Hanoi Hilton

The Hoa Lo prison, or Hanoi Hilton as captured American pilots dubbed it, was opened by the French in 1896 to take care of anti-colonial Vietnamese. From 1964 - 73, it was used as a prison for American pilots whose planes were shot down over Hanoi (including Senator John McCain). It was a sobering experience to walk in what's left of the prison -- much of it has been torn down to make way for an apartment/office building that now towers over the place.

It's a peaceful place nowadays, a bit of a sanctuary from the bustle of Hanoi. But the torture instruments, guillotines, and shackled mannequins on display tell a different story. I can't imagine what it must have been like to be imprisoned there, for some Americans a decade of their life. I felt a bit self centered, as I walked the halls of the prison, to be feeling "too American" about the place: I had to remind myself that it was used by the French to imprison Vietnamese, inhabitants of their own country, for much longer.

Among the displays are cells with ankle shackles from wall to wall, which must have accommodated at least 100 prisoners (if not more), chained up side to side, packed together like sardines. The heat, the smell, the discomfort they must have endured...

One of the more interesting exhibits was a piece of propaganda published by the Vietnam government to quell talk of inhumane treatment of American prisoners. The poster, which seems something like a brochure for summer camp, is full of tiny black and white photos that accompany a running narrative about what life is (was) like in the prison...

"Time sure flies. Christmas is here again." This, supposedly, a quote from a prisoner. There are photos of prisoners receiving packages from home, cooking, playing volleyball, playing the guitar, attending church services, receiving medical care. The poster talks of how prisoners read books about Vietnamese culture and people (noting that it was a relief, for these men, to be free from the brain washing reading material from home). The poster also tells us how the prisoners found great satisfaction in growing flowers and raising chickens, some of which became pets. Prisoners, supposedly, found great pleasure in playing the guitar after dinner and holding nightly discussions about their home towns. I imagine the conversations eventually went something like this: "Oh, for the life of God, Bob, that story again?!?" I imagine those conversations would get quite tired after, say, 5 years. The prisoners also had plenty of fruits and veggies grown in the fertile soils of Vietnam... the poster compares the bounty to "...California, located somewhere on the West Coast."

In short, the poster makes being captured look like a better choice to whatever freedom one might find in the services... it makes the prison out like it's a resort... giving the name "Hanoi Hilton" an ironic twist.