formality of a large military ceremony. |
In the afternoon we drove out to the Long Hai Hills, also known as the Minh Dam Secret Zone- a rugged ridge of rocky hills overlaid by thick tropical jungle foliage. It was a fascinating area, as during the conflict it endured more bombs than Channel Ten did last year, but Australian Forces were never able to fully clear it of enemy despite a number of attempts. After a short walk uphill through the winding jungle path, we came to the caves and got a first-hand look at just how difficult some of this terrain would be to fight in (I was half expecting to see the translucent outline of the predator watching me from one of the trees). We crawled down into one off the caves and were amazed at how far down it went, with all five of us standing comfortably some ten metres underground (I had no instrument to measure this so treat my figures with the same suspicion you treat claims by the anti-vaccination movement- actually my guesses are still way more trustworthy than those statements).
We got back to the hotel late in the evening, had a quick dinner and headed out to the beach for a swim. The sun had gone down, but there was a bit of light from the moon and the stars (it isn’t usually hard to find the water from the beach anyway). There was a decent swell rolling in and I had been entertaining the idea of body surfing as I walked across the sand and down to the waterline. That didn’t turn out to be possible. A powerful current swept us to the left like a conversation with Waleed Aly. To make things worse, the slope of the beach was flatter than the Australian Stock Market, so after 50 metres I was still barely past my knees and already 20 metres to the left of where I had started. I gave up on surfing and settled for a manly frolic (we can do that in the 21st century) before heading back for a couple of laps of the pool before bed.
The next day was sadly our last in Vung Tau. I got up early and went for another swim before going to town on the buffet breakfast like a hungry Elvis Presley. On our drive back to HCMC, we took a sidetrip through Ba Ria, which was the site of considerable action for the Australian forces during Tet offensive. We drove up through the main street, again looking through old photographs to help picture the conflict, before heading north back to HCMC for the second part of our trip.
We got back to the hotel late in the evening, had a quick dinner and headed out to the beach for a swim. The sun had gone down, but there was a bit of light from the moon and the stars (it isn’t usually hard to find the water from the beach anyway). There was a decent swell rolling in and I had been entertaining the idea of body surfing as I walked across the sand and down to the waterline. That didn’t turn out to be possible. A powerful current swept us to the left like a conversation with Waleed Aly. To make things worse, the slope of the beach was flatter than the Australian Stock Market, so after 50 metres I was still barely past my knees and already 20 metres to the left of where I had started. I gave up on surfing and settled for a manly frolic (we can do that in the 21st century) before heading back for a couple of laps of the pool before bed.
The next day was sadly our last in Vung Tau. I got up early and went for another swim before going to town on the buffet breakfast like a hungry Elvis Presley. On our drive back to HCMC, we took a sidetrip through Ba Ria, which was the site of considerable action for the Australian forces during Tet offensive. We drove up through the main street, again looking through old photographs to help picture the conflict, before heading north back to HCMC for the second part of our trip.