NuiBaDinh

The Black Virgin Mountain

Having seen the Black Virgin Mountain up close, I hastily revised my objective. I hoped then to climb to the base of the escarpment. That should have been enough to give us a view of the plain where I served. This mountain holds a mystery for me. After having been dropped off a helicopter at Tan Uyen in the middle of a fire fight by mistake, I began to watch my pilots more carefully. (I was supposed to have been dropped off at Tay Ninh, not Tan Uyen.) This mountain became my reference point on the border. From the air, and sometimes as I led convoys on the ground around western 3rd Corps, I could see this 3,000 ft dormant volcano. The steep sides were hotly contested throughout the war. The US Army had a signal unit on the strategic summit and the Tay Ninh Army base with an ARVN division controlled the plain, at least during the daylight hours. The VC, however, held everything in the middle. 

Many times I watched bombers working over the sides of Nui Ba Den. Our artillery pounded it daily, and several times I saw tear gas engulfing its sides. Lastly, this mountain is a symbol of this conflict in this area along the Cambodian Border, where I served. It has stood in the shadows of my memory along with the back side of the moon as a place forever un-reachable to me. Climbing this mountain simply wasn't going to happen. For it to take place would truly be a sign that the war is over. 

The guide, Heip, who was rapidly becoming a friend, said that we should leave the hotel at 9.  I said 5 would be better since we wanted to climb as far as possible before the heat of the day hit. He explained that we only climb a little way to the pagoda and that that takes only a couple of hours. I explained that he could go or not, but that I was heading up as far as my knees would take me. We compromised and departed this flea-bag hotel at 7. Going downstairs, ready for breakfast at 6, we found the restaurant closed and no one stirring. We were the only customers, remember. The night manager, who was sleeping just outside on the street with her children, arose and led us down the road to a noodle shop, where we were eaten for breakfast by hundreds of very smart and illusive mosquitoes. 

While sitting there at what was actually a very good breakfast, two trucks pulled up out-side and disgorged 60 or so soldiers in their two-tone green uniforms of the North. I had the silly feeling that I had been caught, and slunk down in the back of the car and slipped through their clutches. I felt better as we approached the mountain. 

One look at the initial climb, however, and I knew that I was in deep trouble. Now I know how the VC held out there for all those years. It is very steep. About half of its 3,000 ft is 45 to 50 degrees and the rest is at least 60? There are no steps, no smooth trail, not even a decent elevator. It is a pile of big rocks. Every step is a climb up a bolder, bulling one's self up with arms, vines, and in one place, a rope. I took a look and announced that I had revised my goal yet again, and intended to climb only 10 meters above the pagoda. That 10 took more out of me than I expected, but renewed my resolve for another 10 meters only, and another, and another.

Meet the Woman on the Mountain