By Mike Nardotti

Reflections on a Trip to Cambodia and Vietnam – 50 Years After the War

     Cambodia and Vietnam are beautiful countries.  Both are fascinating.  Both are well worth the visit. 

     For me, though, there was a unique sadness in the visit to Cambodia.  The Cambodians we met were wonderful – without exception warm and friendly.  All the more reason to be shocked and saddened by the experience of the people of that country almost fifty years ago after the US left Vietnam.  Those gentle souls were subjected to the worst genocide of the second half of the Twentieth Century – through the unspeakable evil of the Communist government of Pol Pot – the Khmer Rouge – which took control of the country in 1975.  We saw the evidence of that tragedy when we visited the “Genocidal Center” near Phnom Penh – one of the better known of the approximately three hundred “Killing Fields” in Cambodia.

The bodies of almost 9,000 victims were exhumed at this site – a fraction of the estimated one and one-half to three million Cambodians who died at the hands of Pol Pot’s regime. 

That was about twenty-five percent of the population at the time.   One of our local guides was personally touched by that tragedy.  He never knew his grandparents who were murdered by the Khmer Rouge.

     The sadness of that visit, however, did not overtake our trip.  When we traveled north, we visited several extraordinary historical sites.  The most impressive of these to me was Angkor Wat – the astonishing Hindu-Buddhist temple complex.  I still have difficulty conceiving how – eight hundred years ago – well before the age of machines – those Cambodian ancestors were able to lift, move, and assemble millions of tons of sandstone blocks (from 25 miles away) into such remarkable structures.  We were told it took six thousand slaves and three thousand elephants.  Even that doesn’t seem enough!  The walls include meticulously carved reliefs illustrating scenes for Indian literature.  Truly extraordinary – well beyond a surprise!

     Cambodia today, though, is “on the way” to thriving.  I say “on the way” because its neighbor, Vietnam, is clearly thriving.  Cambodia is working hard to catch up.  The population today is close to 17 million.  They are clearly on the upswing. 

     Vietnam was a different story economically – and a surprise.  The socialist/communist government tried collectivization for a number of years following the end of the war with the US.  Ultimately, they jettisoned that approach in favor of a market economy.  Saigon (I still can’t bring myself to say “Ho Chi Minh City”) and Hanoi are booming! 

     Given the regional challenges posed by a bullying China, Vietnam has wisely sought to develop better relations with the US.  That is certainly evident in their approach to tourism.  It seemed to me that our Vietnamese tour guides were exceptionally attentive to US sensibilities.   When we toured war museums, we were politely cautioned that the displays were from the Vietnamese perspectives on the “American” War – just one of a number that the Vietnamese have fought against outsiders.  Even during our visit to the “Hanoi Hilton”, where the late Senator and Presidential Candidate John McCain was imprisoned, we saw evident changes.  Previously, his cell as a prisoner had been preserved as an exhibit.  Although there are photos of then-Lieutenant Commander McCain as a POW, the cell exhibit is gone.  Perhaps, Vietnamese officials felt that the photos alone were sufficient.   There was no reason – given the improving relations with the US – to “put a finger in the eye of the US” with the cell exhibit. 

     Two other surprises to note.  I expected to see at least some subtle government effort to suppress religion – particularly Catholicism.  While there are clearly limits, it appears that the Church in Vietnam is healthy and perhaps even growing.  The Notre Dame Cathedral Basilica of Saigon, established by French colonists in the nineteenth century – now officially known as the Cathedral Basilica of Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception – is currently undergoing renovations unimpeded.  That was an unexpected surprise.

     One final unexpected surprise was a humorous and honest observation about politics by one of our guides.  He said, “We have elections every five years – just for laughs – forty candidates – no choices”! 

     Finally – the smiles – there were plenty of them!  While the Cambodians seemed to be a bit shy about being photographed, the Vietnamese seemed to enjoy the opportunities, especially when we asked to be photographed with them.  My only regret is not getting some email or other addresses to send the photos to them.  I’m sure they would produce even more smiles!

Smiles of the Vietnamese People

      In all respects, it is was a truly worthwhile experience.

     The year just past – 2023 – marked fifty years since the official end of the Vietnam War for America.  For many who served – including me – the Fifty-Year Commemoration invoked any number of memories.  Please bear with me as I share a few.

     My tour of duty in Vietnam was cut short when I failed to duck fast enough and low enough and was wounded in action.  I prayed for help, but the Good Lord was ahead of me.  He already had seventeen Guardian Angels on the ground with me – the very young Enlisted Soldiers of my platoon – all between seventeen and nineteen years old.  They saved my life by enabling my safe medical evacuation.  My respect and gratitude for Enlisted Soldiers is without limit.

     After surgery and some recovery time at the Army hospital at Long Binh, I was shipped with other patients on the way home to the Army hospital at Camp Zama, Japan.  The recovery period in Japan was an important transition time.  Immediately following our surgeries in Vietnam, many of us were on heavy pain-killers – morphine or other narcotics.  Our stay in Japan was the time to ease off those drugs in preparation for our return home. 

     At Camp Zama, I was in a mixed ward of about eight wounded Officers and Enlisted Soldiers.

About a week after I arrived, a young soldier – perhaps eighteen or nineteen years old – was carried in.  He had stepped on a land mine.  The booby trap had taken off his right foot. 

     Within a day after his arrival, his condition became extremely serious when an artery opened near the wound and he was losing blood quickly.  An Army doctor and a nurse came to his bedside immediately to stop the bleeding.  As they began to work, the soldier’s pain dramatically increased.  He cried – and then screamed loudly.  As I recall, they didn’t give him any painkillers.  Perhaps it was because he was transitioning off narcotics – or perhaps the drugs would have aggravated the bleeding – or more likely because there wasn’t time given how much and how fast he was losing blood.

     In the midst of the now very loud and continuous crying and screaming, the doctor and nurse remained focused, stopped the bleeding, and saved that soldier’s life.  He could have died right before our eyes.

     The next day, after he had rested and recovered from the pain of the day before, that young soldier did something I will never forget.  He asked the nurse for a crutch, and he got out of his bed.  Then he carefully hobbled around to each of us in the ward – to apologize – for not “keeping it together” – for not handling his pain in a better way.  All of us were stunned.  We were almost in tears when he went through his excruciatingly painful ordeal – and now, almost in tears again, at this soldier’s humility.

     I learned two lessons from the events of those two days.  First, I could never be a doctor (or nurse) – certainly not an emergency room physician (or assisting nurse).  I understand, of course, these doctors and nurses train intensely to develop the skills needed to perform just such life-saving work.  But to be able to perform those tasks under conditions of extreme pain for the patient remains a wonder to me.  My respect and gratitude for such doctors and nurses also is without limit. 

     The second lesson I learned was from that young, seriously-wounded, soldier.  I suppose he believed we may have thought less of him because – in his eyes – he didn’t bear up well under his pain.  All of us in the ward knew, however, that had the situation been reversed, we would have screamed as loudly or more. 

     That soldier could have remained quietly in his bed for his remaining few days at Camp Zama without saying a word to any of us.  He would have moved on quickly along with the rest of us – far from the memories of that time.  Instead, he felt the need to come to each of us face-to-face – his fellow soldiers – to say, essentially, that he had “not measured-up” as a soldier and as a man.  He left us speechless.

      Courage comes in different forms.  It’s not just battlefield courage.  It took real courage for this young soldier to come to the rest of us in this way – in an extraordinary show of humility.  His actions were unnecessary, of course – but not without deep meaning and effect.  Would any of the rest of us have shown such humility and courage?

I’m certain the young soldier had no idea that anyone would remember – with respect and thanks for his humble and courageous actions – more than fifty years later.

      I still pray for him and all the others who served so many years ago.