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Searching for Binh Hoa
Hoping to find an obscure Vietnam War killing field, our correspondent discovers that some lessons of history teach themselves.

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By Rolf Potts

Aug. 10, 1999 |   I was in Danang, Vietnam, with a day to kill before heading overland to Laos, so I decided to try to find Binh Hoa. The problem with this plan was that nobody in Danang seemed to know what Binh Hoa was.

Nguyen, a handsome, youngish guy who ran a travel office near the Danang riverfront, was the fifth tour operator I tried.

"Binh Hoa," he said. "Is it a place?"

"It's an old massacre site from the war," I told him. "It's not far from My Lai."

Nguyen brightened a bit. "My Lai! I can take you to My Lai, but I don't know Binh Hoa."

"Well I've heard that the two places are in the same area. Do you think we can go to My Lai first, then ask around until we find someone who can show us to Binh Hoa?"

"We can try, but even My Lai is not very much. Just a small park with a museum and some paintings. And it's very sad. Maybe it's better to go to the beach. The beach is more interesting."

"For me, Binh Hoa is interesting."

Also Visit our Vietnam: 25 Years Later site for more articles like this one.

"If you want to see war things, maybe you should go to the DMZ. Camp Carroll, or the Vinh Moc Tunnels. These are closer and cheaper from Danang."

"How much is it to Binh Hoa?"

"For a minivan to My Lai, $50, plus more to find Binh Hoa. Maybe $25 extra. If you know other people who want to go, you can split the cost with them."

I already knew that my odds of finding other people to go with me -- even to My Lai -- were pretty slim in Danang, since the tourist high season in Vietnam was over. And $75 was more than I cared to spend on a day of sightseeing. So I thanked Nguyen and headed back onto the streets.

Every student of the Vietnam War knows that on April 16, 1968, American soldiers under the command of Lt. William Calley killed 504 unarmed Vietnamese civilians in a series of hamlets near My Lai. The subsequent cover-up, investigation and court-martial hearing had a profound effect on the American perception of the war.

Few people know, however, that -- 15 months before My Lai -- 502 unarmed Vietnamese civilians were similarly murdered in an area called Binh Hoa. The incident is well documented, but few parties -- even Vietnam's Communist government -- have made much of an effort to preserve its memory. This is because, unlike My Lai, the Binh Hoa massacre was carried out by South Korean mercenaries.

To be honest, I didn't know much else about the Binh Hoa massacre at the time, and maybe that's why I'd suddenly decided to go there. Perhaps, I reasoned, there would be more to learn from 500 people who were killed and forgotten than from 500 people who were killed and immortalized in the American conscience.

Walking back up the riverfront, I returned to the Danang Hotel, thinking perhaps one of the moto drivers there would be willing to take me to Binh Hoa. I didn't relish the thought of riding two hours down the madness of Vietnam Highway 1 on the back of a motorcycle, but it seemed to be my only option.

When I arrived, I was immediately accosted by Khue, who'd motored me around in search of an Internet cafe the previous evening. He greeted me the same way he did the day before: "We go to China Beach now? Marble Mountains? Very beautiful!"

"Not today," I said. "How much to go to Binh Hoa?"

Khue wrinkled his brow. "Binh Hoa?"

"It's the site of an old massacre from the war," I said for the sixth time that day. "It's not far from My Lai."

"My Lai is very far," Khue said. "I don't like to go there. China Beach is better. Maybe you saw China Beach on TV. Very beautiful!"

I gestured over at the other moto drivers lounging just off the hotel entrance. "Will any of those guys take me to Binh Hoa?"

Khue shrugged and walked over to them. He returned with a mop-haired fellow who sported a wispy mustache and sunglasses. "This is my friend," Khue said. "He can't speak English, but he knows Binh Hoa. Only $30 to go there. Very cheap."

Indeed, the price was cheaper than what Nguyen quoted, but Khue wasn't offering me a minivan. Plus, the language barrier was a definite downer.

"How about $15?" I offered.

Khue conferred with sunglasses, and they talked for several minutes. Finally, Khue smiled and turned to me. "OK," he said. "My friend told me the way to Binh Hoa. I will take you for $20, but you give me half now."

Surprised with this sudden turn of fortune, I gave Khue 130,000 dong (the rough equivalent of $10) and climbed on the back of his motorcycle. Ten minutes later, we were out of the city, cruising down the gorgeous emerald curves of the Vietnamese coast.

Next page | Killing fields and other massacres