This book has attempted to give the veteran who is contemplating returning to Viet Nam an idea of what they could expect and how they might prepare for their journey, whether it be a pilgrimage or simply a holiday visit as a tourist, and has shared some insights and recommendations from those who have been there and done it.
Whether or not pilgrimages to Viet Nam can and will continue is something only time will tell. Garry Adams took an optimistic view, remarking: ‘Hopefully as time comes to pass there will be more and more young ones coming to have a look at the places where their fathers fought.’1
Not all veterans who return to Viet Nam find it a positive experience. Those who visit hoping to see familiar sights and well-known ground in order to confirm their memories are often bitterly disappointed. Few signs of the Australian presence remain. The Task Force base at Nui Dat was stripped of all remaining materials by locals shortly after the Australians withdrew. The remaining concrete strip of the former Luscombe Field is now a street surrounded by local dwellings. At the site of the former logistics base at Vung Tau there are few signs of the Badcoe Recreation club, where Australian soldiers spent their time recovering from injury and illness. Much of the countryside they spent so much time patrolling has also changed—now developed in a variety of ways.
For those seeking to make sense of the chaos of their memories, not being able to see the ground as it was then only adds to their sense of confusion. Not being able to find visual signs of their presence can also make some veterans feel as if their efforts were in vain. For others, though, the lack of war remnants is a positive sign. They see that the country has moved on and are happy that the country and its people, in the south at least, appear to be thriving. Relatives of veterans also have varying reactions to their visits. Those who travelled in the 1980s and early 90s often found travel in Viet Nam difficult and uncomfortable, and Viet Nam was not a place to which they would readily return. Most have been happy, though, to be able to provide emotional support when it was needed, and have found the trip worthwhile.
On 21 May 1970, a young Australian soldier, Assault Pioneer Graham Edwards, stepped on a mine in South Viet Nam. Many of the so-called ‘Jumping Jack’ M-16 mines deployed by the Viet Cong against South Vietnamese and Allied soldiers had been lifted from the Australians’ own barrier minefield, and were causing widespread death and injury. Pioneer Edwards survived the blast, but with both legs amputated he now relies on a wheelchair for mobility. In May 1990, twenty years after that blast, Graham Edwards, who was by then a Western Australian Member of the Legislative Assembly, went back to Viet Nam. His aim in returning was, in his words, ‘to sort out the ghosts’. With the aid of a former Viet Cong platoon commander, Edwards was able to locate the site of the explosion which changed his life. Having confronted his ghosts he returned to Australia, determined to help the disabled and other Viet Nam veterans. As a federal Member of Parliament Graham Edwards has been able to fulfil his goals.
There are many stories like that of Graham Edwards. Paul Murphy was another veteran who went back to Viet Nam in 1990; he was so shocked by the poverty he found there that he vowed to return and help in some way. Four years later he went back to Viet Nam, signed a memorandum of understanding with the local government, and formed the Australian Veterans Vietnam Reconstruction Group (AVVRG). The group has since undertaken numerous projects to help the people of the former Phuoc Tuy Province, raising well over a million dollars in aid in the last ten years. As well, the AVVRG has been responsible for the recent refurbishment of the Long Tan Memorial Cross site.2
In 1996, veterans’ pilgrimages to Viet Nam entered the public sphere. In August that year a group of veterans and widows, accompanied by the Deputy Prime Minister, Tim Fischer, and the Minister for Veterans Affairs, Bruce Scott, participated in an official pilgrimage to Viet Nam to mark the thirtieth anniversary of the battle of Long Tan. I was the official historian on that trip, standing in for the then seriously ill historian, the late Ian McNeill. Although time was given for personal remembrance and commemoration, especially at Terandak Military Cemetery in Malaysia, formal ceremonies at various locations set the tone for the tour.
The visit was seen as highly significant for the development of the relationship between Australia and Viet Nam and was promoted as a sign that both sides had moved on from the past. While recognising this, during a speech at Nui Dat Tim Fischer conceded: ‘We must acknowledge that Vietnam is still recent history. And if past enmities have died, for many on both sides the scars understandably remain.’3
Long Tan survivor Jim Richmond faced his own ghosts during the tour when he presented a commemorative plaque to another Long Tan survivor, from the other side. He saw the pilgrimage as a chance for reconciliation. ‘It doesn’t really matter now,’ he said beforehand. ‘What happened, happened. If there was a bloke from Long Tan [there] I’d have a beer with him, ex-soldier to ex-soldier.’4 Such sentiments are common among pilgrims, and are a sign that they are coming to terms with their Viet Nam experience.
Historian Libby Stewart tackled the issue of the future of pilgrimages to Viet Nam. She said in an address to the University of Newcastle:
It is possible that they will start to wane as veterans become too old to travel. The lack of war graves means that the children of veterans won’t have a particular point of reference for their travels, and the changed landscape means that their father’s descriptions will mean little to them. Despite these things, I don’t believe that Viet Nam will cease to be a place of remembrance for Australians. As we achieve a greater understanding of that war and what it meant for its veterans, the impulses that have sent Australians all over the world to pay tribute to Australian war dead will continue to extend to Viet Nam.5
Garry Adams agrees, noting that there is a growing interest among young Australians about our involvement in the war. Each year he sees more of them making the effort to participate in important events held on Anzac Day and Viet Nam Veterans Day at the Long Tan Memorial Cross.
Perhaps their initial rejection by society has created a greater need among Viet Nam veterans to return to their battlefields and ensure that the dead are remembered. Their children will no doubt continue this legacy.