by Rae Murphy

10 cents
Rae Murphy. editor of the Canadian
Tribune. spent the last two weeks of
October in the Democratic Republic of
North Vietnam. This was the second time
in 22 months that he visited that wartorn
country. This pamphlet is a compilation
of his articles in the Canadian Tribune.
the first three were cabled from Hanoi.
the others written on his return to Can-
ada.
Rae Murphy was born 32 years ago in
the coal mining town of Blairmore. Al-
berta. Educated in Vancouver. he be-
came an electrician. and was at v,arious
times an active member of the Interna-
tional Brotherhood of Electrical Workers.
the United Electrical. Radio and Machine
Workers of America: Oil. Chemical and
Atomic Workers' International Union.
Before becoming editor of the Tribune
he worked for a number of years as the
secretary of the Young Communist
League. and as editor of the youth
magazine Scan.
Published by: Canadian Tribune, 924 King St.
W., Toronto 3, Ont., November, 1967.
Calamity has tempered and
hardened me,
And turned my mind into steel.
These lines are from a poem by
Ho Chi Minh, written as he languish-
ed in prison. In a very real sense they
sum up the feelings of the people in
Vietnam today.
The calamity they face is etched
in the shattered families, the broken
and twisted buildings built with so
much sacrifice and labor in that
period of hope, years ago now,
when they set on a new path of in-
dependence and national construc-
tion.
Of course these buildings will be
built again, bigger and more beau-
tiful, when the war is over. New
generations will heal the scars and
\ wounds of today. But now the hor-
ror of destruction has been brought
to every city and village in that
country.
But to see only this side of the
war, is to miss the real story of Viet-
nam today. Everywhere and every-
one I spoke to, from members of the
military and government to wait-
resses in my hotel, people young and
old, the feeling is always the same
-confidence and the sense of vic-
tory.
The confidence is based on the
tangible results of the air war in the
North and the ground war in the
South. They have fought the Ameri-
cans to an impasse.
Hanoi has changed in many ways
in the interval between my two
visits. There is a great deal of devas-
tation, but there is evident economic
stability, and there is a defensive
capacity that is unparalled.
North Vietnam will never be
"bombed to the conference table."
As the bombing increases and
war escalates the determination
grows and the country becomes
more united.
The issue of negotiations and
peace are stark and simple in Viet-
nam, and are not as complicated as
they are made to appear in the
West. There will be peace in the
North when the Americans stop
bombing. There will be no surrender
and there will be no blackmail.
When they say that they are pre-
pared to fight on for twenty more
years, they mean it. When they say
there is nothing more precious than
independence, they mean it. They
have tested independence and they
have tasted war. They know of what
reprinted in this
pamphlet, I have not attempted any
analysis of the war. I am not an his-
torian, economist or military expert.
I have merely tried to present my
impressions of Vietnam last Oc-
tober, and convey my feelings as I
observed these heroic people and
stood with them as they faced the
air onslaught. during one brief pe-
riod of the war.
I identify myself completely with
the struggle of the Vietnamese, and
I hope this feeling is conveyed in
these articles. In a different context,
the words of another poem by Ho
Chi Minh express many of my
thoughts.
On the crest of the Western
mountains, my heart stirs as
I wander
Looking towards the Southern
sky and dreaming of old
friends.
THE
CITY LIVES
T
HE Red River, swollen with
the" fall Monsoon, is an im-
posing sight as we cross
from Gia Liam into Hanoi pro-
per. A huge steel and concrete
bridge spans the river at this
point - here is the lifeline be-
tween Hanoi and the North. The
bridge was largely destroyed on
August I I th but was put back
into service at the end of Sep-
tember by that indescribable
combination of engineering
magic, determination and sheer
backbreaking toil that has con-
founded the American military
strategists since they first at-
tacked the Vietnamese.
The long Bwen bridge, which
was built around the beginning
of the century and originally
named after a French governor,
Paul Douner, has probably al-
ways been everybody's first im-
pression of Hanoi. It has a two
lane road and a railway track
running down the middle. As I
passed over it last night, I was
part of an endless convoy mov-
ing in each direction. It now ap-
pears to be hung together with
wooden planks, wire, and all
shapes of nuts and bolts. Al-
though the bridge creaks and
groans with every passing ve-
hicle, it functions and it has
proved indestructable.
North Vietnam is a land of
bridges that cannot be de-
stroyed. Because the Vietnamese
refuse to see their country
severed, there are suspension
bridges that allow heavy trucks
to pass and are then rolled up
and put away during the day-
light hours, and there are pon-
toon bridges. When all else gives
way, there are barges but the
goods are delivered.
This night, as our car made
its way along the darkened
streets approaching the bridge,
I could see the hollow structures
that were once apartments. I
also saw the locomotive repair
shops which are now completely
destroyed. In North Vietnam to-
day there is not one factory or
workshop that has not been at
least partially destroyed. There
is a lot of rubble here that re-
presents the dreams and sacri-
fice of the Vietnamese workers.
Yet one can see at every corner
workers huddled around oil
lamps repairing bicycles and
trucks, and through open store
fronts one can also see young
women having their hair done.
It is war, but it is also Vietnam.
The permanent wave is replacing
the beautiful long black braids.
My hosts inquired about the
health of Tim Buck. I said he ap-
5
peared to be in better health
each day. "It is the same with
President Ho," one answered,
"but he is very busy now. Just
last week a battalion of veteran
guerrilla fighters, the youngest
of whom is sixty-five, shot down
an American aircraft with rifle
and machine-gun fire. Comrade
Ho visited them to offer his con-
gratulations. It is wonderful
these days, the older one gets,
the more determined he be-
comes."
To my right a group of young
men and women painfully lift a
railway track into place and our
car lurches forward over the
bridge to Hanoi.
They say in Canada that
Hanoi itself has not been bom-
bed, only the suburbs. This
would be quite true if one were
to consider Toronto proper to be
Queen and Yonge and that To-
ronto's City Hall were to be con-
sidered part of the suburbs. I
have seen much destruction in
Hanoi, including the wreckage of
the eye and ear hospital which
adjoins the Catholic cathedral.
By daylight the city looks al-
most at peace. Hanoi has not
been bombed since late August.
The movies and theatres operate
as usual. In spite of all, there
have been bumper harvests for
the last two years, and the lights
in the city are on-the voltage is
somewhat irregular but they are
on and the city lives.
Haiphong is the target now. I
was told the workers face air-
raids day and night. They must
sleep, work and defend them-
selves. The constant bombings
are causing serious problems.
But in Haiphong, as in the rest
of North Vietnam, the Ameri-
cans have not suceeded in either
destroying communications, halt-
6
ing production, or in terrorizing
the people. After twenty-four
hours in Vietnam I believe this,
but I will not write about things
I have not yet seen. I have been
promised a trip to Haiphong al-
though the travelling conditions
are difficult.
Across the street from my
hotel there are a few weaving
machines. All the existing fac-
tories in North Vietnam have
been dispersed-and these ma-
chines work around the clock.
At the same time a large bomb
shelter is being dug around the
machines, so they can be moved
again, underground.
But that is another story in
itself.
Workers repairing Long Bien
bridge.

AWESOME
SPECTACLE

utes ago discussing how it has
been found necessary to teach
the militia a few words in Eng-
lish. Words such as "hands up,"
"surrender" and "f or war d
march." The subject came up in
the interval between raids when
word reached us that one down-
ed pilot was discovered in the
West Lake and hundreds of peo-
pIe were converging on the scene.
Actually the problem of cap-
tured pilots is not an easy ques-
tion here. Great care is taken to
ensure the safety of these pilots
and this entails sometimes much
persuasion with people, especial-
ly in the vIllages, to see that the
Americans are looked after and
brought to the military for ques-
tioning.
Ye3terday eight planes were
downed in Hanoi and today so
far five. I have seen two come
down myself. This is indicative
of the situation here. The city
has been pounded for two days
now. at the suburbs but the
downtown area. The first day
the main bridge was put out of
operation and today the power
plant has been damaged but the
city is still supplied and most
plants and institutions are equip-
ped with auxiliary units. The
bridge is again closed but the
workers are repairing it.
I have been in Haiphong dur-
ing several attacks and now I
have witnessed several serious
bcmbardments here. They ,re :m
awesome and serious :>pectacle
en all counts. For the most part
the Americans strike at popul-
ated areas. On the first day of
the bombardment here the Lake
of the Restored Sword was the
centre which is roughly compar-
able to attacking Toronto by
centering the raid on Centre
Island. Today the area around
the power station was hit, and
with the beautiful sunny and
clear weather everybody is ab-
solutely certain they will be
back later.
The bombs that have been
dropped on Hanoi so far are of
three types, explosive, time
bombs and anti-personnel. By far
the most used are the time and
anti-personnel. Thus after a raid
is over visible damage appears
quite light and I have seen
places where merely superficial
chip marks in the concrete show
where bloody carnage took
place. The pellet bombs are ex-
tremely dangerous and have the
effect of thousands of rifle bul-
lets fired in all directions.
The time bombs are also a
deadly weapon. They are set to
explode either within minutes,
7
hours or days after impact and
they make rescue operations
next to impossible. Such bombs
are also in essence anti-person-
nel.
The bombing is directed
against the people, not as John-
son has often said against "steel
ano concrete." Steel and con-
crete are impervious to the pel-
let bombs, but they tear the ;1esh
and organs of the human body.
That also I have seen.
The main impression l,owever
one has of the air raids is the
reaction of the people. Within
minutes after the all-clear signal
the lineups form at the movies
and the flower shops open. The
gladiolas are in bloom now :md
the profusion of colors is in-
describable. Perhaps they are
more of an emotional experience
than visual one. There can be no
mistake about it: the raids dis-
rupt all aspects of life here, but
the main point is that the city
lives, and I believe shall live
forever.
The spirit of Hanoi, or the spi-
rit cf Haiphong is confident and
serene. This infects all the fore-
igners here. There is no anti-
Americanism among the people
and there is no militarism. I

have found myself stopping on

several occassions to witness
and woncer 'It ,his fact.
The confidence (hat oermeates
the atmosphere is based now ,)n
the prcven ability of the city to
defend itself. The artillery mis-
siles and the new orth Viet-
namese Air Force defend 'chis
city and its population. The real
proof of this is the manner of
the American attack. The mighty
American airforce cannot now
sustain an attack on both Hanoi
and Haiphong at the same time.
Last week Haiphong was under
the hammer, now it is Hanoi.
While it is clear here that John-
s::n has escalated the war again,
the unanimous feeling is that it
is an act of desperation. I was
having a drink with a friend
when the warning signal was
heard and he said: "My God
Dean Rusk must have made an
appeal for peace." The girl who
was serving us :mswered:
"These raids in the North only
mean our brothers in the South
are scoring victories."
Whatever the raids mean, the
bombing will never defeat North
Vietnam, although suffering,
death and destruction surrounds
us .
AWAR
FOR LIFE
IN1 ~ E c ; ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ a r s E ~ ~ r ~ :
dreamed she gave birth to a
child. The child was sleeping on
a lotus leaf. The Emperor as he
heard of his wife's dream, or-
dered the construction of a
beautiful pagoda - the Pagoda
of One Column. Today this fam-
QUS pagoda stands as it did then,
in a small pool of lotus flowers
surrounded by banana and the
delicate filao tree.
It is not the original pagoda.
As the last missionaries of west-
ern culture and civilization to
visit this land withdrew, they
dynamited the original shrine.
Today the role of the French has
been usurped by the Americans,
and each day the Vietnamese
prepare to receive their bombs
from the sky. Thus not far from
the pagoda, on the shores of the
city's West Lake, the mobile
anti-aircraft units are being set
up. In the quiet warmth of the
late afternoon we make our way
to the lake.
The park that adjoins the lake
is called Youth Park. I am told
it was named this for two reas-
ons: it was the young people of
Hanoi who built the park and it
is also the favorite place for
young Vietnamese couples to sit
and spend their evenings. The
park that afternoon presented a
strange scene but one that can
give an insight into this city and
the war its people are fighting.
On every bench sat a young
couple, arms about each other,
looking out over the water; per-
haps watching the several small
sampans fishing on the quiet
lake. Perhaps they weren't
watching the fishermen, but they
were oblivious to the hurried
movements of the army around
them, as temporary communica-
tion lines were being strung and
the sophisticated anti-aircraft
weapons were brought into
place. On the opposite side of
the road, other citizens sat
around outdoor tables drinking
beer and lemonade, eating ban
tom, (shrimp rolled with spices
in a bean cake patty and deep
fried). At times the noise from
the laughter at the buffet ap-
peared to drown out'the rumble
of the convoy of half-trackers
and troop carriers.
The war in Vietnam is a war
for life, and the people seem in-
tent on living and enjoying life
as they can; at the same time
they fight. I have been told by
people who know, that Hanoi is
now protected with a ring of
concentrated tire power that sur-
passes the defences of Moscow
in 1941. One can see this every-
where and that which one can't
9
see is no doubt the most impres-
sive. The Americans are paying
a high price in their attempts to
destroy this city and kill its
people.
I have now met a few of these
people.
Hoag Lien, is a heart doctor
who seems to be scarcely into
her thirties, but who fought
against the French and whose
home city is Dalat in the south.
"Dalat is three times as beautiful
as Hanoi, but I haven't seen it
for over 20 years. My parents
are there and so is a sister, but
of course I haven't been in con-
tact with them. Not even a pic-
ture." Hoag Lien, which means
yellow lotus, has three sons stu-
dying in different schools, all
evacuated, and her husband is in
the south fighting somewhere.
She fondles a little child whom
she looks after while the girl's
mother works. "Life seems
empty for me with my family
away, but there is my work and
I keep busy."
I asked when she thinks the
war will end. She merely shrugs
- "maybe five, maybe seven
years. I think longer though."
We talk of wages, rents and
rations. President Ho is the high-
est paid citizen-240 dong each
month. One dong is roughly 30
cents and rents are fixed at one
percent of wages.
"You mean President Ho only
pays about two and a half dong
rent for that palace in which he
lives ... pretty cheap rent" I
say. She laughs: "I pay one dong
for my quarters. That's cheap
also." Clothing, rice and meat
are rationed here. Eggs and
fruit among other staples are
not. The quantity of rations vary
according to age, and occupation
and seem quite enough. Most of
10
the agriculture is organized in
cooperatives and there are mar-
kets where the farmers can sell
their surplus produce without
regard to ration restrictions. No-
body I spoke to could recall the
price of rice on the free market,
which is a further indication that
the ration of food staples are
adequate.
My discussion with Hoag Lien
drifts on until she says she must
take the child home to her empty
house.
The girl who serves my table
has a beautiful oval face, with
almond eyes; perhaps she weighs
eighty pounds soaking wet. This
morning with others of the hotel,
she was practicing rifle firing in
the courtyard behind the building.
She picked up her rifle, rested
herself on the ground and fired
three shots in rapid succession
at a target about one hundred
yards away. The first shot was
erratic, but the other two came
close to the mark. Later I of-
fered my congratulations.
"1 am a poor shot, my friends
are much better," she said. "I
serve the revolution mainly by
serving guests at the hotel. In
Vietnam, everyone's work is im-
portant."
There are two wars in Viet-
nam. There is the air war here,
which I was reminded of as I
was interviewing somebody here
to the accompanyment of the
sound of bombs and artillery
about ten miles away, and there
is the air and land war in the
south.
I have had a long and interest-
ing discussion with the head of
the South Vietnam Liberation
Front mission in Hanoi. He
spoke mainly of the struggle in
the south in relation to its politi-
cal and military aspects. The NLF
recently held a congress which
Murphy examining a bombed
building in Haiphong.
adopted a new political program.
This remarkable document is
beamed in particular to the city
dwellers in the south, the work-
ers in the first place but also
great attention is placed on the
middle strata in the urban areas.
I was told that in the few weeks
since the program has been in
circulation a sensation has been
caused, and many overtures to-
wards national reconciliation are
being carefully tended. As all
vestiges of authority of the pup-
pet regime crumble, the political
struggle will grow and assume
immediate importance.
The military situation is more
complex. The NLF has grown
stronger and has the initiative on
the battlefield, although Ameri-
can fire power and tactical mo-
bility is an awesome force. The
Americans, being forced on the
defensive, cannot police the
countryside. They are forced to
commit many of the mistakes
made by the French. One can
still see, all over the north, the
French pill-boxes and defensive
positions. These monuments to
military futility are well con-
structed. ever-the-less the
weeds and trees are forcing the
brickwork to crumble. In their
own way they look like shrines
to forgotten religions.
I was told to be careful draw-
ing too many analogies between
the French and Americans. Ame-
ricans control the air; their sav-
age use of defoliants and toxic
chemicals and their mobility are
made possible by the helicopter.
I was also told on several occa-
sions that the Americans don't
fight like the French did either.
The French had roots in Viet-
nam that went back over one
hundred years. They knew Viet-
nam and they knew the Viet-
namese; they especially knew
how the Vietnamese fought and
many of the French fought to
keep something they felt was
theirs. This is not so with U.S.
soldiers who know nothing about
Vietnam and really care only to
get home alive. This naturally
saps the morale.
I asked about possible nego-
tiations and used the term, "face
savers." My friend just smiled
and said, "there will be a time
for such things, but the Ameri-
can's know they still have many
cards to play."
On my mind constantly are
the prospects for peace. I am
sure it is on the minds of most
of you who read this. The an-
swer to that question however
does not lie in Vietnam but rath-
erin Washington.

11
AHERO
OF VIETNAM

village was first attacked
by planes from the 7th fleet. She
was 17 then, living with her par-
ents in the small coastal village
of Don Hoi in Quan Binh prov-
ince. Her parents were fisher-
men and she would help them
each morning as they set out in
their small home-built craft to
fish the bays and inlets along
the rugged coast.
Prior to the bombings, Don
Hoi was a new village in the
sense that over 90 percent of the
homes were built of brick and a
new economy was being deve-
loped to supplement the fishing
cooperative. A small mat weav-
ing factory was in operation and
the villagers were building beds
for the extraction of salt from
the ocean. Aside from working
with her parents, Thi Ly worked
in the mat weaving factory and
in her spare time she trained
with the local militia preparing
for the day the bombs would fall.
She said she was too small
then to carry a gun and was a
liason girl. Her duty was to car-
ry messages from one defensive
position to another and from one
village to the other. With the
first American air attack on
North Vietnam, Thi Ly's work
began and, along with every
J
single man, woman and child in
Quan Binh province, her life was
changed.
For over three years now her
village has been pounded daily
by air, from artillery fire, from
hovering crusiers of the 7th
fleet and now napalm, phosper-
ous bombs and defoliants. There
is not a single building standing
in the village, and this holds true
for just about every other vil-
lage in the province. It has been
estimated that there have been
four tons of bombs dropped for
every square kilometer in Quang
Binh, or one ton for every man,
woman and child.
During this whole period the
people have fought back, not
only in the military defensive
sense of manning anti-aircraft,
emplacements, building bomb-
shelters and living facilities un-
derground, but also in maintain-
ing the economy. The fishing
continues, at night now, and
towards dawn the small boats
are sunk in shallow water only
to be brought to surface the next
evening and made sea-worthy
again. The salt extraction pro-
cess continues, the school func-
tions and somehow life goes on.
For Thi Ly, who is now 20 and
still appears to be too fragile to
hold a gun, the past years have
been one of military exploits and
courageous actions in defense of
her village. She has ferried am-
munition across the river that
divides her village while under
fire and she has been buried
alive in a trench, rescued, and
continued to fight. In March
1966 she was given her own rifle
and in December 1966 she was
awarded a medal as "Heroine of
the Armed Forces."
I had a discussion with her in
Hanoi during an interval in the
bombings. Dressed in the black
loose fitting slacks and an em-
broidered white blouse with a
red flower setting off her long
braided black hair she looked
like pordain. ,She spoke in a
soft straight-forward yet mod-
est voice of her role in bringing
down four airplanes. "It is
always best to wait until you
see the plane diving towards you
before firing, it is more danger-
ous personally but much more
effective."
"I had more fear when I was
a liason girl than now that I am
a gunner. I was young then and
feared ghosts and did not like
to run through the jungle my-
self."
We spoke a long time that
afternoon in Hanoi. She told of
the spirit of the people, and of
their suffering, she told of muti-
lated and murdered children, of
napalm and pellets and B-52's.
"When the first air-raid was
over," she said, "there was not
much damage, but several fish
were killed by the concussion of
the bombs as they hit the river.
The village organized a fish bar-
becue that evening, and spirits
were very high. But the chair-
man of our village warned us
then that such raids were ~ o i n g
to continue and increase and that
we must be prepared to fight to-
gether for several years'" She
smiled, with only a slight trace
of bitterness, as the story was
translated.
I asked about her plans for
herself after the war. She start-
ed to say she didn't have any
but was interrupted by a com-
panion and I was told that she
was just elected to the Village
committee and would be very
busy after the war organizing
the reconstruction. For the first
time Thi Ly blushed.
Thi Ly was in Hanoi to parti-
cipate in a recently concluded
"Congress of Heroes of North
Vietnam." Later, when I was de-
scribing my interview with Tran
Thi Ly with another journalist
who covered the Congress of
Heroes, he remarked: "Imagine,
they gather a large hall full of
people like Thi Ly in this situa-
tion in Hanoi and have a meet-
ing' that goes on for a couple of
days. That's the way things are
in this country."
There are a lot of heroes in
Vietnam now. There is a popu-
lar song here, with the rough
translation of the title being "I
Cannot Leave My Gate Without
Meeting a Hero."

13
TERROR
BOMBING
IFi ~ H ; i S 0 1 ~ 0 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ : ~ i : : : ~ : ~
his bed, he gave no sign. He
lay on his back with the sheet
drawn tightly around his neck,
his eyes closed and silent. The
doctor who accompanied us on
the rounds in this hospital in
Haiphong took the opportunity
to take the man's pulse while he
described his injury.
He was a fisherman, who was
with his orphaned grandson in
his small sampan when the at-
tack came. His grandson, who
was the old man's only known
relative was killed instantly, and
the man's injuries while not
fatal were quite extreme.
"He knows his Grandson is
. dead." The doctor said. "He also
wants to die. It is sometimes
hard enough to save those who
want to live." Without any fur-
ther exchange we left the ward.
I thought back to the evening
before in Hanoi, when a few
Vietnamese were telling me over
supper of the traditions of na-
tional resistance to foreign do-
mination that has etched itself
so deeply in the history of that
country. I had proposed a toast
to the effect that I felt this mo-
ment in Vietnamese history
would be recorded as the finest.
My companion replied that per-
14
haps it will be so recorded in
history and in a rather flat voice
continued: "history will not let
this generation rest or die until
the war is over."
There were three patients in
another room in the hospital. All
together there were less than 50
patients in the whole 700-bed
building, which had been under
increased bombing and was
now being dispersed around the
countryside. Only those too
seriously injured to be moved
remained.
The patient I was introduced
to in the ward had close cropped
hair which I assumed belonged to
a young boy. It was as I was
shown the wounds on the back
and legs that I realized it was
the mangled body of a teenage
girl. There were several pellet
burns on her, and bandages
covered inflamed areas where
pellets had been removed.
"She is completely out of dan-
ger," the doctor said, "and will
be evacuated this afternoon."
In Vietnam I learned some-
thing of the effects of the pellet
bombs, which is only one of the
several varieties of anti-personnel
bombs used by the Americans.
They are small bombs packed
into what is called the mother
bomb. The mother bomb is
dropped and explodes on im-
The 'Mother bomb' drops, re-
leasing hundreds of smaller
bombs in all directions. These
explode sending thousands of
pellets into everything living. An-
ti-personnel bombs have no ef-
fect on structures but are design-
ed strictly as terror weapons
against population~ e n t r e s .
pact. The first explosion scat-
ters the smaller bombs over a
wide area in all directions. The
smaller bomb explodes in turn,
driving small balls with rifle
force, again in all directions.
In the bombing raids I wit-
nessed in Hanoi these pellet
bombs were widely used and
they caused many civilian casu-
alties. A further grotesque feat-
ure of these weapons is that the
mother bomb has often a timed
detonator. When a street is
time-bombed, rescue work can-
not properly begin until the area
has been cleared by army sap-
pers. Sometimes a bomb is buried
in the debris or is overlooked
for some other reason and they
can explode within hours or
even days after the raid.
One afternoon I wandered
down a street that had just been
the centre of an attack. In one
compound, the two story home
which fronted on the street had
received a direct hit and was
15
Other anti-personnel bombs
which rain daily from the skies.
"One can imagine the ingenious
American scientists who design
such weapons returning home,
patting their kids on the head
and going to a community meet-
ing."
16
completely gutted. The small
courtyard behind the house was
covered with debris and people
moved through the damaged
buildings piling furniture and
clothes and cleaning the rubble.
A blood stained child's hat
was discarded beside a tree, and
to one side the area was being
washed with a strong ammonia
disinfectant. An old man who
had crouched beside the wall
during the raid was torn apart
in that spot. Beside me a group
of women were squatting in a
small circle talking among them-
selves. Obviously in shock, she
alternately caressed her child
and patted her own head.
Nobody in the courtyard was
crying, there was too much ac-
tivity. Through one doorway I
saw a casket laid out on the
table. It was draped in red bunt-
ing and beside it stood bouquets
of gladiolas. My attention was
distracted by my interpreter
asking me to photograph an old-
er woman with a bandaged child
in her arms. The child was not
too severely injured and put on
a bit of a smile.
We left shortly after this. The
sky that day was cloudless, and
not a breeze stirred on the
ground. It was still early enough
in the day for many more raids.
Such fiendish weapons as
those dropped on Hanoi do not
begin and end with one type of
pellet bomb. They come in all
sizes, shapes and descriptions.
One can imagine the ingenious
American engineers and scient-
ists who designed such bombs,
returning at night to their split-
level bungalow, having a mar-
tini, patting their kids on the
head and then going off to a
community meeting.

FROM HANOI
TOHAIPHONG

one night in late October.
Haiphong and environs had been
under ceaseless Americ'in bom-
bardment since late August. The
strategic aims of the Americans
here were quite clear: the roads
to Haiphong were to be destroy-
ed and perimeter of devasta-
tion created around 'he docks
which would make the move-
ment of supplies impossible.
These strikes against the com-
munication transportation net-
work were supplemented by
scattered terror bombing around
the clcck designed to sap 'he
energy and morale of the popul-
ation of the city.
I was to see direct evidence of
this later this night in the city
myself, yet our journey ,0 Hai-
phong was for the most part un-
eventful.
There were many hair-raising
moments as either the driving
skill or marksmanship of our
driver allowed us to evade or
almost evade the bomb craters
on the road, the twisted wreck-
age of destroyed trucks and the
oncoming traffic. The Vietnam-
ese drivers who ply the Hanoi-
Haiphong route seem deter-
mined not to let either American
bombers or approaching trucks
deter them from their appointed
rounds.
The distance from Hanoi to
Haiphong is less than 100 miles.
It took us six hours to make the
trip and it was the most inter-
esting and instructive six hours
I spent in Vietnam. The road
was clogged with all manner of
trucks carrying all types of
goods in both directions. Moving
south-westward towards Hanoi
the trucks were loaded with war
material; towards Haiphong the
trucks carried Vietnamese ex-
port items, mainly hemp. Along-
side us marched, or strolled,
units of the army, full-pack
weight less than 15 pounds. Dur-
ing one of the waits for a barge
we talked and joked with some
of the soldiers, and my inter-
preter said that he heard that
the Americans tote about that
much weight in chocolate bars.
Aside from the soldiers we
saw many groups of youth volu-
unteers moving along the road
side. These are young boys and
girls who are responsible for 'he
maintaince and elementary :e-
pairs to the roads. Their duty is
to keep the roads open and the
traffic moving. They could be
taken for any group of teen-
agers enjoying themselves at an
out-door party. In the moonlight
17
of the warm night we could see
them encamped in the fields and
we could hear the sound of
laughter and singing about us.
Beside the road, at times only
separated by two or three yards,
are the manhole bomb-shelters,
and beside these are crated
goods, oil and gasoline drums.
These are scattered all over ',he
countryside as a concentration
of fuel makes too ready a target
from the air. The crates usual-
ly bear Russian markings, and
cne can only guess what they
are. Then there are the SAM
rockets awaiting their destina-
tions, only thinly covered by tar-
paulins. In Vietnam one is con-
stantly aware of the enormous
amounts of military and econo-
mic aid received in Vietnam
from the Socialist countries.
Making the trip from Hanoi to
Haiphong, one is overwhelmed
by it.
The journey to Haiphong in-
cludes many detours and alter-
nate roads. As soon as one sec-
tion of the road is attacked, a
18
detour is built and repair work
begins on the destroyed section.
With the railway it is not ::;0
easy but the task is coped with
by scattering extra ties and
track along the route and repairs
are almost instantaneous. The
trains were running between
Haiphong and the South in late
October although they have been
under constant attack for se-
veral months.
Meter traffic to Haiphong is
also forced to cover endless
varieties of makeshift bridges
as well as several barge trips.
"It is a beautiful part of the
country here, with all these
rivers", my guide told me as we
sat on the hood of a jeep smok-
ing while our barge cut across
the river. "But very difficult to
defend." Haiphong was in front
of us. To our left stood the hol-
low skeleton of the cement fac-
tory and to our right the well
lighted port was humming. For
a moment I was reminded of
crossing the Vancouver harbor
on the old ferry. Although con-
Rae Murphy in Hanoi
siderably upstream from the
ocean, in Haiphong there is that
same ~ a l t - w a t e r tang in the air
and in the warm evening it was
hard to believe there was a war
and that if there was an Ameri-
can raid now we would be in
one hell of a fix midstream on
a slow moving barge.
There was not much to see in
Haiphong that night, except to
notice the downtown streets,
cluttered cargo and the move-
ments of mobile cranes now
loading one truck and now un-
loading :mother.
After a short supper we
agreed that we would go to the
destroyed areas of the city just
before dawn and then spend the
rest of the day visiting hospitals,
the docks .'md factories.
Then I experienced my first
direct .'\ir-raid.
I stood by the entrance to the
shelter trying in vain to see
what was happening while my
hosts were continuing their dis-
cussion as if they were waiting
for a subway train. Suddenly ',he
sky lit up with star shells and
there was a rapid and continu-
ous pounding. My interpreter
must have caught the look on my
face. "That's ground fire", he
said, "When the crash and vibra-
tions seems to come from under-
neath you and around you, that's
bombs. When the noise is like
this. overhead, that's our ground
fire."
"Oh." I said.
That night and continuously
thereafter in Hanoi, I had many
cpportunities to listen to the
sounc's, but I don't think I ever
really learned to tell the dif-
ference.

19
RGA IZING
FOR WAR

ment of North Vietnam that
the war was going to be extend-
ed into the North, plans were
put into operation to military
defend the North as well as to
preserve its industrial and eco-
nomic base.
In the years between 1954 and
1964, a period which is some-
times referred to as the "ten
years of peace", North Vietnam
with assistance from the social-
ist countries rapidly developed
its industry and agriculture.
When I was in Vietnam in 1965
I could see the fruits of the ten
years of peace in the number of
living quarters that had been
built, the schools, training insti-
tutes, hospitals and factories.
The coal industry in the North
was becoming highly mechan-
ized, with many working condi-
tions that coal miners in Can-
ada could well envy.
The textile industry was nd-
vancing, an important by-pro-
duct of which was the opportun-
ities presented to a new genera-
tion of Vietnamese women to
become full and equal partners
in the building of a new society.
A machine - building industry
was also built. This industry
developed in accordance with
the needs of North Vietnam, in
that the bulk of its production
was geared to the necessity to
modernize and make agriculture
more efficient.
By most Western standards,
North Vietnam was still an eco-
nomically backward country in
1965. But the progress it had
made in 10 years was breath-
taking and inspiring.
Then came the war in the air,
and with it the de-centralization
20
Rae Murphy inspecting a bombed-out housing complex in Haiphong.
of industry. This one plan, per-
haps more than any other single
defensive measure taken, has
resulted in the economic miracle
of North Vietnam. However, his-
torians will judge that. I will
limit myself to what I saw and
heard.
Over peanuts and beer with
the trade union secretary and
the director of the Haiphong
docks, I was told something of
the traditions of the Haiphong
working-class. "The longshore-
men here are like longshoremen
in every port of the world, and
our traditions of struggle go
back to the building of '(hese
docks. During the darkest days
of the underground struggle
against the French and against
the Japanese, whenever our lead-
ers had to travel abroad we 5aw
they got there. When the time
came to strike and take over,
our men were in the forefront.
Just as now the longshoremen
load and unload the ships, de-
fend the city, and go out into 'the
water and destroy the mines.
The working class of Haiphong
cannot be conquered."
I saw much of this spirit in
Haiphong. Earlier I visited the
engineering plant which was
built in 1960. This plant manu-
factures lathes, automatic drills
and presses, milling equipment,
pumps and other irrigation
equipment. The plant is being
de -centralized and exists in
several buildings throughout the
city with elements scattered in
villages around the province and
indeed throughout the country.
This is true in the physical as
well as in the administrative
sense. In all of North Vietnam,
production is being localized and
its administration and control is
in the hands of local authorities.
The basic products of the Hai-
phong engineering works ap-
peared to be irrigation equip-
ment and a type of portable
drill-press which was designed
21
The beauty of Vietnam. Ha Long Bay, north of Haiphong on the
Gulf of Tonkin.
by the chief engineer of the
plant. The drill has an electric
motor mounted on its frame, is
light enough to be transported
by bicycle, and when the situa-
tion arises, it can have the rear
wheel of the bicycle mounted to
the drive shaft and can be oper-
ated with two workers, one
peddling furiously on the bi-
cycle.
There were about two hun-
dred workers left in the opera-
tion of the plant in Haiphong,
another thousand are scattered
in feeder and assembly plants
around the province. For those
in the city, production goes on
in spite of air attacks. The ma-
chines are encased in bomb-
shelters of their own and the
workers are protected by indivi-
dual shelter beside the machine.
The whole plant is honeycombed
with connecting tunnels and
trenches, which in case of heavy
attack can lead the workers to
safety almost a mile from the
22
factory. "We're diggers in Viet-
nam," the young plant director
told me as I admired the net-
work.
For the workers in the plant
all aspects of life continue.
There is a song and dance en-
semble whose slogan is: "The
sound of our songs rise higher
than the bomb's explosion."
There is a self defense unit, a
medical unit, and above all ' ~ h e r e
are night schools. Fifteen of the
workers have reached college
level in education and is also the
worker has passed the grade
seven level.
It would be pointless to try
and illustrate the competitive
productive spirit in the plant, the
number of medal winners and
the honoured production teams.
Typical of the workers I met
was Nguyen Thi Vieng, a 23
year old girl, who emigrated to
Vietnam from Thailand after
1954. She is a model worker,
who has now reached- college
level in education as is also the planes based in Thailand, South
best rifle shot in the plant. Of Vietnam, and the 7th fleet. Ame-
the total work force, 31 percent rican crusiers also range the
are young women like Thi coast and shell the land from 35
Vieng. miles out at sea.
The plant's Haiphong opera- Some industries cannot be dis-
tions have surpassed this years persed. Every home and building
plan, month by month, and so in the surrounding coal fields
have all the scattered operations. have been destroyed. The work-
The dispersal of industry has ers now live in caves but pro-
a two-fold effect. It protects the duct ion goes on and the ships
lives and families of the workers are unloaded in Haiphong. The
and maintains production in cement plant, which was the
spite of the heavy bombing. pride and joy of Haiphong, is
Secondly, it introduces the destroyed and casts only a gro-
working class into villages ~ n d tesque silhouette on the skyline,
serves as a uniting, cohesive d- but cement is still produced in
feet among the population as a small factories in several vil-
whole which is overwhelmingly lages, and is transported along a
peasant. network of roads that defy any-
As evidence of the success of thing the Americans can seem w
the industrial dispersal in Viet- throw.
nam, I was told that in the pro- In the city life goes on. More
vince of Haiphong, industrial children are enrolled in schools
production in the first six around the city than last year.
months of 1967 is 6 percent There has been a 27 percent in-
higher in this period in 1966, crease in night school attend-
which in turn was 10 percent ance, and in the Haiphong en-
higher than 1965. gineering works the song en-
All this in spite of the inten- semble raises its voices higher
sive attacks which come from than the sound of bombs.

SONGS ARE
WEAPONS
"If we are not the pQrents
of little Vietnam, then surely
we are the godparents. We
presided at its birth, we have
given assistance to it:; file, we
have helpe dto ~ h a p e its fu-
ture."-Senator John F. Ken-
nedy, June I, ]956, at a meet-
ing of the Association of
Friends of South vietnam.
A
SIDE from everything else,
this crude and arrogant
statement denies history. It
ignores the fact that 1,800 years
before the leaders of 13 colonies
organized themselves into ',he
United States of America, ',he
people of Vietnam, from its
scuthern most tip La the ~ r e e n
mountains that form its border
with China in the north, united
in a war of national resistance
against Chinese Mandarin rule.
The national identity, tradi-
tions and culture of the Viet-
namese go back through the
centuries. It is rep,'esented in
the poets they celebrate, the
songs they sing and the delicate
and distinctive art of the peo-
ple.
Even in the midst of ,his bru-
tal war, the cultural ,raditions
of the past blend with the pres-
'24
ent. Public education at all levels
develops and has priority over.
all else. Thousands of young
Vietnamese are being trained
abroad, and amateur and pro-
fessional cultural ensembles tour
the cities and villages.
One night in Hanoi, I attended
a performance of the National
Folk Ensemble. The orchestra
section of the old opera house
was jammed and an overflow
clustered around the back. The
balconies were empty, they are
too hard to evacuate during an
air raid.
The music that evening was
a combination of traditional
folk dances and songs with
seme contemporary pieces about
the war.
For the most part the melo-
dies had that delicate lilt that
one grows to associate with
Vietnamese music, yet the most
impressive aspect of the concert
to my mind was the relaxed at-
mosphere of the audience and
their enjoyment of the perform-
ance. During ene song ,here was
an especially appreciative au-
dience. With each chorus there
was an outburst of laughter. The
song was sung by a girl soloist,
and she did a little pantomime
as she sang. At first I took it
to be a love song, but with the
laughter I began to have my
doubts. I asked my interpreter
for the message in ',he music.
"Well," he said, "It's about a
girl who gets all dressed up on
a holiday to go to the pagoda,
but she is more interested in one
of the bonzes (Buddhist priest)
than in the pagoda, and she is
trying to get the bonze ,0 go off
with her."
"How does she make out?" I
asked.
"Not too good," he replied.
Sure enough, with the last
chorus she moved from the
stage rather dejected, to the
thunderous applause of the aud-
ience.
A few minutes later, she ap-
peared again, this time backed
with a group of female singers.
Again, a similar melody began,
with the same audience reaction.
"How does she make out this
time?" I asked the interpreter.
"This is a song about shoot-
ing down American airplanes
with a machine gun."
"Oh," I said, and looked again
at the stage and the group of
girls in their long flowered
tunics which swept down almost
to their ankles. They were smil-
ing and their harmony almost
tim;led in the auditorium.
It is not only in the music
that one detects a warm and
open-hearted culture. On silk,
delicate pens and brushes de-
scribe the landscape. The filiao
tree, beautiful reminder of the
pine, almost always present.
Many the scene includes
a boy atop a water buffalo or a
typical cottage. At times one
has to look rather closely at
these landscapes to see the bar-
rel of an anti-aircraft gun, also
delicately penned, emerging
from the cluster of trees.
This also is part of the land-
scape today.
Thus the traditional love of
beauty in Vietnam expresses it-
self in the midst of war. Trees,
shrubs and floral arrangements
adorn the sides and tops of
bomb-shelters. At one anti-air-
craft battery I visited, the dykes
that encased the guns were all
terraced with shrubs and flowers.
In a folio of sketches pro-
duced by the South Vietnamese
Liberation Front. the following
explanation is given.
25
"Against one of the most
colossal war machines ever
known in history, people's war
is being fought with valiance
and creativeness, combining
bamboo spears with anti-tank
guns-a war in which a young
mother's persuasive voice just
as a ten-year-old boy's inquiring
look, also are weapons.
"No less effective weapoi is
art with its colors and melodies.
For this is life which is grap-
pling with death, the forces of a
bright future with the evil forces
of a rotten past of oppression.
Here heroism goes hand in hand
with beauty: the fighting people
demand poems and songs and
drawings as urgently as rifles
and bazookas.
"In our country there are not
only bomb explosions and the'
smell of napalm-charred corpses,
but -also-everywhere, even in
blitzed villages and rice fields
scorched by chemical products-
children who dance, men and
women who sing, cameramen
and painters busy filming and
drawing, all of them convinced
that their enthusiastic mettle
will not die down although they
know that they risk their lives
at any moment."
It is this spirit, and perhaps
this aspect of the people's war
in Vietnam that impresses and
moves the foreign observer more
than anything else in that em-
battled country.

26
27
UNBREAKABL
OPTIMISM

11th century. It was a uni-
versity then which specialized
in the humanities. In the centre
of the compound there is a small
delicately carved pagoda like
tower. Here I was told poets
could sit and contemplate. The
tower is designed so that the
poet could have an unrestricted
view of the moon or the shim-
mering pond of lotus leaves, and
still be alone and above the
bustle of the earth.
Around the gardens of the
temple are stone tablets resting
on figures of tortoises. On these
tablets are engraved the names
of all the graduates of the Tem-
ple. Workers are now building
bomb shelters around these
tablets to preserve them from
the expected attack.
The tortoise' as a symbol ap-
pears very often in Vietnam. It
is a symbol of longevity. In the
Lake of the Redeemed Sword it
is said that many centuries ago
a tortoise appeared with a sword,
and a prince was able to use this
sword to lead the people against
the Chinese feudal mandarin
who then occupied Vietnam.
28
No such tortoise appears now.
Instead the Vietnamese who are
locked in this grim war receive
the wherewithal to defend them-
selves from its brother countries
in the socialist world. And with
these weapons fight and success-
fully fight again for their nation-
al independence and salvation.
Yet one is constantly made
aware of history in Vietnam to-
day. It is part of the present.
The Van Mieu Temple is used
again as a school, and while the
workers erect the walls over
the tables, students mingle be-
tween the pond and close beyond
the walls mobile anti-aircraft
units are hurriedly brought into
place.
The teacher who guided me
around the temple said, "Eco-
nomic development should not
be the sole criterion for deter-
mining the cultural level and
civilization of any people."
Earlier that morning I inter-
viewed an army officer and we
discussed the conditions of cap-
tured American pilots. He
seemed apologetic when he said
that they try their best to keep
them well. "They are given a
bigger ration than we are, but
even this is not an adequate diet
for a westerner, and their liv-
ing conditions are certainly not
what they were accustomed to
in the airforce."
"Guess what they would do
to you, if the American military
got their hands on you," I said.
The officer shrugged. "Of
course," he said, "but then we
feel we are civilized people here.
There is no point or satisfaction
in taking physical vengeance on
one or another individual who
may fall into our hands."
With all other impressions
aside. the war is a tragedy for
all involved. Nobody can gauge
the sorrow in Vietnam. The in-
dividual and collective tragedy
of the people, the dilemma of
the American captives, the dead
and maimed American soldiers
in the south, all this is part of
the picture.
In the rubble that is Vietnam
now, one wonders of the life
that could have been for these
people. In 1965 we visited a vil-
lage outside of Hanoi. Than we
were told of the progress of this
one cooperative farm. Almost all
houses then were built of brick,
and even the poorest farmer
could afford a mosquito netting
around his pallet. There was a
primary school in the village,
and a kindergarten. All this is
gone now-and so much more.
Still there is optimism in VIet-
nam, an optimism which is based
on the tangible results of the
air war in which they are prov-
ing capable of withstanding any
American assult. They know
they can survive and win, as the
air war increases their confi-
dence increases for they view
escalation as an act of despera-
tion. Thus they make plans for
after the war, and above all the
schools continue to operate,
young people are taught in shelt-
ers and underground bunkers in
caves and jungles.
There is also the optimism
which springs from the deep and
rich history and traditions of
the people. The long wars of na-
tional liberation and the firm
30
roots of the people, steeped in
culture and in the soil of that
lovely land cannot be obliterat-
ed by bombs. There is a history
here that no computer in the
Pentagon can cancel. Each inch
of that land has been nourished
by centuries of toil, and it will
not be surrendered now. Per-
haps this optimism is also re-
flected in a small way in the
love of beauty one sees in Viet-
nam. On bomb shelters shrubs
and floral arrangements are
planted. At an anti-aircraft bat-
tery I visited, I saw the whole
area was cultivated and the
dykes which enclosed the guns
were all landscaped.
My last evening in Vietnam
was spent at the airport, and
much of that night in a bomb-
shelter. At last the plane ar-
rived, and literally between air-
raids we hurried without for-
mality to the plane. So our part-
ing was brief.
"Good-bye, we will meet
again." And they gave me a
bunch of gladiolas.
In the darkened airplane I felt
a bit sheepish clutching those
flowers.

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