Le Ly Hayslip: "The victory you must win."

Le Ly Hayslip, age 20. 

Credit: Le Ly Hayslip. 

Le Ly walked to the top of the hill behind their house where her father had once told her Vietnam's history and her place in it. The whole area, as far as the eye could see, was destroyed and the village empty of people her age. Many young men had been killed. Young women who couldn't find husbands, not wanting to burden their poverty-stricken parents, had moved to the city for work as housekeepers and hostesses, many of them, including her sister Lan, living with a string of American GI boyfriends. Others had become prostitutes.

Le Ly grieved to think of all the lives the war had destroyed and all the children who would never be born because of it. She wanted to blame someone and told her father so when she reentered the house.

"Are you so smart that you truly know who's to blame?" Trong asked. Everyone on all sides of the war, he said, had been blaming each other from the start. "Don't wonder about right and wrong," he continued. "Right is the goodness you carry in your heart--love for your ancestors and your baby and your family and for everything that lives. Wrong is anything that comes between you and that love. Go back to your little son. .Raise him the best way you can. That is the battle you were born to fight. That is the victory you must win."

From: "Le Ly Hayslip: Freedom is Never a Gift" from Courageous Women of the Vietnam War. 

A US Navy nurse experiences the ugly side of Vietnam War protests

Kay representing the US Navy Nurse Corps at a White House ceremony in which LBJ

signed the H.R. 5894 bill, removing restrictions on women's advancement in the military. 

Credit: Kay Wilhelmy Bauer

"On the morning of August 17, 1970, Kay received a shocking telephone call from her commanding officer telling her to stay home. A bomb had been detonated on the steps directly outside Kay's office door. She had survived a year in a war zone, but here, in what she thought was the safety of her home state, Kay's life was in danger! 

A few months later, on the evening of October 4, Kay was watching television in her St. Paul home with Amy, her former roommate and longtime friend. Suddenly Kay and Amy heard the sound of an explosion, and the house began to shake.

Kay went outside. The house next door had blown up. Fragments had landed on Kay's roof and in her front and back yards. The next-door neighbors, asleep in their beds, had been killed instantly. 

As Kay stood outside with the stunned crowd watching the burning remnants of the house, a man in a suit and tie tapped her on the shoulder.

'Are you LCDR Bauer?' he asked."

From "Kay Wilhelmy Bauer: American Survivor from Courageous Women of the Vietnam War. 

On her way home: Kay Wilhelmy Bauer

Kay, 1966, after receiving the Humanitarian Service Medal.

Credit: Kay Wilhelmy Bauer

"Just before the team's yearlong tour of duty was over, the Republic of Vietnam decorated each of them with the Humanitarian Service Medal.

As they prepared to leave, they were given some chilling advice: travel in civilian clothes and don't tell any fellow travelers where you've been. American war protesters were targeting returning veterans with verbal and physical abuse.

So Kay made sure every aspect of her appearance looked unmistakably civilian before boarding her first plane. But on her second flight, a male flight attendant asked her if she had just returned from Vietnam. 'I was so surprised, I...quickly scanned myself to see if I looked military, but could find nothing amiss,' Kay said later. 'I was afraid to say yes, but worried about saying no.'

She told him the truth and discovered he had no intention of harassing her. quite the opposite: he wanted to honor her with steak and ice cream and a special seat assignment!"

From "Kay Wilhelmy Bauer: American Survivor" from Courageous Women of the Vietnam War. 

An American Air Force sergeant and the legacy of a North Vietnamese surgeon

Dang Thuy Tram, family photo, 1968. 

The story of Dang Thuy Tram, a young surgeon from Hanoi who traveled down the Ho Chi Minh Trail to work for North Vietnamese and Viet Cong troops, and who kept a diary during the war, has been told in one chapter of my young adult collective biography, Courageous Women of the Vietnam War. However, my chapter omitted a key player--Ted Engelmann, a Vietnam War veteran who spent many post-war years in Vietnam. Ted has graciously offered to tell his part in the following post.

Air Force Sergeant Engelmann, summer 1968, coordinating air strikes and US Air Force FACs (Forward Air Controllers), from the TOC (Tactical Operations Center), 3rd Brigade, 1st Infantry Div., Lai Khe (on Hwy# 13, north of Bien Hoa Air Base).

Dear Reader,

First, I appreciate Kathryn’s generosity that I might add some details to the story of Dang Thuy Tram, the medical doctor from Ha Noi, Viet Nam, killed by American soldiers in South Viet Nam, June 1970.  Please understand, VietNam is a country, not a war…a whole other story.

Here are a few bits of background and information that I’ve learned since I met Fred and his brother Rob Whitehurst in March 2005, at the Fifth Triennial Symposium, sponsored by the Vietnam Center & Archives, at Texas Tech University, Lubbock, TX. 

The beginning: Fred Whitehurst enlisted in the Army and arrived in Viet Nam in March 1969 as a SP4 (Specialist 4th class).   Fred was assigned to the military intelligence detachment of his unit, part of the Americal Division, in the small village of Duc Pho, a few km south of Quang Ngai, south of Da Nang.  Fred left Viet Nam three years later.

Fred’s brother, Rob, enlisted in the Army in November 1967.  First, he learned the Southern dialect of Vietnamese at the Defense Language Institute.  Afterwards, Rob was trained in boat operations.  He arrived in Viet Nam in March 1970, and was assigned as a boat skipper in the Mekong Delta.

After Thuy’s death, over time, capturing two of her diaries, Fred was supposed to burn the diaries along with other declassified material, but his Vietnamese translator told him, “Don’t burn these Fred.  They have fire in them already.”  Fred left Viet Nam in 1972, with the two small diaries.

After the war, Fred eventually worked many years for the FBI.  Always wanting to return the diaries, but unable to make any contact with communist Viet Nam, Fred kept the two diaries for 35 years.  Over time, Rob had translated a major portion of the diaries, which gave both men a deeper insight to this dedicated and special woman, Dang Thuy Tram.

Frustrated what to do with the diaries, in 2005, Rob arranged for Fred to donate the two diaries to the archivist at the Vietnam Center & Archives at the Fifth Triennial Symposium on 19 March.  You can see the moving presentation at the virtual archive link: https://vva.vietnam.ttu.edu/repositories/2/digital_objects/251991.

The evening after their emotional presentation, I was one of a couple people who received a CD with both diaries scanned, front-to-back.

A few days later I arrived in Ha Noi.  Eventually I asked a Vietnamese friend to look at the CD and see if she could figure out if there was any family members we could contact.

Reading the diary on her computer, she recognized former places of work of Thuy’s mother and father.  Doing some detective work by making phone calls, she learned the home phone number of Mother Tram and youngest sister, Kim.  Ironically, they lived a few blocks down the street from her office.  Within a couple days after her discovery, I was able to return Thuy’s diaries to her Mother and three younger sisters, and the rest of the family.

Thuy's family reading the diary for the first time, April 28, 2005.

Photo by Ted Engelmann.

As you can imagine, that was an emotional experience, for me, the family, and very soon, the rest of Viet Nam.

By August 2005, Kim had transcribed the beautiful hand-written diaries from the CD and published Nhat Ky Dang Thuy Tram (The Diaries of Dang Thuy Tram).  The book was an instant best-seller.  Over the years it has been translated into more than 20 languages and sold more than 500,000 copies in Viet Nam alone, where a “best seller” in Viet Nam is maybe 6,000 copies. The diaries inspired a Vietnamese film, “Dong Dot” (“Don’t Burn It”).

Two years later, in the fall of 2007, Harmony House, a division of Random House, published the English translation of the diaries, Last Night I Dreamed of Peace, The Diaries of Dang Thuy Tram.

Ted is seen in the central image, wearing a blue shirt and sitting beside Thuy's sister 

as the family reads the diary for the first time, April 28, 2005.

From a personal perspective, I find it strange I have never been contacted for background information by authors, publishers, or others.  Unfortunately, since I'm not mentioned as part of the story, incorrect information is passed on to the reader.  In one case, it was as if the diaries appeared in possession of the family by magic.  It seems my task is to help correct the narrative for future readers and authors as best I can.

Thank you for your understanding and interest in Dang Thuy Tram, and the other extremely deserving women in Kathryn’s book, Courageous Women of the Vietnam War, Medics, Journalists,Survivors, and More.

Obviously there are more nuanced details to the story of returning the diaries of Dang Thuy Tram.  If you have a question, or believe I have overlooked an important fact, please let me know and I’ll do my best to explain.

Sincerely,

Ted Engelmann

mail@tedengelmann.com

Bio:
Unable to keep his freshman college grades up, in February 1966, 19 year-old Ted Engelmann enlisted in the US Air Force, mainly to avoid combat arms in Viet Nam.  Ted was trained in ground-to-air radio maintenance.  His male ego challenged by a girl he was trying to impress, Ted volunteered for Viet Nam.  His wish granted, in March 1968, Air Force Sergeant Engelmann arrived at Bien Hoa Air Base, north of Saigon.  He was assigned to an Air Force Forward Air Control team and lived with the US army, helping direct Air Force air strikes north of Saigon for seven months; then five months with an American Advisory team in the Mekong Delta.  Ted left Viet Nam in March 1969.

Ted has been a teacher at the Middle School (his favorite), High School, and College level in the US, South Korea, and Viet Nam.  He worked as a veteran advocate and national trainer with the Veterans Employment and Training Services, part of the US Department of Labor.

Ted in 2004 after a slide presentation with students at the UN International School in Ha Noi. 

For more than 45 years, Ted has photographed the Viet Nam veteran parades and memorials in Australia, South Korea, and the US.  Ted’s first return to Viet Nam was in March 1989.  He has photographed this changing culture and resilient people for 30 years.

Ted lives in Denver, Colorado.

Kim Phuc: The Girl in the Picture

Nick Ut/Associated Press

In the Southern Vietnamese city of Tien Gang one day in late April 1981, an 18-year-old woman was summoned from her premedical studies classroom. Four men were in the hallway asking for her.

When she came into the hallway, the men stared at her.

"You are Kim Phuc?" one of them finally asked.

"Yes--I am Kim Phuc," the girl answered.

"You are the girl in the picture?" the man askesd.

"Yes," she replied. "I am the girl in the picture."

This woman looked far too normal, too healthy to be the one they sought. The famous photo they spoke of had been taken nine years earlier, on June 8, 1972, during an event that nearly ended the girl's life.

A few days before the photo was taken, Kim's family had fled their home because the Vietcong was pressuring the Phucs to work for them...

Excerpt from "Kim Phuc: Running from War" from Courageous Women of the Vietnam War.

Kim's memoir, published in 2017, is called Fire Road: The Napalm Girl's Journey Through the Horrors of War to Faith, Forgiveness, and Peace. 

Lynda Van Devanter: Landing in Vietnam

Lynda is pictured second from right, lower photos.

On June 8, 1969, 1st Lieutenant Sharon Lane, a 26-year-old nurse fro Ohio, became the first (and only) US Army nurse killed in Vietnam as a direct result of enemy fire. She had been sitting on a bed in her hooch when a VC rocket exploded nearby, sending shrapnel in every direction.

A few hours after Sharon's death, the plane carrying Lynda and 350 men began its descent into South Vietnam. When the plane began "jerking wildly," luggage fell from the overhead racks. Terrified, Lynda looked out the window. She could see explosions.

"Men," said the voice of the pilot over the intercom, "we just came into a little old firefight back there and it looks like them V.C. ain't taking too kindly to us droppin' in on Tan Son Nhut. So we're gonna take a little ride on over to Long Binh and see if we can't get a more hospitable welcome. Keep your seatbelts buckled and we'll be down faster than you can say Vietnam sucks."

Lynda was slightly reassured by his casual manner and then by their smooth landing in Long Binh. "But if there had ever been any cockiness in me before this trip began, there sure wasn't any now," she wrote later. "In its place was a cold, hard realization: I could die here."

From Lynda Van Devanter: 'Why Do They Have to Die'" from Courageous Women of the Vietnam War.

Excerpts from Home Before Morning: The Story of an Army Nurse in Vietnam included by permission of the Buckley family.

Lynda Van Devanter: After a Mass Casualty (Mass-Cal)

Lynda is pictured second from right, lower photos. 

Over the next three days Lynda snatched bits of sleep whenever she could. She rarely knew if it was day or night. But when the mass-cal was over, Carl gave her the greatest compliment she could have wished for: "You're a good help, Lynda."

As they walked to the hooches, Lynda could hear the sound of guns and helicopters in the distance. She wondered how long it would be until the wounded of that battle would be brought to the 71st. The thought made her shudder.

Both too tired to sleep, Lynda and Carl talked for a long time, both "trying to sound philosophical about...death." Lynda finally broke down, crying and shaking. Carl tried to comfort her and wound up crying too.

"Why do they have to die, Carl?" Lynda asked.

"Who knows?" he replied.

"I don't understand," she said.

"Nobody does," he said.


From "Lynda Van Devanter: 'Why Do They Have to Die?'" from Courageous Women of the Vietnam War. 

Quotes from Home Before Morning: The Story of an Army Nurse in Vietnam included with permission of the Buckley family.

Dana Delaney as Colleen McMurphy of the "China Beach" series, 

which was loosely based on Lynda van Devanter's memoir.