Along the historic Ho Chi Minh Trail: people continue to live with deadly refuse of war.

Nong District - Savanakhet Province - Lao Peoples Democratic Republic

Legends abound about the Ho Chi Minh Trail. While most Americans associate the term with the Vietnam War, the trail was actually cut through the forests of Laos in the late 1950’s as an infiltration network for Viet Minh forces moving from north to south in their conflict with the French. (The “Viet Minh” was a communist dominated nationalist movement opposed to rule by a colonial power).

The Viet Minh unit that substantially enlarged and improved the route was tagged “Group 559” in recognition of the surveying and construction work that began in May 1959. The trail followed primitive footpaths worn by aboriginals, such as the Makong and the Ta Oy, tribes that for centuries have inhabited the mid-slopes and plateaus of the jagged mountain range that separates Laos from Vietnam.

When the 1962 Geneva Accords temporarily partitioned Vietnam into two zones, the trail became a communication link between military forces in North Vietnam and their compatriots in the south (supporters of the National Liberation Front, derogatorily called “Viet Cong” by the Americans). Control of the trail, which was largely in Laotian territory, enabled North Vietnam to move men and material from launching grounds in the north, around American and Army of [South] Vietnam troops operating below the 17th parallel, to combat zones deep in South Vietnamese territory.

The movement of personnel and equipment from north to south was a clear violation of the Geneva Accords, so for most of the war North Vietnam denied the existence of the trail. Attacking targets in neutral Laos was also a violation of the Accords. So it followed that for most of the war, the United States denied bombing the trail that the North Vietnamese denied existed.

One misconception that Americans hold about the trail is that it was a single highway. In fact, the trail was actually a complex web of many trails and waterways. All totaled, at its zenith the network consisted of nearly 2,000 miles of footpaths, trails, roadways and rivers. In places parallel roads, all part of the same north-south concourse, ran 60 miles apart.

Another misconception is the common belief that the trail was named by the communists in honor of their esteemed leader, Ho Chi Minh. In fact, the designation “Ho Chi Minh Trail” was a slang term coined by the Americans. Throughout the war, and for many years after the conflict ended, the North Vietnamese referred to the network as the “Truong Son Road.” In recent years (I suspect as a result of increased tourism) the Lao and Vietnamese have embraced the name invented by the Americans and now use it on signposts and memorial markers.

During the war the most glaring misconception about the trail was the mistaken belief (or false hope) that American saturation bombing could effectively interdict soldiers and material attempting to move south, and that American air power alone could limit the North’s ability to reinforce and reprovision its forces. In fact, the number of troops and amount of materiel that successfully passed over the trail is staggering, considering the hardships and hazards that American bombing created.

It is estimated that over 600,000 North Vietnamese troops transversed the trail sometime during the war. (While most traffic moved from north to south, wounded soldiers were sometimes carried out of the south and moved up the trail to medical facilities in the north). Troops and porters carried over a half million tons of supplies down the trail, often on their backs, frequently on sturdy bicycles. Late in the war, supplies moved via Russian and Chinese supplied trucks. It is estimated that American bombing, which at one point reached 900 sorties a day, destroyed only 10 to 20 percent of the equipment and provisions moving south. One estimate is that the United States dropped over 300 bombs for every North Vietnamese Army casualty that was inflicted.

How did the North Vietnamese maintain the trail in spite of constant bombardment? Of greatest importance was the environment through which the trail ran. Using machetes, troops literally tunneled through the dense triple-canopy forest so men and vehicles could move undetected beneath a leafy roof. Stanley Karnow, a journalist who spent years in Vietnam, reported: “When I frequently scanned the region from helicopters during the 1960’s, nothing was discernable, even at low altitudes, beneath the green canopy that seemed to stretch on endlessly.” Patiently taking the long view, Vietnamese workers even planted trees and vines to create future cover in places where the native forest was thin.

Numerous caves sheltered soldiers during aerial attack. I have explored several caves along the trail; some so massive that a thousand men and their weapons could be hidden within. Knowing that American bombers would seek out bridges or pontoons used for river crossings, the Vietnamese built bridges that provided a driving surface that was actually several inches under water and thus invisible to planes overhead.

At one point over 25,000 North Vietnamese soldiers guarded the trail assisted by as many as 100,000 porters and laborers. When sections of the trail were mined or destroyed, traffic was simply rerouted to adjacent trails while workers went about removing ordnance and making quick repairs. (Often, the North Vietnamese recycled unexploded American ordnance into homemade weapons that they then used against their opponents in the south).

My work in Nong District demands that I travel from village to village, sometimes by roadway, sometimes by footpath. During the rainy season when small streams become wide rivers, we must use boats or wade through shallow fords. My travels here have allowed me to walk remnants of the old trail and to get a feel for its complexity. (One short stretch of the nearby Xe Lanong River has no fewer than three separate crossing points, each a few hundred yards from the other; all have well-worn cobblestone ramps leading from the riverbed to higher ground).

I’ve also seen an assortment of wrecked military trucks, tanks, and artillery pieces. While much of the old equipment has been cannibalized for parts or hacked apart for the value of its scrap, what remains gives a hint as to the destructive force of American air power when planes were on target. Of course, the most telling remnant of the war is the wide assortment of live UXO that we find in the forests and fields.

I hope that the Lao preserve some of the prominent sections of the trail and collect samples of war materiel as well. The Indochina War is an important part of this nation’s history; the old “teacher” in me sees merit in preserving such landmarks and relics from the past.

I’ve met a few bold tourists here in Laos who were searching for evidence of the trail. It apparently has made some people’s list of “1000 Things to See Before I Die!” Perhaps preservation of the trail will lead to increased tourism in this region and the world will learn of the problems that the Makong, the Ta Oy, and other indigenous people face as they struggle to live in a land not yet healed from a distant war.