B52 Lake and Uncle Ho

In December 1972, Operation Linebacker II, also known as the "Christmas Bombings", saw the United States launch a massive aerial bombing campaign against North Vietnam, with Hanoi and Haiphong among the primary targets.

To America's shock and dismay, North Vietnam was able to shoot down a total of fifteen B-52 Stratofortress bombers during Operation Linebacker II. Perhaps the most famous was a B-52 that was shot down over Hanoi and crashed into Hữu Tiệp Lake.

Following the war, the remains of the aircraft were left in the lake, where they remain today as a memorial to the Vietnamese victory over the American bombing campaign.

On our first early morning in Hanoi, Dominik and I set off on foot through a warren of narrow residential alleyways, too small for cars to pass through, dodging motorbikes and foot traffic along the way. Eventually, the narrow lanes opened up into a square surrounding the small lake.

It was surreal seeing the plane, which underwent restorations in 2022 on the 50th anniversary of the bombing, still poking out of the water. It's a real reminder that military might and technological superiority didn't win the Vietnam War.

We decided to walk on towards West Lake, where Dominik wanted to see the John McCain memorial. On the way, however, I tried to lead us on a shortcut past the Mausoleum of Ho Chi Minh, national hero and founder of modern Vietnam, but somehow, we accidentally ended up shepherded into a queue in front of the monument.

Before we even knew what was happening, we found ourselves proceeding into the mausoleum itself, a dimly lit, quiet, solemn, and heavily air-conditioned place where the preserved body of Ho Chi Minh himself lies in a glass sarcophagus, illuminated by an ethereal light and surrounded by a number of statue-still white-uniformed ceremonial guards.

We silently filed past the body of the man who had led North Vietnam through decades of war and become perhaps the most important figure in modern Vietnamese history. Photography is strictly forbidden inside, and visitors are expected to remain silent and keep moving.

This unexpected detour felt very much like a somber pilgrimage, but minutes later we were back out in the sweltering humidity of the Hanoi morning.

We had come to the One Pillar Pagoda, a small wooden Buddhist temple that atop a single stone pillar rising from a square pond meant to look like a lotus blossom emerging from the water.

The original pagoda was commissioned by Emperor Lý Thái Tông in 1049, after, according to legend, the emperor dreamed that the Buddhist bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara, associated with compassion, appeared to him sitting on a lotus flower and offered him a son.

The walls surrounding the temple complex were full of posters depicting Buddhist virtues. Most were the normal sorts of things you would expect: be kind to animals, don't litter, help your grandparents, etc., but some of the more unique ones were very clearly influenced by Vietnam's Cold War era history, a time period that still looms large over the consciousness of the nation.

Revealing the country's secrets and causing serious harm leads to rebirth as a mute and a life full of suffering.

Utter loyalty to one's homeland and the Buddha's teachings leads to virtue comparable to divinity.

Serving the people and nation in a past life brings rebirth as a powerful and high-ranking official.

At this point, we decided that we might as well head inside the Ho Chi Minh Museum to learn more about the man who we had just seen lying in state. It's a free museum dedicated to Ho Chi Minh (affectionately called Uncle Ho) and his life and political philosophy.

Interestingly, although he would eventually become known for establishing one of the most successful Communist states, Ho Chi Minh's relationship with Communism was complicated. He was, first and foremost, a Vietnamese nationalist determined to free his country from French colonial rule. He admired American Democracy, and when he declared Vietnamese independence in 1945, he deliberately borrowed from the Declaration of Independence. He also repeatedly appealed to the United States for assistance in securing Vietnamese independence, particularly in the years immediately following World War II.

The United States, however, was unwilling to go against their French allies, so instead, Ho turned increasingly toward the Soviet Union.

After learning more about Uncle Ho's life and visiting the small wooden stilt house that would be his home for his final years, Dominik and I finally got back on track and headed on towards West Lake. It had been a fascinating and unexpected detour.