Facing the Dragon - Chapter 10

Rising early, I have a nice breakfast this morning before making my way to the small village of My Lai to tour an area where one of the most tragic and well publicized Vietnam War atrocities took place. This was the site of the My Lai Massacre.

504 people were murdered here on March 16, 1968, by the infamous Charlie Company. 504 unarmed people from the My Lai village were massacred. The villagers did not have one gun amongst them. The majority of the people murdered were children and elders over 60 who were either too young or too old to fight. Seventeen of the women murdered were pregnant. The photos are horrifying. If I had been so cursed to be a part of Charlie Company on that fateful day, I don’t know if I would have been able to refrain from using my weapon on my own Lieutenant, if not myself. This was the mission of Lieutenant William Calley and the records show that he was personally responsible for 104 casualties. The history books may describe them as casualties, but what they really were was executions. As I stand and look at the mass grave where Calley’s victims lie, I can almost picture him gunning an elderly woman down as she runs out of her burning home.

I have read about My Lai and know some of the details but it is much different to actually walk through the area where tragic history unfolded so long ago. The impact is much greater.

It is hard to believe, but this operation was actually deemed a success and medals were awarded to those who participated in the attack. Needless to say, the facts were perused over in search of that one nugget of information that would somehow justify what was done in the interests of being optimistic and looking for the positives. That proved to be much easier than looking for the real truth and its consequences.

Well, it took time but the truth did come out and it hurt. It hurt badly.


It was suggested that the village of Son My, where the My Lai Massacre took place, was harboring some Viet Cong soldiers from the 48th battalion who participated in the Tet Offensive. However, the information that Charlie Company had was incorrect. Son My was filled with only civilians; civilians that would suffer horribly. I think that Neil Sheehan’s description in the book “A Bright Shining Lie” gives an accurate portrayal of what happened at Son My:

“The American soldiers and junior officers shot old men, women, boys, girls and babies. One soldier missed a baby lying on the ground twice with a .45 pistol as his comrades laughed at his marksmanship. He stood over the child and fired a third time. The soldiers beat women with rifle butts and raped some and sodomized others before shooting them. They shot the water buffalos, the pigs and the chickens. They threw the dead animals into the wells to poison the water. They tossed the satchel charges into the bomb shelters under the houses. A lot of the inhabitants had fled into the shelters. Those who leaped out to escape the explosives were gunned down. All of the houses were put to torch.”

One can only hope that they would be able to maintain some semblance of reason and humanity in a situation like the one described above instead of losing oneself in the moment like some of these soldiers did. One GI, actually the only GI that was injured in the battle, shot himself in the foot deliberately because he couldn’t bring himself to participate in the murderous orgy that was going on around him.

In the end, the 48th battalion never materialized and Son My merely offered a killing field for the frustrated Charlie Company. The soldiers were frustrated in their elusive search for the 48th battalion and were tired of facing injuries and casualties at the hands of snipers, booby traps and enemies they were rarely able to encounter face to face. This frustration led to anger and this anger led to the catastrophe that took place on March 16, 1968.

The military chain of command was able to suppress reports of the massacre and some publications, including the army newspaper Stars and Stripes and The New York Times, branded the mission a success. The awful truth didn’t come to light until November, 1969, through the efforts of a former GI, an investigative journalist and an army photographer. The grand total of the punishment for the 25 men charged with murder in this massacre amounted to 3 days of hard labor, only for Calley. Why 3 days? Because after 3 days, Richard Nixon intervened and commuted his sentence to 3 years of house arrest after which Calley was paroled. It sickens me deeply to think that Calley served a measly 3 years of house arrest when he was responsible for killing so many innocent people, many of them being children and babies and all of them having literally no means to defend themselves.

It is far too easy to dismiss Charlie Company as a freak occurrence. However, in reality, a situation like this was inevitable. The US war effort in Vietnam was based on unselective napalm and rocket attacks that were anything but accurate and did little to avoid civilians. Body counts were used as a barometer of US war success and this created a climate in which Vietnamese life was cheapened to such an extent that Vietnamese lives were valued not much more than that of a domestic house cat. In the end, if indiscriminate killing from the air was deemed acceptable, then random killing at close quarters was only taking this methodology one step further. Seeing this up close with my own eyes makes it even more disheartening to me when I hear the ridiculous false beliefs that many Americans hold to be true regarding the Vietnam War. With very few accurate historical contexts available and easily accessible, most of what people think happened is based on movies, albeit good ones, that really depict the Vietnamese as animals. Most of these films are told from a suffering American’s perspective when the suffering, by and large, was so much greater on the Vietnamese side. The reality is -- America eventually realized that they couldn’t win the war and they pulled out. Yes, they lost and that is a hard thing for many of my fellow comrades to accept. ‘Forgive, but don’t forget’ is a phrase that is listed in front of every holocaust memorial. It seems to me that this is how most Vietnamese people remember their war with America.

After leaving My Lai, we board the bus to make our short journey to Hoi An. As I sit on the bus silently and absorb the things I have just seen, I feel uncomfortable. My mind and body both feel unsettled. My mind is consumed with the horror of the My Lai massacre but my stomach is having a whole set of different issues. I have felt like shit since I woke up this morning. When I have encountered stomach problems in the past, the problems are usually related to too much system outflow. That hasn’t been the case in this instance though. I am constipated. In fact, I am constipated to the point where I no longer have the desire to eat. I have to combat things some way so I am now being stubborn about putting much of anything other than water into my body until something starts leaving it.

We are finally in Hoi An. The town seems a bit touristy but looks like a great spot for a well needed, relaxing break. After all, this town is considered to be one of Vietnam’s charms. It also appears to be shopping galore here with many shops offering tailoring services, lacquer ware and art.

Feeling the need to stretch my legs, my first agenda item is to walk down Tran Phu, one of the main streets in town and take in the atmosphere of this busy street. Employees of many of the shops that populate each side of this main thoroughfare walk out onto the street and ask me to come in and look at their merchandise. I can’t resist for long and soon find myself walking into one of many tailor shops, indiscriminate from each other, in this area. Perusing the shop looking at the different fabrics and materials that are available, I am assisted by a cute Vietnamese woman. She helps me select some designs and fabrics. One is a silk fabric I have picked with a summer shirt in mind, although the fabric appears to be more suited to a woman’s dress. Regardless, the black and white design with tiny crimson budding flowers is appealing to me. Fabrics in hand, the shop attendant and I sit down and look at a magazine that shows the different pant and shirt styles available. I am fitted for 2 short sleeve shirts and 2 pairs of pants. The women assisting me tend to my every need and tell me that they want me to join them for lunch tomorrow when I come back to pick up my clothes. These women are adorable and they endure themselves to me even more when they tell me that I am beautiful. I find it amusing that they use this term so freely.

As the day winds down, I walk back towards my hotel. Noticing an internet café and tour booking center nearby, I decide to check my email. I buy a bottle of water, sit down and log into a computer. As I check my email and do a bit of net surfing, the woman working in the shop begins to ask me some questions. She wants to know if I am interested in any tours and wants to know where I am from. We have a nice conversation and her 5 to 6 year old son takes much interest in me. He excitedly runs up to me and jumps on the chair next to me. This must be his usual spot as he seems comfortable. He begins playing a computer game. Eventually, he ends up on my lap as I try to teach him a few English words and phrases. We count to 30 together and he exhibits a strong command of some basic English words and phrases. It is obvious that he is being schooled in English. This woman and her son are kind, warm people.

I return to my room, still feeling less than ideal. Walking around in the hot sun and sweating like a pig hasn’t made me feel much better. It is a shame that I am not feeling well because tonight offers a fantastic opportunity to both cook and eat. We are having dinner at a restaurant where the patrons cook fresh food with the chef and then serve it to their entire dinner party.

The night is a fun one anyway. The cooking takes place in full view of the table in an open air environment. Despite the fact that my eating is restricted to one bite tastes, I walk away with some excellent Vietnamese recipes. I really enjoy making fresh spring rolls, cuttlefish salad, fish wrapped in banana leaves and baked bananas. I participate and make the most of the evening despite the way I am feeling.

Before bed, one of my travel companions hands me a supposedly “strong” sleeping pill. I am hopeful that this will help me get a good night of rest.