INTRODUCTION MAY 1997

When visiting Vietnam in 1995, some 30 years after my tour of duty with 1RAR, I met a Vietnamese English teacher by name of ……….. in a small village located about ………. metres ….. of the Bien Hoa Air base in the A company Tactical Area Of Responsibility (TAOR). I was invited to return sometime in the future and help teach English. After a two year period of correspondence, a date was fixed for my return, which included a tour from Hanoi to Saigon with my wife prior to moving into ……………………………. During this planning period, I corresponded my desire to travel to the Operational Area (OPERATION HUMP 5-9 Nov. 1965) in the Gang Toi Hills and do what I could for "Tiny" Parker and Peter Gillson (both missing I killed in action) by way of a memorial of some kind. I served in both 1 and 3 Platoons as a stretcher bearer I medic. I knew Peter's brother, my wife knew his family and by a quirk of fate I also met ……. (Peter's son). Colin Butterworth (ex 1 Platoon) knew of my planned trip and asked if he could take part, I readily agreed as "Tiny" Parker was Col's section commander.

After my wife's return to Australia, Col and I moved into the village as arranged; Col for one week and I for seven weeks. I was to teach English for an hour or two in the evenings. Our aim for the first week was to visit the 1 RAR lines, locate the old French fort on the Song Dong Nai and get into the operational area of the Gang Toi Hills and if possible, visit "Hill 82" and pay our respects to the "missing".
 

MONDAY 12.5.97.

On arrival at the village, we were welcomed and introduced to a ……………, a former ARVN (South Vietnamese) Platoon Commander now the Village Chief, responsible for security matters in the Village. The mood of the occasion soured as our host, ..., neglected to get permission from the police for us to stay and. after writing an application and delivering it to the Police, it was rejected outright! ….. assured me that he would speak to the Chief of Police the following morning. He told us to stay the night and tomorrow he would get approval.

We met the English students for the first time and, as we were the first foreigners to come to the village, the students were unsure of themselves. However, they came armed with many questions to practice their English on us. The evening flew as we went from class to class. …... called in and stated: "based on the assistance we are offering the young people of the village in their English lessons, our application to stay must be supported on humanitarian grounds". During the course of the evening over a hundred students attended.
 

TUESDAY 13.5.97 (The Longest Day).

I was up at first light when the atmosphere was damp and heavy, with thunder rolling through the hills in the distance. The wet season was approaching. It was an eerie feeling as there were other all too familiar sounds! We could hear the explosions of grenades and rifle fire from our old Battalion lines, we were transported back 30 years in time. The old base was in use as a military training area, albeit now under the control of our former enemy. We heard the roar of jet engines coming from the direction of the old tarmac, and spotted a pair of jet fighters screaming along the airstrip! The noise was incredible when the jets hit their afterburners, as the realisation hit that they were a pair of Phantoms left over from the war .

….. did not contact us again. .. was worried and his wife, …., was openly nervous and kept to herself. Telephone calls were taken by .., ( in Vietnamese) and he was very guarded about the calls. The atmosphere around the house was electric with the whole family appearing quite frightened and nothing said to us. It was difficult to move around the house without having a family member watch every move I made! I thought I was paranoid, and mentioned my feelings to Col, who agreed with me. He had made similar observations.
…. had prepared a meal and we ate in silence. .. asked if we would like to sleep for a few hours, but I declined, explaining that it was not our custom to sleep during the day. .. was tired but wouldn't take siesta himself. More inward telephone calls and the mood intensified; wherever we moved .. literally chased after us. We realised we were under some form of house arrest. When I walked along the track towards the main road and .. ran after me. Col walked in the opposite direction and …. son, …, ran after him. The family was openly frightened to lose sight of us!

.. contacted a student's father who was the local Political Officer, a member of the Communist Party for 40 years and a former Vietcong. This bloke was built like a brick dunny, had a face like a lump of blue stone, and a personality to match. .. told us his friend would help as I helped his sons with their English. The Political Officer didn't speak any English but, through .. he told us he would "sort our' the problem and took our passports to the police. About an hour later the rains bucketed down with lightning and rolling thunder! The Political Officer arrived back, wet as a shag and bristling with anger. The police had spat him out as well saying it was illegal for us to stay in the village. .. and our former VC mate then went to Bien Hoa to see the senior police. This time they took a "sweetener" by way of a Million Dong. (About $100). Col had a bottle of Johnny Walker to donate, but we decided against this as our personal need was greater in view of the drama unfolding. They took our passports along with strict instructions to the effect that they were not to part with them. While they were in Bien Boa we worked with a group of English students.
.. arrived back looking very frightened and his mate looked grim. They didn't even get a chance to offer the "sweetener", as the police, on learning he had foreigners in his house, threatened to shoot up the house or at the very least, raid his home, seize our passports, and place the lot of us under close arrest. We were told we must leave immediately! Our Communist (ex.) mate was to supervise the packing of our bags, then to ensure we moved out. The whole family was in tears as we packed and booked into a hotel in Saigon and the students were angry not understanding their own people's actions. Once we were packed, the Political Officer was satisfied we were on our way and left. We stayed for a few more hours with the students before leaving.
 

WEDNESDAY 14.5.97.

I told .. I must cut my trip short, due to the uncertainty of the situation and the risk involved. The political climate was not ready for foreigners to help in rural areas. Having made the decision to leave, I booked the earliest flight out of the country and that was eleven days away. A long time to be stuck in Saigon! The next few days passed uneventfully.
 

FRIDAY 16.5.97.

.. organised a car to collect us and take us back to the village as he was prepared to run us to and fro until our departure. We arrived at the village again, then after a short rest we ventured out on the back of a couple of motorbikes. We passed a cemetery where I spotted a pagoda I had photographed while on patrol 32 years ago. I was surprised how well the building had lasted. It was a strange sight with Australian gum trees everywhere. a gift to the Vietnamese people from the Australian Government.

We travelled a ……… south and found the old perimeter of our battalion, "A" company area. I could visualise the camp as it was all of those years ago. All of our old gun pits and our tent city were now a large cashew plantation. It is a far better use than we had for it. .. was scared and told us we couldn't explore the area as this was a security zone, we shouldn't be here. I couldn't have been more pleased as we were probably the only members of the whole Brigade to get back into our old lines, albeit somewhat illegally. The evening was spent with the students who showed incredible interest in Australia. The concept of travelling freely through the land, from state to state, was difficult to grasp.
 

SATURDAY 17.5.97 WAR ZONE D AND THE GANG TOI HILLS.

We were at the Song Dong Nai (River), the northern edge of our TAOR. Across the river was War Zone D". We saw houses and people farming what was formerly a free fIre zone. Just a few metres away was the old French fort where we used to lie in ambush; the earthworks were still visible but the old French tanks were gone, they were sold for scrap. The local people were very friendly and curious about a couple of old soldiers returning to the area. Like the students, the young people had never seen foreigners before and seemed surprised at our knowledge of the local area. .. asked us where we would like to go from here. I replied "The Gang Toi Hills". He protested that it was too far to get there on the motorbikes and the car would take us there later. Concerned about the reliability of the driver of the car, I pushed .. a little harder on the trip by motorbike while they were still available. The distance was not that great. (17 Km.) So he agreed despite his obvious fear and paranoia. Col and I knew the ground well as I had in my possession, military maps, a copy of Major Healey's battle map and, a Global satellite system (GPS).

We headed off in a North Easterly direction, both of us looking for landmarks. It was strange feeling going over familiar roads in what was our TAOR, especially seeing gum trees lining the tracks and roads. We saw many young men in the villages. During the war the only contact we had with young men was when we were shooting at each other . Now they waved to us. We spotted the track leading into the old battle site and knew we were well inside the Gang Toi operational area, .. was terrified! The Re-education camps did a good job on him and we knew a few people from his village were tortured to death at the wars end. He asked us to speak to nobody or to let anyone see our maps. .., convinced we were being watched, refused to venture along the track towards the battle site, his paranoia complete! We travelled North along the main road away from the track but, unknown to .., towards the old insertion site near the river junction. Here I spotted a prominent feature which I felt would overlook Hill 82, estimated by us to be about 1500 metres to the East. .. and his son, …, agreed to wait at the foot of the hill (350 ft.) with a group of local workers while we climbed to the top.

(Note by Jim Bourke: 350 ft is 106 meters. There is no feature of this hieght in the vicinity of 1,500 meters east of Hill 82. Description of travel would put the party WEST of Hill 82. No point to the west is 106 meters either. Need clarification please Ken.)

It was bloody hard work, as the hill was covered with "Wait a While, Spiky Bamboo" and various other thorny bushes. We completed a resection on the map confirming our location, and stood silently looking directly at Hill 82. It will always be a very emotional memory for me. We both knew we were so near but dared not go closer as the area had not been cleared of mines. We were about to leave when a man approached us through the bush. He spoke to us in broken English and sign language. We introduced each other and learned that his name was ……. Thinking we were business men, he gave us a hand written book introducing himself and his work. We indicated we weren't in business but regardless of this we are quite friendly towards each other. He wanted to show us something on the peak of the hill and, after threading our way through the thick scrub to the peak, he showed us his "treasure" on the hill! First he crossed himself and repeated 'The Father, The Mother, The Son, And The Holy Ghost". He was a Catholic and he had laid out a couple of rocks on top of the hill. There were four stones covered by an old ragged piece of cloth and, on the cloth there appeared to be a couple of flat white stones. On closer examination, I recognised a nose, lips, and a cheek. It was a part of a broken statue and very old. He told us it was his "Maria", his Virgin Mary. He had retrieved it from a bombed out church and I felt humbled by his desire to share his shrine with us. This shrine was a most appropriate thing as, by chance, it overlooked Hill 82. I knew I would return and leave some token in memory of our lost mates. Later that night, Col and I drew up a cross and attached a Regiment Badge, complete with names, dates, unit and sub unit.
 

SUNDAY 18.5.97

Next day, on arrival at the village, I held the vehicle in order to return to the shrine. I felt we must act quickly as .. has been terrified at what we had been doing. I told him we must return to the Gang Toi Hills and climb the same hill we climbed the day before. He was very hesitant when I told him of the importance to us; that we wished to pay our final respects to the dead. Finally he agreed.

When we were about 2 kilometres from the hill, paranoia and fear again struck  and he asked us not to speak to anyone. …….. was essential to our pilgrimage so, as we passed the same men at the base of the hill, I called out “……..” and headed for the top of the hill. Finding the shrine again was our immediate problem in the thick scrub. Once located, we carefully removed the fragments of the "Maria" and placed our small token of respect under the cloth and replaced what we had removed. As we completed our task ……. arrived beaming with pleasure upon seeing us. We showed him the plastic bag with our cross and badge and, on seeing the names and the dates, he immediately crossed himself and dropped to his knees in prayer. He was so emotional in his prayer given in Vietnamese. ……………………… On recovery. we asked .. to explain the loss of our comrades to ….. He was hesitant, as his fear was very real ! …. came from the North. This, plus the fact .. was a Buddhist, led to …. distrust of ….. Out of frustration we told him the war was over. Finally .. explained the reason of our visit and the significance of the site. …. understood and accepted the role of custodian of our token of respect. He told us he would build a permanent shrine on this special site and offered to place our token underneath. thus preserving it. …. picked a small plant and called it Bong Nai, explaining that it only blooms at Vietnamese New Year (a week away). and gave it to me. He then placed another on our shrine. As the three of us silently offered our final respects to the dead, I heard the Phantoms at Bien Hoa and those around us. Only then did I become aware of the heat and humidity of the place and wondered how we had coped in those days.
We had at last buried the dead.