David Swires calls them rickshaws but in Vietnam, they are known as cyclos. Cyclos are 3 wheel bicycles outfitted with a passenger cab at the front and the operator is located towards the rear. Although designed for a single passenger, I saw as many as three Vietnamese crammed onto a single cyclo bicycle.

While visiting Saigon, the cyclo became my preferred mode of transportation. Although relatively slow, it allows one to get elbow to elbow with the street traffic and street activities throughout the city. The breeze in the face, the exciting scent of street food vending stands as well as witnessing the common, everyday life while pedaling down the tree lined streets of Saigon was exhilarating and distinctly different from being on the inside of a taxi cab.

The "Lonely Planet" travel guide for Vietnam contained a sobering description of the cyclos. According to the Planet, many of the cyclo drivers were former professional men or ARVN officers but like many others who sided with the South Vietnamese government, they were punished. After the cease-fire they were stripped of their citizenship and sent to re-education camps for many years. Even after 20 years, many are prevented from returning to the jobs they are qualified for and most do not have an official residence permit, meaning they cannot own property or businesses.

I met my cyclo driver outside the gates of the War Remnant Museum. He offered to take me to the site of the former American Embassy for one US dollar. Along the way he pointed out many interesting features of the city. I ended up retaining his services for the rest of the day. His name was Nguyen Van Dung. It sounded like "Duke" so that is what I called him. Over coffee at a street café I learned that he was 45 years old and had been pedaling his cyclo for over 10 years. I also learned that he was a former ARVN lieutenant in an armor unit at Da Nang from 1971 to 1975. We quickly became friends and had several long conversations about the war years. I did not however ask him about the "re-education" years as it seemed to be too early in our friendship to make such inquires.

After dropping me at my hotel that evening Duke offered to pick me up again for more touring the next day. Since Fritz and Swires had already departed earlier that day, I figured it would be a good way to spend my last day in Vietnam.

Duke was at curbside promptly at 10am and we continued our tour, visiting several Saigon market places and pagodas. He cautioned me about pick pockets at the market places and the protocol at religious pagodas.

Towards evening I asked him to take me to the Bihn noodle shop for some Pho and Vietnamese spring rolls. This particular noodle shop is a place Fritz, Swires and I had found several days earlier. It is owned by Mr. Ngo Toai but operated by his son, grandson and other family members. We had learned that the elderly Ngo was a prominent figure in the Peoples Liberation Army (known as the Viet Cong) and he was one of the masterminds in planning the attack on the U.S. Embassy during the 1968 Tet offense. In fact, the strategic planning occurred in the mezzanine of his noodle shop, and he had the credentials and honor certificates to prove it!

Duke and I dug into the Pho soup and spring rolls placed before us. Tea was later brought to the table. While sipping the first cup I noticed the elderly Mr. Ngo descending from the living quarters above. He joined us for tea and we talked in broken English and Vietnamese. Knowing it was my last day in Vietnam, they both wished me a safe journey home and they eagerly shared wallet photos of their families. Unlike previous conversations with Mr. Ngo and Duke, nothing was said about the war years. It wasn't necessary. We all knew each others background. But still, it struck me as being an incredible dialog. A former high ranking VC, a former ARVN officer and a former US Army Ranger sipping tea together, wishing each other well!

It was dark and raining heavily by the time Duke got me back to the hotel. I tipped him with everything I had, saving just enough to pay for the taxi fare to the airport and the departure tax. I threw my clothes into my suitcase and started my countdown to departure. But still my mind was focused on the dinner at the Bihn noodle shop. As I boarded the taxi for my trip to the airport I realized that my undefined purpose in returning to Vietnam was answered at the Bihn noodle shop. My mission was accomplished.

Michael S. Chu
Co. G (RANGER) 75th Infantry