Last Look Around
- Pondering during a last look around HaNoi
Returning to the capital for our last day, we visited the Air Force Museum at our request. It is listed in the guide book as one of the best. It isn't. There is a collection of old US and Russian aircraft outside. The signs talk nonsense about this antique spotter plane that shot down 109 American fighter planes and that helicopter flying hundreds of rescue missions to save babies and small children who were being attacked in orphanages, hospitals, and schools by American Bombers. It was getting old, and I must admit that I have mixed feelings about this place.
I feel anger at a president who lied to us; who took us to war and insisted on running it himself; who knew nothing about this country or its people, not even knowing how to pronounce its name; and who ignored military professionals and assembled a civilian group of whiz kids who had never served in the military and laughed derisively at Von Clauzwitz's classic Principles of War, saying they were outdated, and then proceeded to violate every one of them with their idea of limited warfare. It cost us a lot of good people and accomplished only carnage.
The LongBien Bridge, pictured below is a symbol for the North for their toughness and resilience. It spans the Red River at HaNoi and is the main rail link to the port. Our Navy kept bombing it and dropping it onto the mud flat. Each night work crews would jack it back up. Of course, it was built by the French almost a century before.
Long Bien Bridge over the Red River, Hanoi
I get angry thinking of the former South VietNamese politicians and Generals who thought power was given them for their own personal benefit. I get angry at the North and Uncle Ho who had no intention of keeping their word. I get angry at Congress who would not allow the president to respond to a full scale invasion from the North, thereby abandoning those to whom we had made promises. I am angry at Stalin, the mass murderer, and Kruchev, who so crudely threatened everyone in the West. They in large measure formed American fear of Communism. I am angry at the Communist Party in VietNam for punishing now the 3rd generation of those loyal to the South. I cannot, however be angry at the people we have met here. They are rightly prideful of their victory, but are quick to be friendly and gracious to us.
Walking the streets of HaNoi at night one more time was a pleasant experience. Families gather in the dark on the sidewalks in front of their little store/residences. Later in the evening, ladders appear in the back of the open front and children head up to bed. Old people begin to snore in hammocks in the front, right at the street for all to see. Those in between sit on the sidewalk, which is their living room, socialize with neighbors, and do end-of-the-day chores. The Photo, above, is of 3 generations of a family which runs a small store. We bought our bottled water there each day and they treasured our visits. We could communicate well - the Grandfather spoke French, so I would tell John what I wanted to say or ask and he would tell Granddad in French. Granddad would translate to his family.
We walked all the way around Sword Restore Lake. There is a small painted glass sign on a low building, illuminated from the inside. We watched with amusement as the silhouette of a huge rat appeared and moved back and forth behind the glass and in front of the lamps inside. We stopped at our regular place for water on the long walk back to the hotel and three generations of the family poured out to greet us as we made our 50 cent purchase. I shall miss them.