Miso Vogel

Taken prisoner by Nazis. Interred Novaky, Slovakia 1941-1942. Transferred to Auschwitz 1942-October 1944. Oranienburg October-December 1944. Dachau December 1944-January 1945. Landsberg January-February-March 1945. Escaped March 1945. All his family murdered in concentration camps. MOTHER: CORNELIA died September 23, 1942, Auschwitz. Age 42. SISTER: MARTA died September 23, 1942, Auschwitz. Age 10. BROTHER: MAXMILLIAN died September 23, 1942, Auschwitz. Age 8. BROTHER:ARPAD killed Lublin Majdanek, May 1942. Age 16. SISTER: ROZSIE died June 1942, Auschwitz. Age 20. FATHER: HEINRICH VOGEL died November 1942, Auschwitz. Age 44. Owner of a cattle business in Topolcany before the war.

Of a family of seven, Miso the only survivor. Assigned to a work detail at Auschwitz. “ARBEIT MACHT FREI.” He searched belongings of incoming prisoners stunned after days, weeks on the transports- no food- packed in like cattle- awaiting torture, death at the hands of the Nazis. A badly faded photograph shows Miso catching a bundle of clothes, frozen by a camera in mid-flight at the rail station of Auschwitz. He was just a teenager.

After escaping from a concentration camp deep inside Germany, Miso joined the U.S. Army. On furlough at the end of the war he returned to his home town in Slovakia to obtain records (birth certificate, medical history, etc.) needed for U.S. citizenship. The same Slovaks who had stolen his father’s cattle business and family home greeted him at the front door of his house. “We thought you were gassed. Thought you were burned like all the rest.” Miso’s records, all the records of the Jews, were, like the Jews themselves, gone forever from that part of the world.

Mieczyslaw Weinberg

“Once I tell a neighbor of mine he should stay by the boards, to let me in- I will come back from the Aryan side by 6 in the evening when it’s dark. And he wait for me. His name was Simcha Offinger, he was from Trade Mechanic School with me.

When I come back to the ghetto from the Aryan side I saw that he let in a lady. But in that time I listened a German is running because they got on their soles special iron nails, and from far away you can listen if they are marching or they are running. So now I hide in the other side of the wall so he should not see me. He pulled out the woman. He got in one hand the revolver, a Luger, and the other a flashlight. He shot my friend in his mouth, killed him. Then he bent down to see what he did and I saw I been at risk he kill me too, he will turn and he’ll see me. So I hit him with a karate chop in his neck. I was a middleweight boxer, a karate man too. Then I lay down and with my leg on his throat I strangled him. We pulled him into the ghetto. We got to wash the blood from my friend off the ground so no one should see something happened here. And we disrobed the German.

They got there in the ghetto hundreds of dead people each day from hunger. We put him on the wagon with the Jewish dead people and put maybe 25 or 30 dead Jews on him and took him to the Jewish cemetery, the Gesia Cemetery. His uniform was burned up, I don’t know who stole the revolver, I beat up 3 guys and maybe they took it. That revolver was worth a lot of thousands of zlotys, because it was a really German Luger. This was the story. You got every day such stories in the ghetto.”

Ida Paluch

“My first memories really come to me when I was three and a half year old in 1942 when all the Jews from Sosnowiec were herded into the ghetto… At that moment when my mother was separated from us children she got very upset and panicky and she ran to the first building that she could approach and we ran after her and as she ran upstairs we tried to catch up with her and she ran to the third floor and she jumped from the window…

My aunt took me into hiding. She had a friend, a Christian man, his name was William Maj, who came to visit her; he was like a business associate before the war. He took a walk to the ghetto and as he came there just by chance I was walking with my aunt, holding on to her skirt and as he saw us behind the barbed wire fence we came to talk to him. He said, ‘who is this little girl?’ So she explained that her sister committed suicide and I’m an orphan, an extra mouth to feed. He offered to take me with him, but there was a condition: He said that he’ll never give me back. And she handed me over the barbed wires and that was the last time I saw my family.

The next memory I have is when he took me to the city of Czestochowa. So when he came with me to his wife, he had me in a coat and he brought me on a train and he opened the coat, it was Christmas time, and he said to his wife, ‘This is your Christmas gift.’ …

And from then on everything would be wonderful but my Polish father, to earn a living he took a horse and buggy and went to neighboring villages and he usually took with him in the buggy tobacco, sugar, merchandise in the village to sell and that was forbidden, because most of the merchandise like that was supposed to be given to the German Army and that was against the law what he did. So the last trip he took was with his 2 cousins. He went to the village of Oduz; when he came there the Gestapo was there, somebody turned them in and they were shot on the spot all 3 of them… From then on we had a very bad life…

On the streets of Czestochowa I learned to hate Jews and to be afraid of them. I heard from other children and from neighbors that the Jews catch Polish children. They kill them and they use the blood for matzo for Passover… There was a lot of talk about Jews and mainly about the Jews killed Jesus. I went to church every Sunday every holiday and I kneeled there…

So when the war was over and my Polish mother decided to take me to the Jewish school, when I went there I recognized that I am not in my environment…I figured out those must be those terrible Jews. And I was so afraid, I was so petrified that I decided first chance I have I have to run away from here… I started to scream and yell, ‘Help,help! Jews are taking me for matzo, Jews are gonna kill me.’ And almost I caused a pogrom. And people came with sticks…

Later my own father, my natural father came… and I was taken forcefully to the city of Sosnowiec…All I wanted to do was run, jump from the window—I was afraid of those Jews.”

Henryk Werdinger

“They took me to work in the quarry at Mauthausen. Oh, that was bad. The worst part was that you didn’t know what kind of rock to take. You had to go down stone steps, way down I don’t know how many stone steps, real steep, rocks all over. You pick up a rock, you go up all those stone steps and walk all the way to the camp—a few miles— and put the stone down. In the meantime the SS is all around you. If you took too big a stone you won’t make it. If you take a little stone they beat you; they make you run to the fence and I witnessed that many times. They started to scream, beat you and say, ‘Run!’ Everyone knew if you run to the fence, you’re dead because from the watchtowers they will shoot you and besides the fence is electrified. They beat you so hard you’re practically dead anyway. So the biggest dilemma was what kind of rock to take…

They took a group of us and they sent us by train to Linz II, a satellite camp of Mauthausen to work at Hermann-Goring-Works. The conditions were really bad at Linz II. The longer we were there the worse it got. Hunger- that was the main thing. With every step, you tried to economize your energy. If I was walking I tried to figure what is the shortest way. One step less- everything was an effort. I could hardly walk; I was so weak from hunger.

I saw people, I witnessed this: can you imagine eating a raw dead rat? Naturally they died. They would have died anyway. Some of the non-Jewish Polish and Russian prisoners once in a while were able to get packages from home, so they used to go pick them up. And on the way to the barracks the others would attack them and get away. So they came after one- I saw it. They attacked him and there was granulated sugar there in one package and it spilled into the mud. And after they left I picked up that sugar with the mud and I ate it. There was mud and sugar mixed. That’s as far as I went personally.”

Irma Morgensztern

“When I escaped the Warsaw ghetto, the night I was escaping, I was going through the wires and there was a lot of glass on top of the wall. The Germans were shooting to me, but I escaped. I was running fast and I ran to one tall building and in that building Mr. Pietruszka took me to his house. He was waiting for me there. It was set up by my parents…

When they took me out from Warsaw I had different papers. Pietruszka gave me papers that I am Barbara Nosarzewska. He got the papers from the church after a girl that was dead, but close to my age. So when I jump out from the Warsaw wall he had the papers with him. So immediately I became Barbara Nosarzewska… So while I was sitting with the cows in the pasture I was thinking to myself, ‘That’s me or not me?’ Because here I have to remember if I survive I am Irma Morgansztern but I’m not allowed to say it now. I was a kid and this was sitting in my head…

It was terribly tragic the night before I left the Warsaw ghetto when my parents knew I’m going to be gone the next night. So we were sitting and talking and they were trying to put in my head who I am, that I’m from Warsaw and my name is Barbara Nosarzewska; I never should forget. My mother taught me all the Polish catechism that you go to the first communion. Every night before I left the ghetto she was examining me from all the prayers, if I know all the prayers, so in case the German caught me and asked me, ‘Well what do you do on Monday night? Do you go to church and what do you do?’ I will know what to say. And on the other hand they were trying to put into the other side of my brain that after the war I am Jewish and my name is Irma Morgensztern.

The night before I left they were telling me to remember those things. They were sitting and mom was cutting my finger nails; my father was cutting my toe nails. We were crying all night. They were telling me only that I can tell my name after the war, not before, to nobody.”

Jadzia Strykowska

“Before I smuggled out from the ghetto to join the underground my mother gave me a little celluloid tube and I put there in a poison pill and my mother gave me some valuable stones to put in there… After my capture I was sitting in the cattle car cutting out my pictures, the faces of my mother and the faces of my father. I also cut out a little picture of myself because I wanted to remind myself how I really look. And I had a picture of my brother and me and we were in a summer place the year before the war started. Then I also cut out a picture of my Zionist platoon leader, Icek Rosenblatt and I cut around the picture of my platoon, Beit-Shan, that we made before we left and I rolled them up all tightly, I left the poison pill, I took out the stones and I put in the pictures…

We arrived on a very freezing January evening to Bergen-Belsen. So we went in to get a shower and right before we went in I took my tube and I put it in my rectum. They searched you again in your hair and you had to open the mouth and some of the people they even checked internally, whether they didn’t hide any valuables. I was lucky-I passed… It was miserable there. They had us schlep stones from one place to the other just to wear us out so they wouldn’t even have to use a bullet on us. And so every day the circumstances got harder and harder. My solace were my pictures. When I came in in the evening I used to unroll them and look at them and I said, ‘My goodness, I am not from stone. I am from people. I am from a family.’…

We were in Skokie in 1977 when the situation came out with the Nazis that they wanted to march here. This was already too much. Before that we didn’t talk for a few reasons. People did not want to listen. They told us to forget about it, to start a new life, to live here for today not for yesterday. It’s not a question of forgetting; we never, ever forgot. But as I say we got involved in everyday life and when the Nazis wanted to come here under our windows, so to say, that was a little too much and it kind of woke us up and we decided not to let it happen because freedom of speech is not freedom to slander. They legally later on won that they can walk but they got afraid to walk here because they knew that we would never let them get out alive from here… When it was over we started speaking, we started telling our stories.”

Jakob Schwartz

“They put us again in the train- it took a week to go from Dora to Bergen-Belsen- and we had to sit on the wooden floor, packed like herring, rows and rows next to each other. They gave us one loaf of bread, period. And that had to last- but we didn’t know for how long it had to last. People were dying in the train left and right. Next to me was a Jewish doctor from Vienna and he was dying and it was real dark on the train. He kept on making noises. We were maybe the 4th row from the front and there were German soldiers with guns sitting in front of us. One of them said, ‘Quiet, quiet!’ But he wasn’t quiet because now I think he was unconscious. With his rifle the German started to beat us. He beat me horrible. As a matter of fact I couldn’t speak for a whole week. Nothing came out of me. Nothing would come out. After he beat me the German shot the guy and he was dead. The body, of course, stayed there all along. As a matter of fact I sat on him because it was more comfortable to sit on him than on the floor. I still have the aftereffects of that beating. And when I get tense I cannot talk.

Years later I became president of my hospital’s medical staff and chief of obstetrics at St. Margaret’s Hospital. I remember one day there were arguments back and forth among executive committee members. The discussion became heated. And I started to talk and nothing came out, not a word. I tried for maybe 10 minutes. And I never told them why. Sometimes now words come out, not exactly the right way. It’s only when I’m tense. I still have nightmares constantly. My wife wakes me up when I make noises during the night.

After the war I became a real workaholic- I constantly worked day and night, day and night, day and night. Then when I was 44 I had a heart attack but I had delivered 92 babies that month. 92 deliveries! All our effort is to make sure the mothers and babies are well and healthy. The Germans killed millions of children like nothing- you tell me is there a God?”

Kato Steiner

Katie Steiner was 19 years old when the Germans marched into Hungary on March 17, 1944. She was rounded up along with her parents, Louis and Rose, and a younger brother, Sandor, then moved to a ghetto in nearby Csorna. Prior to their arrest by the Nazis, a Catholic priest had offered to provide them with false papers and a safe hiding place. Katie’s mother refused, “I am born as a Jew. If I have to die, I die as a Jew.” Her father was sent to work in a labor camp.

On July 10 Katie, her mother and brother left the train station in Sarvar in a crowded transport. Four days later on a cool, fresh morning the doors were thrown open and everyone was forced out of the wagons and made to stand inspection on the train platform at Auschwitz. Dr. Josef Mengele motioned with his hands to the right or left depending upon the age and health of the prisoners. He asked Katie’s mother her age. Fiercely clutching her children Rose responded “42.” Mengele announced: “Ein jung, eine alte.” Katie’s mother and brother were sent to the left, Katie and several girlfriends from her village of Farad, to the right. As Rose was led away she cried out, “Kato”. Katie was frozen on the platform until an SS man hit her with a stick, “Raus.”

Katie and the others who had been sent to the right were taken to a building where they undressed, showered, were shaved head to toe, deloused and given prison clothes. She was issued a pair of wooden shoes and her prison number, 28339, was sewn onto the left sleeve of an ill-fitting uniform.

At the end of the first month, Katie, along with 20 girls from her village, volunteered to work at a camp in Allendorf in western Germany. Katie figured anywhere else was better than Auschwitz.

At Allendorf Katie worked in a munitions factory 8 floors underground. Her job was to remove the insides of unexploded hand grenades so that the gun powder could be reused. Katie and the others were given respirators and rubber gloves to prevent them from going blind like the Russian girls before them who handled the toxic powder without any protection.

From August 1944 until March 1945 Katie remained at Allendorf. At 6 a.m. on March 25 she and seven or eight hundred prisoners were marched out of the camp. By 10 o’clock the Americans had occupied Allendorf. Given no food for 3 days, they were forced to travel about 40 kms. on foot under cover of darkness. On the fourth night Katie and 3 friends left the long line of prisoners and hid in a barn. Hearing the shouts of SS guards they crawled beneath a haystack and waited.

The next day they doubled back and headed for the advancing American troops. They encountered a German woman who offered to fix them some breakfast; it was their first meal in 4 days. By the fifth day the Americans arrived and Katie and her friends rushed up to a fence by the road to cheer troops filing past. The soldiers gave them cheese, chocolate, and soap and housed them in the best hotel in Betz. For the first time in nearly a year Katie was free.

Walter Thalheimer

“I was working as a tool and die maker in a machine shop in Thereseinstadt. While I was there all of a sudden we heard rumors that a Red Cross commission was to come and inspect the camp because Hitler had made a public statement that he was going to make a film and call it, ‘Hitler Gives the Jews a Town.’ In the square they built a gazebo- a music pavillion. Outside some of the houses along the square they built outdoor cafes. Oh and by the way, there was a very famous actor by the name of Kurt Gerron who was one of the original actors in the Berlin production of ‘The Threepenny Opera,’ the Berthold Brecht and Kurt Weil musical. He had become a movie director. And the Germans approached him and told him that if he would make that movie for them he would never have to worry; he would never be deported; he could always stay in Thereseinstadt. And he agreed to do it.

We were marched to these newly built outdoor cafes where we were set down and were given some brown liquid- certainly not coffee- just brown-colored water and we had to sit there and sip it while the movie was being taken from us. They put an orchestra in the gazebo playing music- Viennese waltzes and all these things. And of course once the commission was gone that was all- never to be used again. And when the first transports to Auschwitz started again in 1944, Kurt Gerron was on the list…

There was a guard at Birkenau who came by while we were standing at attention. He was a giant of a guy. He looked us over and he pointed to one, ‘You!,’ and another one, ‘You!’ They were told to stand across from us 15 yards away where the next barracks was. One in front of the other. We had no idea what he had in mind. The moment they stood there he pulled his revolver and says, ‘Let’s see if I can kill the two of you with one shot.’ Pmp. Pulled the trigger. And the first one died immediately. He probably hit the heart. And the next one was only wounded because the bullet had lost a lot of velocity, probably didn’t penetrate further than the ribs. Standing but holding himself. The SS guard said, ‘Oh. I didn’t kill you, huh? Let’s try it again.’ And he pulled someone else out. By this time we knew what he wanted…

When you think back it’s like a dream almost. Sometimes you wonder, ‘Is it reality?’ That’s one of the reasons I went back to Germany. At Oehringen, we had a beautiful house. It looked almost like a chalet- that’s the way I remembered it. So we went back- I took my wife- and sure enough it was still there. I was glad that I did go back and I did realize that I didn’t just dream these things.”

Dora Mizutz

“I saw it’s not good, my brother wants to get married but my mother wants him to wait until I am married. So I left. I was a Zionist since 14 years old. I was that time 19 or 18 and I went to a Kibbutz near Lodz. I worked there; I was a housekeeper and I was there one year when a boy came in. I liked him very much. It was a Friday he came in and I saw him through the window. And I said, ‘This boy will be mine. Girls, remember.’ So he came in. It was like something hit me. His name was Alexander Kirsch.

I went once to fetch water from the well. He ran out and he helped me. And then he said to me that I am such a type as to be a model for a painter. And then I fell in love with him and he fell in love with me. And it was a very, very big love. He went away then he came back and he brought me a lot of presents. That’s it and then the war broke out. We got married in the ghetto.

While at Auschwitz I had a dream that I open a door, there is nothing. I open another door, there is nothing. I open the third door, there is nothing. A door after a door. Then I saw a window and I jumped out of the window and it was so soft, I didn’t hurt myself. This dream made me think I’m going to survive.

I never heard about my family back in Rovno, absolutely, until after the war. I got a letter from a friend. She wrote that the Germans took the Jews of Rovno, every one of them and they took them to the Sosinkes ?, a little pine forest- sosna means pine. They took them there and they tell them to dig a long grave. And they put them by the grave one by one and they shoot them and they fell in, some dead and some alive, they fell in the grave. And then the Germans put lye and water on the bodies and it start to boil and everybody was dead, everybody. Nobody was alive- not one person, not one Jew from Rovno. Among them were my father, mother, brother, his wife and three children.

Alexander and I were reunited when the Russians liberated Auschwitz. A few years later my daughter was born in Kelce. She grew up like a flower in the sun in a family with a father and mother that loved her. The whole house was love. And I never told her. I didn’t want to tell her what we went through because I didn’t want to spoil her love of life.

It is important, absolutely, not to look backwards, because everybody has a tragedy in his life, somewhere, something. Better to look forward and to enjoy every day. You appreciate life when you think of losing it. I wasn’t afraid in the camp. I was sure that tomorrow I could be dead but then I am alive—I survived. And life is so beautiful.”

Written in Memory: Portraits of the Holocaust

Published to coincide with a major exhibit at the International Center of Photography in New York, Written in Memory is artist Jeff Wolin’s unique tribute to the spirit and courage of those who survived the Holocaust. In these penetrating portraits, words of Holocaust survivors are imprinted directly on the images, like numbers tattooed on forearms and pain etched forever in the memory. Faded snapshots of the survivors…[More at Chronicle Books]

Publisher: Chronicle Books

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Ancient Provence: Layers of History in Southern France

I began actively photographing Roman remains in southern France four years ago. I am interested in depicting anachronism–the ways in which contemporary cultures collide with their past. Roman civilization forms much of the foundation for western civilization by way of engineering, language, law and customs. My photographs refer to these connections. Many Roman roads and bridges…[more]

Introduction by George Dimock
Published by: June Bateman Gallery

Contact June Bateman Gallery to purchase.

Pigeon Hill: Then & Now

Book & Exhibition – Video

Texts by Keith F. Davis, Jean-Louis Poitevin, Jeffrey A. Wolin
Publisher: Kehrer Verlag

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Pigeon Hill Links 

https://www.zdf.de/kultur/aspekte/aspekte-clip-1-110.html 
http://www.slate.com/blogs/behold/2015/04/10/jeff_woling_pigeon_hill_portraits_then_and_now_examine_the_residents_of.html

http://indianapublicmedia.org/arts/pigeon-hill-living-tale/

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kPQjUlCZFIc

http://www.tk-21.com/Pigeon-Hill-Portraits-Then-and-Now

https://vimeo.com/84324735

http://edelmangallery.com/exhibitions-and-projects/exhibition-pages/2014/jeffrey-wolin-pigeon-hill-then-and-now.html

http://www.urbanautica.com/post/101659505024/portraying-memory-photographs-with-a-text

http://blogbuzzter.de/2015/04/pigeon-hill-then-now-2-moment-aufnahmen-in-20-jahren/

http://esquire.ru/pigeon-hill-portraits

http://museemagazine.com/features/2016/6/23/word-play

Pham Hung Ca

“We marched down from our home in Haiphong in the north to Cu Chi west of Saigon. We had many troops around Saigon. My unit, Cat Bi, was based a few kilometers from the tunnels at Cu Chi. I fought as an infantry officer but I was also responsible for speaking to the troops to keep their morale up and encourage bravery. At the same time I spoke to them of tactics and analyzed the outcome of previous battles in order to improve our chances in the next one.

Just two days after we arrived in Cu Chi, we joined the fighting. Our forces attacked an American tank unit on Road Number 22 that runs from Tay Ninh to Saigon. We expected the tanks to move towards Saigon but they changed direction. One of the lessons we learned right away was the need to have fallback plans for every battle. In this case we weren’t prepared for the American tanks to change direction.

We left our base at 6 p.m. and arrived in the area by 3 a.m. It was the dry season so the soil was very hard-you had to be strong to dig a foxhole deep enough so that only your head was above ground. The weaker soldiers were unable to dig deep enough to completely shield themselves but weak or strong, we all had strong determination to fight.

About 8 a.m. on May 6, 1968, the fight began. It was our first battle. We destroyed seven American tanks with B-40 Rocket Propelled Grenades. An eighth tank was destroyed with a Chinese-made hand grenade-we had to approach very close, about two meters. In addition to the eight tanks, we shot down three helicopters. Cat Bi suffered 23 casualties, dead and wounded.

We withdrew in the night and returned the next morning with local villagers to collect the bodies. We buried the dead in a field. After the war, burial units returned to the area to dig up the remains for a proper burial.

I was wounded twice. The first time was September 1968, when Cat Bi attacked an American base. As we cut the fence a bullet grazed my head. The second time was more serious. We surrounded the Americans but they called in artillery. I was hit in the back by shrapnel. One large and several small pieces of metal are still lodged in my chest.”

Nguyen Van Phuoc

“About midnight a helicopter landed and American soldiers entered our village, Xuan Khe. On that night when the soldiers moved into the village they took Mr. Tuyen, an old man, to the bank of the river and struck him on the head, killing him immediately. Then they killed Mr. Tuyen’s wife. They moved to another home, arrested Mr. To, Mr. Huong and Mrs. Thai. They beat the men, then shot all three. In another house they killed Mrs Loi and her three children. Next door they killed Mrs. Xu and her two children. Then they shot my mother in the head, killing her. Her name was Lan. The American soldiers killed 13 people that night, all women, children and old people. This was in August 1967. I was 9 years old.

Three days earlier an American force had entered the village and set fire to all our houses. They wanted to relocate us due to the presence of guerillas and local army forces in the area. They were clearing the area of civilians so we couldn’t provide support for them. We moved to another village but quickly returned home.

On the day of the killings an American patrol was attacked by guerillas on the mountain about 5 kilometers from here. We were in our bunkers in the village but we could hear the shooting. We were still in our underground bunkers that night when the helicopter landed. First the soldiers threw grenades in the bunkers. As the villagers came out they were arrested, then killed.

I was in a bunker when I heard all the noise. I came up and saw what was happening about 50 meters away. I hid with my younger brother in a large clay jar that my family used to store rice. I ran with my brother on my back—that’s when I saw the soldiers beating Mr. Tuyen by the river. It was the middle of the night but the moon was full.

My brother and I went to stay with our grandmother. When the Americans set fire to our village three days earlier, she went to stay at a village 10 kilometers away and on the night the Americans attacked, she was still at that village. From that night my grandmother raised my brother and me.”

Tran Dung Hung

“After I graduated from high school I went to work at a tea plantation in Hoa Binh. I met Lan there and we became close friends. We enlisted in the army on the same day in 1967 and walked south together for two months on the Ho Chi Minh Trail. I was smaller than Lan so he helped me carry my gun. He’d have one in front and one behind and told me it was easier to carry two—they balanced each other out. But actually he carried my gun because he loved me and wanted to help. We were in the same company and fought the enemy together in Quang Tri south of the DMZ.

One afternoon Lan and I agreed that if I lived and he did not that I would please remember to visit his home and talk with his father to tell him what happened. I should not tell his mother because she had suffered a heart attack and her heart was weak.

In 1971 I returned home in the north but Lan remained behind in Quang Tri. While I was in my hometown one of my friends from the war visited and told me that Lan died. So we went to visit Lan’s family but didn’t tell them Lan had died. Lan’s mother asked that my friend bring Lan a gift and we were afraid that if he didn’t take the gift and pretend to deliver it to her son, she would suspect Lan had died. She sent tobacco as a gift and we knew another soldier in the unit could use the tobacco.

A few years after Lan’s death the government sent a letter to his parents informing them of his death. His father received the letter but kept silent and did not tell his wife. He kept the letter hidden in a box for a few years but Lan’s mother eventually found out about her son’s death anyway.

I first began to write poetry in 1967 after I enlisted. I wrote about love, friendship, family and war. I became more passionate about these things because of my war experiences. Over time the poems became more powerful, more passionate and more human because of the war.”

Nguyen Chi Phi

“In 1967, our unit attacked the base at Trieu Phong in Quang Tri province. It was a base of southern regime soldiers and American military advisors who were collecting information about our forces. My unit was Dac Cong, Special Forces. Our responsibility was to approach close to the target and attack. I was a 2nd Lieutenant at that time.

A few days earlier we had sent soldiers to observe and make maps of the enemy positions. Using these maps we approached the base, which had twelve layers of barbed wire fence. On the other side of the base, another Dac Cong unit prepared to attack. We broke through three layers of fence but the fourth layer was illuminated by a bright searchlight. We couldn’t penetrate any further without being seen so we changed our plan.

The Dac Cong unit on the other side of the base began their assault. A comrade and I began to throw grenades with string fuses to destroy the fences. We got close to one watchtower when the soldiers inside began to open fire and threw a grenade at us. I jumped aside as it exploded and then threw my explosives inside the watchtower. A piece of shrapnel hit my back. When we had gotten past the first layer of fence I stepped on a pungi stick, which slightly injured my foot. So I was injured twice in the battle.

After I was hit by shrapnel, the Saigon soldiers counterattacked. I ordered my troops to shoot out the searchlight but they couldn’t so I took a B-40 grenade launcher without the round, quickly climbed the tower and smashed the light so we could withdraw without being seen. As the unit leader I accepted the possibility of my death in order to protect my unit. My comrades carried me out since I was wounded. I was taken to a hospital in the jungle for one month and then spent three months in rehabilitation at another base in Quang Tri. I was awarded the status of National Hero of the Army.

Right after the battle we returned to the village nearby where we were living among civilians. The villagers killed a cow to make a feast for us to celebrate our victory. The soldiers and villagers were like fish and water—we depended upon each other. Not long after we attacked the base at Trieu Phong the American and Saigon troops came and killed the villagers for supporting us.”

Nguyen Thi Tham

“I joined Biet Dong, the resistance force in the cities of the south, in 1966 when I was 16. As a cover, I worked in Da Nang as a housekeeper for a family that owned a construction business. I cleaned the house and took care of the children. But my real mission was to dig bunkers in safe houses to hide weapons I smuggled in along with other girls in Biet Dong. We guided soldiers into Da Nang and found bunkers for them to hide in. The family I was housekeeper for did not know of my work for Biet Dong. After a year I had to tell them the truth: that I had joined the army to fight for liberation. They had suspected something was wrong, with so many people coming and going all the time. I asked them to support my mission and they agreed.

Before Tet in 1968, the police suspected me and I was arrested on the street and held for 15 days. They questioned me but I told them I was just a housekeeper and didn’t say anything about my real work. I was tortured but told them nothing.

On the morning of December 26, 1968, I was at the house of Mother Nhu in a bunker under the floor. A spy had denounced Mother Nhu and police surrounded her house. They broke in, arrested her son and beat him. He didn’t say anything and they took him away. Then they arrested and beat Mother Nhu. She also revealed nothing about her activities for Biet Dong. The police shot her in her home.

I was hiding in the bunker with two other soldiers. We could hear everything that was going on upstairs. After they killed Mother Nhu we burst out of the bunker and threw grenades at the police. Some were killed immediately as we fled the house. There were many police in the area and a helicopter overhead told us to surrender. The police shot tear gas to try to capture us but we fired our weapons at them. American soldiers began to chase us too.

While we were running, one of my comrades was badly wounded. We tried to carry him but he said he couldn’t move. He asked for two grenades and we left him. As the police and soldiers approached he detonated the grenades killing himself and several soldiers.

The whole area was surrounded—they wanted to capture us alive. As it grew dark, I covered myself head to toe in mud and leaves. My hair was long then and disturbed me while I was fleeing so I cut it off with a knife that I found in someone’s abandoned home. A few pieces of shrapnel from an M79 grenade landed nearby and struck me in the head and rear end. I used mud to stop the bleeding. Along with my remaining comrade I crawled slowly on the road to the cemetery. Soldiers ran right by but didn’t notice us. It took from 6 p.m. to 4 a.m. the next day to escape.”

Ho Phuc Ngon

“The first battle I fought in was in 1954 in Quang Nam, just outside Da Nang. Our forces defeated the French at the Battle of Bo Bo. I served on a suicide team of three men-we were sure we would die. We wore red scarves over our shoulders to signify that we were Cam Tu, suicide fighters. We carried explosives onto the French base. When we arrived at the base that night I was spotted by a French soldier. We fought hand-to-hand but I was young and trained in martial arts and I prevailed.

Before the battle, our suicide team had high spirits; we were determined to carry out our mission. We were fortunate that our troops killed all the French soldiers and we did not have to detonate the explosives we carried. That is why I am still alive today.

I remained in the army after the French War. When the American War began, my job was to penetrate the American bases. I was Dac Cong, Special Forces. I was leader of a four-man team. We would quietly approach the bases at night, crawl in slowly and cut the fences-there could be three or four layers of barbed wire. We disabled the flares and mines surrounding the bases so our main force could attack.

In March 1966, American reinforcements arrived in Da Nang and about 25 artillery pieces were sent to build up a base at the village at Thanh Vinh. They were 105 mm and 155 mm artillery.

At midnight on June 17, 1966, we attacked the base at Thanh Vinh, 5 kilometers from Da Nang. I led a group of about 60 Dac Cong. We broke into the base from three directions and destroyed seven artillery pieces. The battle was short-it was over in 25 minutes. I fought in many battles in both the French and American Wars.”

Nguyen Vin Luc

“We walked the Ho Chi Minh Trail through Laos to get south of the DMZ. I was in Da Nang, Quang Ngai and Quang Tin. We lived in tunnels during periods of bombing. Otherwise our quarters were built half-below and half-above the ground and we stayed there when there was no bombing. It was in a thick forest. We weren’t worried about being attacked by ground troops.

The tunnels were “A” shaped, 2-3 meters deep and 3-4 meters wide-we could walk upright in them. There were many tunnels-they were connected by trenches dug into the ground but uncovered.

During battles I would fight as a regular soldier-I had an AK-47. But when someone was wounded I was a medic. I would give them something for the pain, dress their wounds and help carry them back to the base for further treatment. Sometimes the American helicopters would fire rockets at our base but they never hit near the hospital. They never found our tunnels in that thick forest.

In that part of Vietnam during the monsoons we got heavy rain. One time two of us were carrying a wounded comrade on a litter and it was raining very hard. A helicopter shot at us. We hid my friend by the base of a tree and covered him with our bodies to protect him from the rockets. I was hit once in the head with shrapnel but it wasn’t serious.

If someone died we also carried them back four or five hundred meters from the battle zone where someone else took care of the body. The dead were buried in the south and a map was made of the graves so families could locate their loved ones later and give them a proper burial.

During the war we didn’t have enough food to eat so our bodies were not as strong as usual. We all got malaria but we didn’t have enough medicine to treat the disease. It took until two years after the war before the malaria was completely gone from my body. I lost all my hair; my eyes turned yellow and my skin green. All of us caught the disease. We had to fight anyway.

After the war I returned home to work as a farmer and rebuild my hometown-so many years of fighting but now the world is at peace.”

Ngo Huy Phat

“During the Tet Offensive of 1968, I served as Chief of the Division to organize the plan for the Battle of RN 9 near the DMZ in Quang Tri province. The purpose was to stop the movements of the American soldiers so they could not cross Route 9, which ran from the coast to Laos.

We had sent in regiment after regiment until we had the whole division in the area. Finally we got closer and closer to Dong Ha. Our unit faced difficulties. The American defenses were very strong and the area near the base was just sand with nothing to conceal our troops. So we dug in under the sand at night. During the day the sunshine made the temperature very hot.

Everything was very difficult for the Vietnamese soldiers but we appeared suddenly and the Americans were surprised by our attack. The battle was Tien Tanh of Cua Viet-it means the surprise attack of the Cua Viet River. Our troops were buried in the sand the whole day and that night we came out and surprised the Americans.

We knew very well the organization of the American defenses in the Cua Viet area, which was protected by an electric fence. The water level in the river was not so deep. The American side had artillery and bombs all day and even at night so to avoid that we went where the water was deeper. We attacked where the American bombs and artillery had damaged the fence. We went through the wires.

We understood the schedule of the bombings and artillery and waited until they stopped. We took off all our clothes and crossed the river with everything carried on our heads. When we got across the bombing started again. Once we got to the other side of the fence we put our clothes on.

Our special forces that led the attack were naked and covered with mud from head to toe. They coordinated their movements to make no noise. During the artillery barrage if one of the soldiers was wounded or killed the one behind him would carry him back but always we were moving forward. We had to do everything we could to fulfill the mission.”

For months we kept the supply line cut to the American base at Khe Sanh. The Americans had to focus on trying to get troops and supplies to Khe Sanh.”

Le Thi Duc

“All the adults in my family were still in Hanoi-the children were staying outside the city to avoid the bombings. At 10 or 10:30 on the night of December 26, 1972, when we heard the anti-aircraft guns and then the sirens we rushed to the shelters. I heard a big explosion and the shelter collapsed and buried us. In my shelter there were four of us: my older brother, my sister and her husband, and me. They all died-only I was rescued.

When I woke up my legs couldn’t move because of the rubble. My back was bent because of the weight of the debris. I was unconscious for six hours from the time of the explosion until I was awakened by the voices of the rescuers. I spent the next year in the hospital.

On that day, my father and younger brother, who had been staying in the countryside, came back to Hanoi to get food for the children. My father returned to the countryside but my brother stayed in Hanoi that evening and was killed. He was fifteen. My mother died too-they were in a nearby shelter.

There were many shelters all over the city. Every night for over a week when the sirens went off we headed to the shelters immediately. We were all very worried but we stayed in Hanoi to work. I was employed by the government.

When I returned to my home after I was released from the hospital, the whole neighborhood still lay in ruins. My home had collapsed. We lived in a tent and collected the bricks to rebuild our home. I didn’t marry after my sister died. She and her husband had four small children between the ages of two and six. I spent my time raising her children as my own. They are my children now.”

Dao Ngoc Khue

“We left Da Nang in March 1975. I was in command of a unit of weapons technicians. When we passed through Nha Trang we were welcomed by the civilians. We were happy because we received orders from the Army command to speed up our drive to Saigon. We felt like a typhoon moving quickly south.

By noon on April 30, my unit was at Tan Son Nhut Airport outside Saigon. Two helicopters had just taken off and we captured a plane with the engine still running and no one on board. We secured the airport and in the afternoon we moved towards the city to secure the Ministry of Defense building. We met with very little resistance along the way.

When we reached Saigon, civilians crowded into the streets to welcome us. They waved flags and offered us drinks and food. We asked civilians for directions to the Ministry of Defense. I remember one girl, about 19, on a motorbike offered to show us the way. She took one of the soldiers on the back of her bike and led us. All the trucks followed her. By the time we arrived, the Ministry of Defense had been abandoned. After we secured it my unit moved on to the intelligence services building and spent the night there; we secured all the files.

On the day of liberation, the 30th of April all Vietnamese were happy and shouted, ‘Independence!’ We finally had freedom. I had fought in the French War and the American War. I had been badly burned by napalm. I shared the joy but I had my own private feelings as well. My family had lived in Saigon throughout the war and I hadn’t seen them in many years. The day after liberation I went looking for my parents.

I went to the area where they lived when I left to fight but they were not there any longer. I asked the neighbors and they sent me to another place, and then another. Finally I found my parents. I knelt down and told them, ‘I fulfilled my duty to our nation but I failed to take care of you.’ My parents said, ‘No, no, no. Stand up. You fulfilled your obligation to our country and that was more important than your responsibility to your family.’ We hugged each other and wept.”

Bui Thi Tron

“For three years I escorted the soldiers from the north to the south and the wounded from south to north. My unit was based in the jungle, one day’s walk from Da Nang, south of the DMZ. We carried the wounded on litters from base to base in the jungle. It took the whole day. We left in the morning from our base and arrived at another in the late afternoon. A soldier went ahead to clear a trail for us with a machete. Ten of us carried five soldiers. They were seriously wounded-some were missing limbs.

It was hard for women. At first we marched south from Thai Binh province to the south, always on foot, through the jungle along the Ho Chi Minh Trail. We would rest every ten days and take a shower every ten days. For women to go that long without a shower after walking in the jungle, you can imagine how hard that was. We had to carry everything-food, weapons-the same as the men. At that time I weighed 50 kgs.

Many women volunteered during the war. I thought everyone should defend our country. It was hard work and also dangerous but I felt happy to do it. Many times we were in the area where B-52’s were bombing and sometimes we were surrounded by American soldiers. Once, in 1972, our unit was carrying wounded soldiers through the jungle in Quang Binh province when B-52 bombers came in and we had to move fast, carrying wounded and our weapons. That night soldiers from our unit, some of them women, were wounded, so they stayed behind until they could be retrieved.

I was near the airport at Da Nang when the city was liberated on March 29, 1975. I went into Da Nang to join in the celebration on April 1. Everyone was delighted-I can’t describe how happy we were. The people of Da Nang greeted us and were very happy. The women wore ao dai, traditional Vietnamese clothing. They waved flags and threw flowers. We knew the war would soon be over.

The jungle we operated in was sprayed often with Agent Orange. The trees lost their leaves and the people from that area told us it was because the water was contaminated by dioxin. Now my health is poor. My stomach is not so good and I have pain in my backside and up and down my legs, It started more than ten years ago.

The war has already passed and we try to rebuild our country but still the war victims of Agent Orange have problems up to the third generation of the veterans: our children and grandchildren. Please tell the American people about the victims here who are still suffering.”

Le Nam Phong & Nguyen Van Thai

Phong: At Dien Bien Phu in 1954 we used new tactics to defeat the French. We attacked Him Lam and Doc Lap hills and cut the airport off. The airport was like the stomach of the French. By cutting it off we cut off their means of resupply. Then we squeezed the French into one part of the base. My main responsibility was to organize our troops to dig trenches from the surrounding hills into the airport. We captured many French soldiers in the hills in the first round of the battle. The French fired artillery at our positions and injured and killed many of our soldiers. The French brought in paratroopers. They had better weapons, planes and tanks but we were determined to defeat them.

Thai: I was involved in the plans for the first attack at Dien Bien Phu. We drove the French out and years later in July 1965, I moved south of the DMZ as the American forces began to arrive in large numbers. We were stationed along Road Number 9. I was responsible for analyzing our battle plans and keeping up the morale of the troops. We surrounded the American base at Khe Sanh and attacked Tacon Airport at the start of Tet ’68. We hoped to draw many American forces from all around the south to Khe Sanh. That was our plan so Vietnamese inside cities in the south would rise up against the Saigon regime.

In April 1968, our unit broke off the siege of Khe Sanh and went to Kon Tum in the Central Highlands. We were reinforced by fresh troops from the north who remained in the area around Khe Sanh. Our goal had been to tie up American troops and resources defending the base even as we attacked cities all over the south. It was the biggest battle of the war. We used large artillery every day against the Americans. At the same time American B-52’s bombed us and American artillery shelled our positions. At first the B-52’s struck a few hours a day but by the end of the battle they were bombing around the clock. Many men died on both sides.

Phong: In March ’75, we liberated Phuoc Long province and drew closer to Saigon, 100 kilometers away. I was a Senior Lieutenant Colonel and my division was to seize the Presidential Palace and raise the Vietnamese flag on the roof but we were held up at a bridge outside the city and arrived at noon, half an hour after another unit had already captured the palace.

Thai: I was in the same division as Phong. We arrived at the Presidential Palace 30 minutes after it had been captured. We went through Bien Hoa but our tanks were too large to cross the bridge there so we had to go around a different way. Our forces approached Saigon from five directions. Our division had been given the honor of entering Saigon first, capturing the Presidential Palace and raising the flag because our unit was distinguished in the French War-we captured the French general at Dien Bien Phu and raised the flag over his bunker.

Phong was in charge of the fighting while my main role was developing strategy and encouraging the troops. We lived and fought together during the war so we developed a close friendship.

Phong: In my life as a soldier I had two major accomplishments: in 1954 at Dien Bien Phu in the decisive battle against the French and in 1975 when we liberated Saigon. Many citizens waved flags and cheered as we entered the city. The Saigon regime soldiers fled. It was the second time in my life as a soldier that I was happy. I was glad that Thai was with me to share our victory.

Hue Ngoc Tran

“When I was a kid in Hue after World War II, I witnessed the French and Viet Minh doing bad things. The Viet Minh ambushed the French, captured prisoners, took their possessions and buried them alive. On the other side I saw the French burn houses, kill civilians, rape women-in front of my eyes. Those scenes were carved in my mind and I decided when I grow up I will serve in the Army. I was admitted to the National Military

In 1968 I commanded the Black Panther Company, Hac Bao, 1st ARVN Division Reaction Force. We were in Hue during the first Tet Offensive when all 44 provinces of South Vietnam were under attack. They wanted to occupy Hue at any price. We had the 1st ARVN Division in Hue but the NVA still tried to get into the Citadel. The battle lasted 25 days. We fought using new tactics, in the street, block by block. I’m telling you this in a few words but in those days each minute, each second would last a long time. You would advance just a few feet. It was bloody. We fought with hand grenades, bayonets-close combat.

First night we saved some US soldiers. They were security at the small airfield at Hue City. The airfield was overrun by NVA and they ran to my unit. We took care of them. They had a language difference, big guys, and could have been killed by friendly fire. I received a Silver Star from General Abrams, US Military Commander in Vietnam. My government presented me with the Medal of Honor for the Battle of Hue.

In 1971 during the Battle of Lam Son 719, our regiment’s mission was to protect Highway 9 from Dong Ha to Khe Sanh. The ARVN Airborne and Marine Divisions were assigned the front axis across the border in Tchepone, Laos, but they were attacked and cut down. I was ordered to take my battalion, drop into the main operation and attack the NVA.

Before we landed B52’s had dropped bombs. We controlled the main road to Tchepone and after a couple of days we were headed south to help two battalions surrounded by the NVA. We helicoptered in and secured an area for them to withdraw back to Vietnam. My battalion went to help 1st Battalion 3rd Regiment but then we were surrounded by the NVA. Three times helicopters came to try to get us but a lot of choppers were shot down-we couldn’t get out. It was summer and there was no water-we could not survive without water.

I’m left-handed. When my battalion was surrounded I was holding the handset in my left hand communicating with Cobra helicopters. I called them to counter attack. One mortar hit between me and my radio operator. I was thrown backwards and hit with many pieces of shrapnel. Finally I was captured and spent the next 13 years in prison camp.”

Hieu Vinh

“I joined the army at 18 so I could choose the branch I wanted, which was the Air Force. I became a helicopter gunship pilot stationed at Nha Trang near Cam Ranh Bay. I was the squadron leader. We escorted troops on combat missions and destroyed many enemy targets. There were many battles.

In April 1975, just before Saigon fell, I was sent with three choppers to protect Tan Son Nhut airbase in Saigon. In the evening of April 29 around 6 o’clock we saw two South Vietnamese jets fly over Tan Son Nhut and drop bombs on the base—they must have been commandeered by the enemy. About 2 o’clock in the morning, the NVA shelled the base with artillery and mortars—thousands of rounds. I jumped in a foxhole and stayed for 3-4 hours—the shells were exploding everywhere.

At 8 a.m. on April 30, we gathered to discuss the situation. I saw a C-119 gunship in the air get hit by a surface-to-air missile and crash in front of my eyes. Two hours later they sent me with three choppers to fly around Tan Son Nhut base to see what was happening and protect the base. I realized it was hopeless and decided to fly to Con Son Island. We got lost on the way there and almost ran out of fuel but we were lucky and were picked up by a British tanker. We only had 20 minutes of fuel left.

My family was left behind in Vietnam. I felt guilty that I didn’t take them with me when I flew out of the country. For ten years afterwards, I dreamed constantly about flying my helicopter to take my family to freedom. In some dreams I landed on top of my house to pick up my family. Once they arrived here in the U.S. the dreams stopped.

We fought the war but we could not win because the Americans gave up on the war. If we had enough ammunition and weapons we never would have lost the war. The American government abandoned us and left us there to fend for ourselves. We don’t blame America. We were just victims of the political situation.”