Hai Phong Harmony

By By Alan Oliver

Myself and the 'Old Sea Cook' George Murray took ourselves on a 'seek and enjoy' mission to Vietnam to discover what had become of one of the Seamen's Union's finest acts of humanitarian internationalism, born from the pockets of its 5000 rank and file members. This surge of individual donations and ships' rolling funds answered the call of its leaders E.V. Elliott and Pat Geraghty in 1974 to help rebuild the infrastructure of one of the most war ravaged nations ever subjected to such horrific barbarity from land, sea and air; the same barbarity that now afflicts Iraq!

From memory, funds were to be dedicated to what would be of the most benefit to the children who had suffered unbelievable physical and mental harm from the near ceaseless low and high level terror raids that laid waste to so much of their land. Each aircraft in the giant B52 flocks could drop 30 tons of bombs from almost beyond sight, and while this immensity of explosives could break down man's strongest buildings, they could never break down the will of the Vietnamese people to be the masters of their own land. They are a very tenacious people! The $76,000 (today maybe $300-400,000) was used to build a kindergarten in bomb stricken Hai Phong, which is the port for Hanoi.

I noticed a sign at the big pile of US aircraft wreckage at the Hanoi War Museum stating that parts of 82 B52s blown out of the sky were included in this wretched heap. These fundamentally terror weapons have been flying (amazingly) for some 55 years and are now operated only where the 'bombed upon' (Afghanistan and Iraq peoples etc) unlike the Vietnamese, can't fire back.

An old expression of E.V. Elliott's (everything evolves around the time, place and circumstances) came to our rescue in Saigon when an old shipmate and strong SUA member Les Williams (now a quite successful exporter of furniture from Vietnam) asked his wife Lien to enquire if the kindergarten was still operating, and Jesus did she give things a stir.

She had not only been in the Viet Cong front line as a young girl but her father had been a scriptwriter for the President who followed Ho Chi Minh. So she added her political influence to her cultural identity (first Vietnamese to get a BA in music, as well as being a famous concert pianist who learned on a piano cramped underground in a hewn out of the earth Conservatorium, built to avoid the bombing of nearby Hanoi) and gave us one big push.

Not only was our objective still operating but upon our arrival at Hanoi airport, a car provided by the Confederation of Labour (their ACTU) was waiting with an interpreter to race us straight to Hai Phong. Here we were greeted by local trade union officials and taken to a special lunch and official greetings. They were extremely appreciative of the SUA come MUA's historic help.

Here me and George had to stress that we were not officials of the MUA, but just a couple of burnt out old seafarers who had never lost their curiosity about the development, success and hopefully still existence of our long ago contribution to the cause. Our original plan was to have a casual drift around the premises to enjoy the fact that it was still operating and serving the people. Instead we got the full VIP treatment but I wish such could have been reserved for the surviving crews of the Boonaroo and Jeparit (better throw in Geraghty) who had refused to sail any ship carrying arms to be unleashed upon children like these wonderfully appealing examples of Vietnam's next generation.

From 1966 until the 1971 moral mutiny of Harry Black's wharfie gang's to ever again load arms on the Jeparit, it was a bloody long and lonely period for the Seamen's Union leadership and membership to maintain their industrial stand (as far as I can remember, the only trade union in the world to do so) against this evil conflict on which Vietnamese history confers the title of The American War.

I was in court and at the big wharf demo when the Boonaroo was ordered by Canberra and the ACTU to go to a war, which we knew to be an obscenity on the human conscience. I remember stories of US patrol boats threatening to machine gun children in canoes who were trying to sell anything (a daily event) to the Jeparit's crew in Vung Tau. Even in terrible battle zones people have to find a source of income to get food into their mouths to survive.

Some of our members were so embittered by this bastardry they began emptying the spud locker by hurling its contents at the patrol boats, along with every insult their tongues could muster. Knowing the infamy US forces have in being gun happy, this was a remarkably stupid thing to do, but does show (perhaps like Palestinian kids throwing rocks at tanks) that conscience and the brooding anger against injustice can force humans into spontaneous actions that prevail over the normal all powerful senses of survival. Enough of war!

The kindergarten was quite a big appealing building that handled some 500 kids, and had quite a number of facilities for the entertainment and education of them. A staff meeting explained that the local unions had managed its operations since inception, but now the local council had become its manager. After a few hours of very pleasing, very gratifying enlightenment in meeting staff and youngsters, it was time to head back to Hanoi.

I had done a wander down to Argentine in an East German ship, the Halberstadt in 1962. Apparently in 1972 it was bombed and near sunk in Hai Phong harbour by the same B52s. To my real disappointment the local War Museum was closed that day. A newspaper photo of the Boonaroo demo was such a wharf action shot that I had two blown up giant size and framed. One hung in the SUA rooms (now in the Sussex Inlet school) and one in my home until I was asked to present it to a Vietnamese delegation. Some of them were from Hai Phong so I had hoped to also see it in the museum.

It always intrigues me how the Vietnamese avoid the sun; we cook ourselves with it; they dodge it. It was fascinating to get up in the dark to stroll around Hanoi's superb lakes and see tens of thousands in shorts out exercising. This happens all over Vietnam but seems more appealing there, as it is enhanced by the lake's beauty. Then as the sun's rays hit the water they all flee home to discard the shorts and pull on long pants and long sleeved shirts before going to work. 'To each their own'; but we had 28 sockless days there with shorts all the way.

After saying goodbye to our very competent, very pleasant young female interpreter, we began our retreat south by plane to Da Nang - Hoi An before two nights in trains to Nha Trang - Saigon. The narrow gauge ensures you have a sleep enticing back massage as you slide and slip around the mattress, but it's a top way to meet and converse with the locals.

While in the pleasant and highly popular tourist place of Hoi An we met another Aussie (Robyn Morley) who has taken such a liking to the place that she has stayed anchored to it. We met her on the beach where family run seafood cafes (consisting mainly of a tin roof) supply top food straight out of those amazing round Coracles that paddle far out. Imagine 85 million people living in Victoria, for that is the population compression for the similar sized land mass of Vietnam, and they still have a long way to go to approach our living standard, and many still fall through the holes.

Robyn is dedicated to helping children suffering rough and terrible complaints -diseases that the State at this stage of its development can't adequately provide for. She has created her own charity, which has been a financial struggle until it recently received State recognition. We learnt a lot in taking her to dinner, threw into the kitty and will return to urge her on every time we hit Hoi An.

I have been to Vietnam three times in three years and will return every year while ever the dignity giving, lifesaver of the Seafarers' Retirement Fund keeps paying well. I really enjoy the nation and its peoples of whom I have seen good (miles ahead) and bad aspects. At the very famous historic spot where the tank crashed the gate of the Presidential Palace at war's end I got dipped for $200, which made it even more historically memorable. Even an attempt at credit card fraud hasn't dented my liking for the people and their ways.

The groups I travel with dodge hotel tourist bars like Bush and Howard dodge the truth. We go where the locals go which are big beer gardens, where the beer is cold, tasty and cheap and the food is hot and tasty and equally cheap. As a matter of fact everything in Vietnam is cheap; everything except the people who are its richest item.

As of now myself and George intend to organise a delegation of MUA old and young, retirees and 'on the jobbers', wives and partners, and others who have interest, to do a two or three week tour of the kindergarten and other appealing parts of Vietnam in the fore part of this year. We have had communications with the Deputy Director of International Relations at the Confederation of Labour and he would be happy to welcome such a delegation. He has also stated that we could use their tourist agency to help keep costs as practical as possible.

We already have three couples ready to leap, as well as singular identities. So if there are more who wish to travel, learn, enjoy and take pride in our maritime history, in their discovery of a truly pleasant land and people, kindly write to me at:

Alan Oliver

54/7-17 Newton St

Alexandria 2015 NSW

Phone: 9516 3148

Email: ollyerko@tpg.com.au