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China Beach Orphanage
(responses)
***
January
11, 2010
My wife Kimberly spent time at China Beach Orphanage from age 3 to around
9 before coming over to the U.S. and being adopted eventually by a Navy
Chaplan named Ivan Fuller. Kimberly was known as Nueng Te Cong there and
had a serious eye problem. She lost her entire family and was a sole
survivor of her village. We have a decent collection of literature and
photo's to share. I know Kimberly would love to talk to others and share
experiences. We now have 4 children and they too like these stories. Are
you aware that Stanley Smith created a documentary video which contains
some great photo's of China Beach Orphanage? The video is a life
Biography of his father Gordon Smith and his time spent in VietNam.
Please feel free to contact us.
Peace Mike and Kimberly Delaney
Elmhurst IL 60126
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Sent: Sunday,
October 08, 2006 9:36 PM
Subject: CHINA BEACH ORPHANAGE MEMORIES
Dear Ronnie,
The other day, I found your site when I somehow got it into my mind to do
an Internet search on "China Beach Orphanage" and wound up with a
collection of pictures taken presumably by you during your time in Vietnam
in 1966-69. I just about fell out of my chair. I also shed a few tears.
The only reason I did a search on "China Beach Orphanage" was because I
worked almost daily at China Beach Orphanage in 1972-74 through United
World Mission, which was sponsoring the orphanage at the time. Their field
office was headquartered in Da Nang. I first came into contact with the
orphanage in the spring of 1970 when I was working as an Army Chaplain's
assistant at 37th Signal Battalion, near the air base. One of my chaplains
took a great interest in the orphanage, and we raised nearly $1000 from
our unit to help out there. I began sponsoring a little Montagnard boy
named A Mot, who I continued to sponsor until the fall of the Saigon
government in April 1975. Since then, I have lost track of him and
everyone else connected with China Beach Orphanage, and like you, I have
often wondered what became of everybody.
Down through the years, China Beach Orphanage has often come into my
thoughts, but I don't often speak of it because it has little meaning for
much of anyone else. It has been years since I have come across anyone who
has had any experience with China Beach Orphanage. Since you were
stationed around Da Nang before I arrived, it is interesting to note how
things appeared in earlier years.
I definitely recognize some of the kids. One, a little boy named Hao,
looks only five years old in your photo. I knew him when he was about 10.
Another boy, Bon, looks about 8 or 9, but I picture him in my mind as a
teenager. The picture of the girl standing on the beach is a bit fuzzy,
but it looks like it might be a girl that was later in an English class I
was teaching for the older kids in 1972-73.
In the photo of the kids on the swings, I note in the corner the
beginnings of a new structure. Don't know when that photo was taken, but
in the end, that structure turned into a four-story building that housed
the babies, toddlers and under-5 group, the orphanage dining hall, the
girls' dormitories, and living area for Diana Read and Simone Heywood, the
nurses (besides the Vietnamese nurse that everyone called "Co Y," or "Miss
Nurse"). When I first came to the orphanage about May 1970, that building
was already finished and in use.
In the photo labeled "classrooms," that building ultimately held
apartments for the orphanage director, Pastor Hut, and his family, plus an
apartment for a staff worker, and boys' dormitories. In fact, almost the
entire L-shaped building became the boys' dormitories.
While I was there, the orphanage had about 300 kids, about 25-30% of whom
were from the mountain tribes, most of them Jeh, but also Bru and Cua.
Just after I arrived in 1972, the Easter Offensive began, and about 30
mountain tribe kids were brought down from Kontum. Because they spoke only
Jeh and not much Vietnamese, they were housed in a separate building
throughout the entire time I was there.
While I worked at China Beach, school classes were held on the ground
floor under the chapel, seen in the first photo. Off the orphanage
grounds, and down the road about a half mile or so, extra classroom
buildings were built to house the overflow of kids.
In 1973, the nurses arranged to have the girls who were interested in
becoming nurses to participate in a kind of "candystriper" program out at
the children's hospital. As far as I remember, about 8 of the older girls
participated, staying out at the hospital in special living quarters for
the rest of the summer.
In 1972-74, my duties were varied. I was the mission bookkeeper, but I
also had duties at the orphanage. As I have already said, I taught a daily
English class for some of the older kids. They were very sharp and a lot
of fun. They were motivated, and they picked up English fast because they
wanted to read books in English. Often, they practiced their English with
me.
Sometimes, I was asked to speak at the chapel services (with the aid of a
translator) or to help out with their summer camp. One boy was interested
in taking piano lessons, and since I have taken a couple years of piano
lessons myself, I gave him a start.
As I say, I arrived just about the time of the Easter Offensive, and the
orphanage kids were involved in collecting canned food and other items
through the Vietnamese churches to distribute to the refugees. I helped to
drive them out to the various locations to distribute the food directly to
the people.
Also, I wrote a regular monthly newsletter for the sponsors, sent out
through the Vietnamese secretary who did the translating of letters
between the kids and their sponsors. When the kids got sick, I drove them
to the children's hospital out at Hoa Khanh, north of the city, and picked
them up after they recovered.
The times I most fondly remember was just "hanging out" with the kids,
sometimes trying out my bumbling Vietnamese with them. I joined them in
giving swings, playing volleyball, walking them to the beach, taking them
on little trips. Every Sunday afternoon, I would load up about 20 of the
little kids in the VW bus and take them around Monkey Mountain or Marble
Mountain, around the streets of Da Nang, over to the air base (where we
knew a number of Air Force personnel who were still there), or over to my
place where I gave them cookies and soft drinks. Took a load of them by
boat to the north side of Da Nang Bay, where our mission had another small
orphanage of Montagnard kids. The beach there is very beautiful and the
scenery very tropical. Every week, Pastor Hut made a list of the kids who
would go on these little trips so that everyone who wanted got a chance.
We always carried a couple of the adults or older kids to help with the
supervision.
As you well note, the kids didn't have much in the way of toys, but they
sure made up for it with the most vivid imaginations I ever saw anywhere.
I remember a day when I saw a group of Montagnard boys make an elaborate
set of roads and bridges and villages, with piles of sand, twigs and tin
cans used as cars, jeeps and trucks. There was a certain unspoiled quality
in this that I found extremely attractive. They were still very happy in
spite of their lack of material things.
When you spend a lot of time with kids with whom there is not adequate
communication through spoken language, you develop a kind of sixth sense
when it comes to communication. None of us knew each other's language very
well, but we somehow developed means of speaking, understanding and trust
that went beyond words. It was "soul to soul" communication, which is
somehow different and deeper, going beyond cultural differences. After a
while, the distinction between Vietnamese and American broke down, and it
was just person-to-person. It is a fantastic experience, and I haven't
duplicated it in quite the same way since.
Over time and almost daily contact, I think we developed real feelings of
love for one another. Sometimes the little kids would run up to me, throw
their arms around me and start crying about something that I didn't quite
understand. But I knew they were sad, and that was enough. Somehow,
something nonverbal got communicated to them, so they just continued to
pour out their hearts until they got it out of their systems (and dampened
my shirt). After a time of quiet and taking refuge in my lap, they would
suddenly revive and return to their play.
Sometimes, it worked the other way around. Occasionally, I would
apparently show some sign that I was upset or sad about something, and the
most sensitive of them would pick it up. They would sit next to me,
obviously trying to comfort me with a touch or a look in only the way
little kids can do it. It was pretty hard to stay upset after that.
Does any of this sound familiar?
Anyway, thank you for making your photos available, and thank you for
letting me express myself. The photos bring back a lot of fond memories.
Like you, after 1975, I lost complete track of the kids. In the months
following the communist takeover, I went through several months of grief,
knowing their lives, already uprooted, would change again. I wonder where
they are and what has happened since.
With best wishes to you,
Bob Martin
Sent: Tuesday,
October 17, 2006 9:05 AM
Subject: CHINA BEACH ORPHANAGE
(CONTINUED)
Dear
Ronnie,
Your "Welcome Home" struck me. During the war period, I actually lost a
couple of friends because of the time I spent in Vietnam. One person in
particular was very hostile towards me. He had always been a very amiable
companion before that. Other people took issue with me, saying I should
have taken off and gone to Canada. After those experiences, I was very
cautious about who I talked to about my Vietnam experiences.
My last e-mail turned out so much longer than I expected that I failed to
say everything I intended to say.
For example, were you aware of the adoption policy of China Beach
Orphanage? For all the orphans there, very few of them were actually
adopted out to Americans or anyone else. The reason for that is because
although the orphans may not have had parents, they did have other
relatives-older siblings, grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins. The
Vietnamese concept of "family" is much more inclusive than our western
concept. We may have been agents in caring for the kids, but we didn't
have the last word.
Often, I saw relatives of this or that child who would show up for a
visit. Many of the kids stayed at the orphanage because of economics. The
family situation was so precarious that they could not support anyone
else. They had no choice but to leave one or more children in an
orphanage-not a pleasant choice, but we were there to help. Under such
circumstances, we had no right to take these kids and send them abroad
unless the relatives gave specific permission for us to do so. Sometimes
that happened, but not very often. Most often, the relatives looked
forward to the day when conditions would improve and the children could
return home.
There was one little girl named Thanh that everyone wanted to adopt. She
was about 2 or 3 when I arrived and about 5 when I left. She was a
gorgeous little girl with a bright disposition, and it was understandable
why she charmed everyone. She was a true orphan with no known relatives
outside the orphanage. However, she had four older siblings at the
orphanage who were very close-knit. The older ones said, "You may adopt
Thanh, but only if you adopt the rest of us." Of course, that never
happened.
The only ones who were actually adopted out were those whose relatives
gave permission or those who had no known relatives. Given the events that
happened later, one may say that was a mistake. But at the time, it seemed
the right thing to do, and it wasn't always clear where we sat that
America was going to "cut and run" from Vietnam. It helped the relatives
and the government to trust us better. Unlike the Catholic orphanage down
the road which did a lot of adoptions, especially of babies and toddlers,
the number of babies and toddlers at China Beach Orphanage was relatively
small. Many of the children you knew were in late childhood or even
teenagers by the time I arrived-not good prospects for adoption.
Another matter that we faced was the religious matter. Did you know that
China Beach Orphanage was a Christian orphanage (specifically,
Protestant)? As you probably know, Vietnam is primarily Buddhist, and
probably most of the kids at China Beach Orphanage came from Buddhist
backgrounds. So how did that work out, you may ask.
Actually, quite well, in ways people may not expect. The general attitude
in Vietnamese culture is very fatalistic. What happens to a person in this
life, whether good or bad, is the result of one's fate or karma, and the
karma of one's ancestors. There is no way a person can escape or redeem
it. It must simply be played out until it has all been paid. According to
the general culture, the suffering that has happened to these kids because
of war is the result of bad karma. There's nothing they can do about it.
In a time of war, this can lead to some pretty pessimistic thinking, even
for kids.
Christianity, on the other hand, does not have such answers to the problem
of suffering. While the reasons for suffering are not so clear cut,
Christianity basically says that all suffering may be redeemed. None of us
escapes evil, but evil does not have to turn us into victims. It may be
transformed into something with good results. This was a message that was
conveyed to the kids at China Beach Orphanage, and many (not all) welcomed
and adopted it for themselves. It gave them optimism and a strength of
character and purpose that enabled them to forge on in spite of the evil
circumstances of their lives.
This has practical applications. When you no longer feel bound by karma or
fate, you are more open to positive experiences. Last time, I mentioned
the eight girls involved in the hospital nursing program. All were
Christian girls. Though they came to China Beach Orphanage because of
unfortunate circumstances, they wound up having an experience that opened
them to new possibilities for their lives that they may not have
considered otherwise. This doesn't justify the evil circumstances, but
says that they may be harnessed to good ends.
As I have implied, there was no compulsion placed upon the kids to become
Christians, though many of them did. Those who left the orphanage may have
reverted back to their Buddhist upbringing. On the other hand, some of the
kids definitely had an influence upon their relatives. The changes in
their lives moved the relatives to also change and become Christian.
I also did not tell you that I, like you, am also a writer, although I am
not published like you-at least not yet. Like you, I am working on a
novel, also placed in Vietnam during the war years, though in my case, all
my characters are Vietnamese. Americans show up only incidentally (no baby
killers, by the way), but just enough to give a sense of the flow of our
coming and going and the flow of history that is common knowledge about
the war.
A number of the characters are based roughly upon the people I knew at
China Beach Orphanage, and about half the book takes place in an orphanage
whose setting is similar to that of China Beach Orphanage (although I give
it a different name). But the book goes back further, to their village
lives and what brought them to the orphanage in the first place.
The title (at the moment) is "A Voice from Heaven". The title comes from
the central thesis of the book. The main character, Huynh, in the first
chapter, seems to hear a voice from heaven telling him to focus upon a
particular girl in his village named Dao. Of course, he wonders if he is
hearing things or engaging in wishful thinking. One thing leads to another
and another, until he gets the answer to his question. Before he does, his
village comes under control by the VC. Americans free his village, but for
a time, he and his family wind up in two refugee camps. He also
experiences street life, the orphanage, and just as it looks as if he is
about to return to his village, Saigon falls and he winds up on a fishing
boat. In the midst of all this, he experiences conflict within his own
family.
When I began working on this novel, I had no idea how difficult it would
be. The process has taken far longer than I would have dreamed. If I had
known in the beginning how long and difficult it would be, perhaps I
wouldn't have started it. Now, I am far enough along, there is no looking
back. The challenges of understanding culture and Vietnamese perceptions
of Americans and themselves are really difficult. As you know, finding
accounts of the war that don't give a leftist interpretation of our
involvement are not easy to find. But the non-leftist interpretations are
out there, and a new generation of writers is emerging that is not so
committed to the so-called "conventional wisdom." There are also some very
good and interesting personal accounts and translated literature written
by Vietnamese people that give a lot of cultural clues, and little by
little, I have pieced together the thousands of pieces of the puzzle.
After sixteen years, things are finally coming together, and one day, it
will definitely be finished.
Again, this e-mail is getting longer than I expected, so I better draw it
to a close.
With best wishes,
Bob Martin |
