Neil Russell's Blog - Posts Tagged "hmong"
How I Became Involved With the Hmong
Thanks very much for your interest in my novels.
My involvement with Hmong children disabled by mines was prompted by an American Special Forces officer who had returned to Southeast Asia following the Vietnam War. Though a heart issue had kept me from being able to serve in the military, I supported organizations that worked for the welfare of our men and women in uniform. It was through one of these organizations that I met Col. Frederick Caristo, a highly-decorated and an even more highly-respected SF warrior. For only one example of his bravery, I would encourage you to read the commendation for his Distinguished Service Cross, an award second only to the Congressional Medal of Honor. http://projects.militarytimes.com/cit...
In the mid-seventies, spurred by the United States military’s withdrawal from the region, Communist movements were taking control of large swaths of territory and running insurgencies against existing governments and indigenous people who did not join them. Despite the intellectual elite in the West who scoffed at the “Domino Theory,” Eisenhower and Kennedy had been proven correct. Southeast Asia was falling fast. The only remaining debating point was whether an insurgency became clients of the Soviets or the Chinese.
The bloodshed wreaked was unchecked and appalling, but after the long war in Vietnam, the American media, along with most of the public, was anxious to turn the page and be rid of such headlines and images. This was especially true regarding Laos, where the so-called “Secret War” had been fought and where many believed—myself included—that American POWs were still being held. Diplomats, then as now, had no easy solution to anti-American-sponsored insurgencies, so they shrugged and moved on to fresh geography.
The Laotian capital, Vientiane, had fallen to the Communist Pathet Lao almost immediately, and by the early 1980s, the Pathet Lao had solidified their hold on the majority of cities and people. The lone thorn in their side was an ancient mountain tribe known as the Hmong who, since the time of Christ, had ranged over Southeast Asia without regard for borders or governments—especially Communist ones.
Not only had the Hmong fought alongside the Americans during the Vietnam War, but they were an unrepentant foe who occupied the valuable hardwood forests that the Pathet Lao were anxious to harvest for hard currency. More to the point, the Hmong were animists who believed the forests were sacred. Therefore, destroying the giant trees was not only a desecration of the land; it was a spear to the heart of their spirituality. And for this they were willing to fight.
The Pathet Lao’s answer to this insolence was the same as that of totalitarian regimes since the beginning of time: genocide. And they vowed to exterminate the Hmong “to the last root.”
The Pathet Lao had a large, well-equipped army. Their officers had been trained by the Russians and Vietnamese and were professionally led. But large complements of troops and artillery are not made for mountain warfare. The Hmong’s tactics were to lure the Pathet Lao up steeply forested inclines until the soldiers were gasping for breath, then attack from all sides. It was brutal for the Communists, and they lost countless men.
Helped by the Soviets, the Pathet Lao hit upon a different approach: use helicopters to gas the forests while at the same time strewing the trails with small incendiary devices built to look like toys. The first would kill anyone who could not move fast enough to escape gas; the second was even more horrific. When a child picked up one of these colorful mines, it would either kill or maim him—often also taking out his mother, brothers and sisters too. (If anyone still believes the Soviets were “just like us” then he or she has not seen a child savaged by a mine toy.)
Soviet wisdom said that, in time, the terror would either drive the Hmong out of the hardwood mountains and into other countries, or they would beg for peace. Neither happened. The Hmong doubled down, ready to die as a people.
Enter Col. Caristo, who had fought alongside the Hmong during the war. Unable to turn his back on his friends and former allies, he returned to the mountains of Laos. And those of us who could help, did.
There are few Hmong left in Laos today. Or anywhere in Southeast Asia. If you travel there and happen to see something colorful near a trail, leave it where it is. Perhaps an old Pathet Lao soldier will pick it up.
My involvement with Hmong children disabled by mines was prompted by an American Special Forces officer who had returned to Southeast Asia following the Vietnam War. Though a heart issue had kept me from being able to serve in the military, I supported organizations that worked for the welfare of our men and women in uniform. It was through one of these organizations that I met Col. Frederick Caristo, a highly-decorated and an even more highly-respected SF warrior. For only one example of his bravery, I would encourage you to read the commendation for his Distinguished Service Cross, an award second only to the Congressional Medal of Honor. http://projects.militarytimes.com/cit...
In the mid-seventies, spurred by the United States military’s withdrawal from the region, Communist movements were taking control of large swaths of territory and running insurgencies against existing governments and indigenous people who did not join them. Despite the intellectual elite in the West who scoffed at the “Domino Theory,” Eisenhower and Kennedy had been proven correct. Southeast Asia was falling fast. The only remaining debating point was whether an insurgency became clients of the Soviets or the Chinese.
The bloodshed wreaked was unchecked and appalling, but after the long war in Vietnam, the American media, along with most of the public, was anxious to turn the page and be rid of such headlines and images. This was especially true regarding Laos, where the so-called “Secret War” had been fought and where many believed—myself included—that American POWs were still being held. Diplomats, then as now, had no easy solution to anti-American-sponsored insurgencies, so they shrugged and moved on to fresh geography.
The Laotian capital, Vientiane, had fallen to the Communist Pathet Lao almost immediately, and by the early 1980s, the Pathet Lao had solidified their hold on the majority of cities and people. The lone thorn in their side was an ancient mountain tribe known as the Hmong who, since the time of Christ, had ranged over Southeast Asia without regard for borders or governments—especially Communist ones.
Not only had the Hmong fought alongside the Americans during the Vietnam War, but they were an unrepentant foe who occupied the valuable hardwood forests that the Pathet Lao were anxious to harvest for hard currency. More to the point, the Hmong were animists who believed the forests were sacred. Therefore, destroying the giant trees was not only a desecration of the land; it was a spear to the heart of their spirituality. And for this they were willing to fight.
The Pathet Lao’s answer to this insolence was the same as that of totalitarian regimes since the beginning of time: genocide. And they vowed to exterminate the Hmong “to the last root.”
The Pathet Lao had a large, well-equipped army. Their officers had been trained by the Russians and Vietnamese and were professionally led. But large complements of troops and artillery are not made for mountain warfare. The Hmong’s tactics were to lure the Pathet Lao up steeply forested inclines until the soldiers were gasping for breath, then attack from all sides. It was brutal for the Communists, and they lost countless men.
Helped by the Soviets, the Pathet Lao hit upon a different approach: use helicopters to gas the forests while at the same time strewing the trails with small incendiary devices built to look like toys. The first would kill anyone who could not move fast enough to escape gas; the second was even more horrific. When a child picked up one of these colorful mines, it would either kill or maim him—often also taking out his mother, brothers and sisters too. (If anyone still believes the Soviets were “just like us” then he or she has not seen a child savaged by a mine toy.)
Soviet wisdom said that, in time, the terror would either drive the Hmong out of the hardwood mountains and into other countries, or they would beg for peace. Neither happened. The Hmong doubled down, ready to die as a people.
Enter Col. Caristo, who had fought alongside the Hmong during the war. Unable to turn his back on his friends and former allies, he returned to the mountains of Laos. And those of us who could help, did.
There are few Hmong left in Laos today. Or anywhere in Southeast Asia. If you travel there and happen to see something colorful near a trail, leave it where it is. Perhaps an old Pathet Lao soldier will pick it up.
