I wanted to share an experience from a recent trip to Vietnam. Hope you enjoy the read.
This year’s visit to Vietnam took an unexpected journey when I visited the Vietnam War Remnant Museum in Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon). To this day, the Vietnam War is one of the most fascinating historical periods for me to study, but this time I saw the perspective from the other side, not through American history books and propaganda narratives.
I traveled to the country again for work, where I am leading a project between the US and Vietnam to help them improve their meteorological infrastructure for aviation safety.
However, this Veteran’s Day, I honor both the United States and Vietnamese soldiers caught in the crosshairs of political ambition at the cost of millions of lives and traumatic effects. I toured the museum with a Vietnamese citizen whose father served in North Vietnam and a White man who learned the history of the war through American history books. Two sons of former soldiers from different parts of the world walk into the War Crimes exhibit, where images of American soldiers carried out malicious acts against the citizens of Vietnam. But it wasn’t enough to see the atrocities. The reality was that my father was a Black American man drafted into a war that had nothing to do with him. American history books teach us that this was a fight against communism —was it really the truth?
For an entire week, I met with Vietnamese leadership to discuss how we can continue this essential project and build a system they can use operationally. I broke bread with them, learned deeply about their culture, and ran 5 miles through Phu Quoc Island, where people live their daily lives. Yet, I stood in that exhibition looking at pictures of mutilated bodies, tortured Vietnamese citizens, and the weapons used against them. My Vietnamese colleague was telling me how scared his father was that he was going to be born disfigured due to the usage of Agent Orange, a deadly chemical used in that war, where the aftereffects caused a variety of cancers and congenital disabilities. Even US soldiers were collateral damage from the chemical.
The reason I mention race and ethnicity is that the three of us were the representation of that war. The Black American soldiers drafted were fighting two battles: against US citizens and the government that didn’t want them to have equal rights, and a war that the US government told us was a fight against communism. My father was one of many Black men subjected to these conflicts. However, I hear my Vietnamese colleague's side, and I get to see their truth behind the war, while my White colleague's entire perception of what he thought he knew is forever altered.
Propaganda signs in Saigon and throughout South Vietnam said, “U.S. Negro Armymen, you are committing the same ignominious crimes in South Vietnam that the KKK clique is perpetrating against your family at home.” But this wasn’t propaganda. This was the truth. We all know America’s history towards its Black citizens, so there is no need to pretend that it didn’t exist.
As my Vietnamese colleague tells me about his father’s side, I discuss my father’s side with him. I mentioned to him about Muhammad Ali’s great quote, “No Vietcong ever called me ni**er,” it was a perspective he had never known about—a perspective that showed the complicated nature of this war and why we should have never been there. And as we conversed, my White colleague continued to look at the exhibits and wondered if any American leaders were charged with these war crimes against the Vietnamese citizens. Pictures of dead men, women, and children served as a sobering moment for all of us. We left that exhibit speechless.
Two guys, whose fathers were once enemies, produced sons who, 50 years later, work together as colleagues. We all developed a better understanding of each other and what we thought we knew. This Veteran’s Day post honors the soldiers on both lines. My father, my Vietnamese colleague’s father, and everyone who fought a meaningless war. As Edwin Starr said, “War, what is it good for? Absolutely nothing.”
This year’s visit to Vietnam took an unexpected journey when I visited the Vietnam War Remnant Museum in Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon). To this day, the Vietnam War is one of the most fascinating historical periods for me to study, but this time I saw the perspective from the other side, not through American history books and propaganda narratives.
I traveled to the country again for work, where I am leading a project between the US and Vietnam to help them improve their meteorological infrastructure for aviation safety.
However, this Veteran’s Day, I honor both the United States and Vietnamese soldiers caught in the crosshairs of political ambition at the cost of millions of lives and traumatic effects. I toured the museum with a Vietnamese citizen whose father served in North Vietnam and a White man who learned the history of the war through American history books. Two sons of former soldiers from different parts of the world walk into the War Crimes exhibit, where images of American soldiers carried out malicious acts against the citizens of Vietnam. But it wasn’t enough to see the atrocities. The reality was that my father was a Black American man drafted into a war that had nothing to do with him. American history books teach us that this was a fight against communism —was it really the truth?
For an entire week, I met with Vietnamese leadership to discuss how we can continue this essential project and build a system they can use operationally. I broke bread with them, learned deeply about their culture, and ran 5 miles through Phu Quoc Island, where people live their daily lives. Yet, I stood in that exhibition looking at pictures of mutilated bodies, tortured Vietnamese citizens, and the weapons used against them. My Vietnamese colleague was telling me how scared his father was that he was going to be born disfigured due to the usage of Agent Orange, a deadly chemical used in that war, where the aftereffects caused a variety of cancers and congenital disabilities. Even US soldiers were collateral damage from the chemical.
The reason I mention race and ethnicity is that the three of us were the representation of that war. The Black American soldiers drafted were fighting two battles: against US citizens and the government that didn’t want them to have equal rights, and a war that the US government told us was a fight against communism. My father was one of many Black men subjected to these conflicts. However, I hear my Vietnamese colleague's side, and I get to see their truth behind the war, while my White colleague's entire perception of what he thought he knew is forever altered.
Propaganda signs in Saigon and throughout South Vietnam said, “U.S. Negro Armymen, you are committing the same ignominious crimes in South Vietnam that the KKK clique is perpetrating against your family at home.” But this wasn’t propaganda. This was the truth. We all know America’s history towards its Black citizens, so there is no need to pretend that it didn’t exist.
As my Vietnamese colleague tells me about his father’s side, I discuss my father’s side with him. I mentioned to him about Muhammad Ali’s great quote, “No Vietcong ever called me ni**er,” it was a perspective he had never known about—a perspective that showed the complicated nature of this war and why we should have never been there. And as we conversed, my White colleague continued to look at the exhibits and wondered if any American leaders were charged with these war crimes against the Vietnamese citizens. Pictures of dead men, women, and children served as a sobering moment for all of us. We left that exhibit speechless.
Two guys, whose fathers were once enemies, produced sons who, 50 years later, work together as colleagues. We all developed a better understanding of each other and what we thought we knew. This Veteran’s Day post honors the soldiers on both lines. My father, my Vietnamese colleague’s father, and everyone who fought a meaningless war. As Edwin Starr said, “War, what is it good for? Absolutely nothing.”
