Sunday, May 7, 1972
Running, Running - To Nowhere At All
DA NANG, Vietnam --The long column of destitute refugees outside Da Nang Friday had its own peculiar form of pulsing movement.It was as if a strong undertow had effortlessly carried along anything thrust into it. There were the little green Lambrettas, the heavy Army trucks, the buses marked with stops no longer made -Dong Ha and Quang Tri.The current sluggishly turned into a whirlpool -the vehicles turned an endless circle down a street fronted by tin-roofed shacks. There were onlookers -some of whom looked sympathetic and others smug. The war, other than an occasional rocket that shrieked at the huge American base just up the road, had not touched them.Hundreds into thousands of refugees, the ones who fled down Highway 1 from conquered Quang Tri and threatened Hue, were pouring into a dusty little slum on the haunches of Da Nang. A South Vietnamese officer supervising the grim spectacle couldn't stop to hazard a guess at their numbers. He had enough to worry about.The trucks turned the slow-moving circle until all had been carefully shifted through three checkpoints. The refugees would be prodded, questioned, and impersonally searched, by young soldiers who wore camouflaged, dappled uniforms and had no time for delicate courtesies.Most of the penniless, who owned only what they carried or wore, would be passed on and allowed to enter the city proper. Others -deserters from the South Vietnamese Army or suspected Communist infiltrators -were detained for brusque and unpleasant questioning.One parfait-colored bus looked like the kind that in happier times might have taken children on carefree outings. But there was no joy in the young faces that stared from the windows of the bus now. Nor was there misery, compassion or complaint -only resignation on little faces that were very young and yet incredibly old.The trucks and buses were piled so high with refugees' possessions that they resembled animated junk yards, like the Okie flivvers during the exodus. There was a necessity here, an heirloom there, a chair, a mattress, a bicycle, a wedding portrait.Some refugees had walked, not rode, and those could be identified by distinctive movement: they had that resigned and patient shuffle as they waited for their papers to be checked.On man had swept along in a wheel chair -his wife had pushed him down the long highway with his two small boys riding on the footrest. One lad sleepily tumbled off as they were passed through the checkpoint. A watching American lifted him back and the crippled refugee smiled thanks.There was another way into Da Nang, via the river that passes into the city like an open vein. Refugees had boarded barges, river boats, anything that could push its way out of the Perfume River in Hue and travel by coastal or inland route into Da Nang. There was no hearty welcome or out-pressed hand for them -only the impersonal but necessary search. One large group -tired children, somber young men, wise and old women -were backed up against a warehouse platform.A South Vietnamese officer said he was sorry, but orders were orders. All papers would be given a careful check. The officer told Pacific Stars and Stripes that 12 Viet Cong suspects had been arrested the night before. Two of them, definitely identified as VC, were dressed in South Vietnamese uniforms and one wore the insignia of a captain. Both carried M16 rifles.They were found in a car and had no papers. They said they were from Da Nang but tripped over questions and knew nothing about the city, the officer said.Where did the refugees go? Anywhere they could squat on their haunches or sprawl on their backs. There are 15 centers for about 200,000 refugees, an American adviser said the day before, including two schools that were hastily pressed into service.Other refugees tiredly laid down in a courtyard of an ancient, peeling Catholic cathedral -many no doubt wondering how long young children, old women and helpless cripples could outrun a way."Running, Running - To Nowhere at All", by Hal Drake, published in the Pacific Stars and Stripes on Sunday, May 7, 1972 and reprinted from European and Pacific Stars and Stripes, a Department of Defense publication copyright, 2002 European and Pacific Stars and Stripes.