Yesterday I posted those pictures of rubble and destruction, to illustrate my point. In general, I want to cover tough subjects here but use happier pictures, even pretty ones if I can.
In that spirit I here are four photos from that same trip to Hanoi in 1973, following the Christmas bombing, so you can literally see another view.
These two pictures are from the Khan Tien Street neighborhood of Hanoi. It was flattened by our bombers on Christmas of 1972. Our military both denied bombing this residential area and also insisted that if they had, there must have been a military facility hidden there.
Anything could be true. The kids are smiling because while I knew better than to hand out candy, my idiotic magic tricks were a hit and needed no language ability.
You can see in the background of the second picture a newly-built memorial to the victims of the bombing. I had been invited to lay a wreath there. I said there were 2 conditions. One was that I pay for the wreath myself, as a sign of responsibility and respect. The other was - no photos of me doing so by my hosts, because I said honoring the dead would be tainted by using my presence for propaganda. My hosts were not amused and we argued for a long time. The problem was solved by their combining my visit to the memorial with that of folk singer Holly Near, who was in Hanoi at the same time. As the bona fide celeb, she attracted all the snapping of photos, while I hung with the street kids and did my stupid tricks, entirely unnoticed.
This next shot is of what I'd call a socialist parade. That's Ho Chi Minh in the framed picture at the head of the march. Hanoi at that time had Orwellian loudspeakers in many of the streets blaring marches and what sounded to me like exhortations and announcements. I just loved the Vietnamese people, of whatever politics, but the only place I fit in less well than a communist society is a communist society at war. My trips to Hanoi were accompanied by almost continual verbal pushing and shoving between me and my hosts; I honestly believe they knew I loved them, but was averse to their government, and so we worked on the disagreements and even had some fun.
To the left of this little girl you can see the one-person bomb shelters that lined the streets of beautiful Hanoi in those days. They were sections of concrete pipe, and the idea was when the bombs started you were to jump into the pipe for shelter. On this, my second trip to Hanoi in wartime, I pointed out to my minders that I couldn't help noticing the shelters were full of dirt. One of them said, we didn't plan well - they filled with water. The other added that besides, they had a lot of trouble with drunks falling into them at night since they didn't have the street lights on. Just when I despaired of the endless "correct line" and socialist jargon of my hosts, the young people guiding and watching me would say something totally off script. I loved those moments and they knew it.
