The Spy Who Loved Us_ The Vietnam War and Pham Xuan An's Dangerous Game ( PDFDrive )

210 THOMAS A. BASS
A mile down the road from Nguyen Thi Se’s house we stop
at the Cu Chi theme park, where a stretch of tunnel has been
opened to visitors. After an introductory film, a guide outfitted
with a pointer made from an old auto antenna begins lighting
up a diorama that resembles an ant farm illuminated by Christmas
lights. Two hundred and fifty kilometers of tunnels were
built with man traps made from pungi sticks, air locks against
gas attacks, and choke points designed to catch big-boned
Americans. Thousands of men and women died in these dark
burrows stretching twenty miles west into Cambodia, but for all
the military force expended on destroying them, the tunnels
managed for thirty years to hide as many as ten thousand soldiers
within striking distance of Saigon.
We spend the morning touring displays filled with life-size
mannequins demonstrating how Vietcong soldiers manufactured
land mines and hand grenades. There is a shooting range
where for a dollar a bullet I can fire an AK-47 on full automatic
at targets shaped like elephants, tigers, and camels. All morning
we have heard the sound of shots ringing through the small,
second-growth forest which has grown up at Cu Chi. Occasionally
I look over at Tu Cang to watch him hunch his shoulders
and glance around for cover. “I hear the sound of firing,
and I become alert,” he explains.
Our final stop is a collection of long wooden tables set up in
the forest where girls dressed in the black pajamas of Vietcong
soldiers serve hot tea and manioc dipped in a mixture of
peanuts, sugar, and salt. “When I lived here, this is all we had
to eat,” says Tu Cang, sitting at one of the tables. “I lived on it
for years. It made me sick.” He recalls B-52 bombing raids
that made him bleed from his ears and malnutrition that left
him covered with red spots. Before long, the guides have gathered
around to hear Tu Cang tell his stories. When he asks if
they know the songs that the soldiers used to sing when they sat
here eating manioc, the girls shake their heads. Tu Cang starts