summer
has ended --
what are they to you, these people
in the dragon’s belly?
More
than once, I was invited to have supper with a South
Vietnamese family. The families I dined with were not rich.
Most barely eked out a living. The meals they served my
friends and I, however, were second to none, usually
consisting of rice, shrimp, a kale -like vegetable, and
dessert. The meals were delicious and abundant. Better than
the food, however, was the hospitality. Our hosts treated us
like visiting royalty, insisting we eat more, giving us the
best seats, continually asking us if we wanted refills for
our sodas. The South Vietnamese people are some of the
nicest, most considerate people on this planet.
The
Viet Cong were everywhere, especially in the Mekong Delta
region where I was stationed. Those who offered hospitality
to American servicemen, paid a high price for their
generosity. Sooner or later, they would be tortured, killed,
or forced to serve as spies by the VC. The Communists were
merciless with those who sympathized with the American war
effort. I have seen their handiwork first hand. Backs with
burn marks and horrible bruises. Backs that had been
brutally beat. And that wasn’t the worst. Our guests gave
to us and asked for nothing in return. Never once did they
pump us for information. They gave because that was who they
were...generous, giving people. We, supposedly, were in
South Vietnam to help and protect the people from the evils
of Communism. Our presence in the war gave many a false
hope. A hope for a day when they too could be free from war
and poverty.
The
United States left Vietnam in 1975, withdrawing from a war
that claimed an excessive amount of human lives. The
Republic of South Vietnam’s government was toppled
instantaneously by the North Vietnamese armed forces. What
happened next to those who helped the American war effort
was not a pretty scene. Thousands were killed. Thousands
were tortured. Others were forced to attend re-education
camps. A Vietnamese friend of mine who later managed to
escape from Vietnam as a boat person with his extended
family, told me of former South Vietnamese policemen who
were tied spread eagle in his village’s square and
hideously tortured as an example for all to see.
Do
we who served in the Vietnam War ever think about our
hosts today? Are we concerned about the welfare of the
Vietnamese people we were formerly charged to protect?
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