Dornan Leaves Hanoi With New Respect for Old Enemy : Garden Grove Congressman Puts His Personal Stamp on U.S. Delegation’s Bid to Find MIAs From Vietnam War

The opening toasts had concluded and the glasses of Russian brandy were set aside. A group of nine U.S. congressmen who had come here to seek information about American armed forces personnel missing in action from the Vietnam War leaned back in their chairs, ready to begin talks with Vietnamese officials.

Up to this point, the mood in the sparsely furnished greeting room had been amiable and low-key. A battery of Vietnamese interpreters exchanged quiet messages of friendship between the two groups, as a warm evening wind rippled in from the street.

Then Rep. Robert K. Dornan (R-Garden Grove) rose to speak.

‘Not Year of Whimp’

“Gentlemen, this is the year of the tiger, not the year of the wimp,” he said in a booming voice. The Vietnamese interpreters suddenly looked confused.

“I say, let’s act like tigers here today. Let’s take this (prisoner of war) problem and break it wide open, once and for all.”

The Hanoi officials, who had been smiling broadly, stiffened in their chairs and looked curiously at the tall, red-headed congressman who was haranguing them about dead American pilots. When he concluded, Dornan sat down with a sigh and crossed his legs, revealing a scruffy pair of blue running shoes.

“I don’t know if Hanoi was really prepared for Bob Dornan,” one U.S. official said later. “On this trip, the man was in rare form.”

Had Time to Elaborate

During the 20 hours that the American delegation spent recently in Hanoi, members conducted lengthy discussions about the physical remains of missing U.S. military personnel, live sightings of American POWs in Southeast Asia and a stalled program allowing Vietnamese citizens to emigrate to America.

Still, Dornan found ample time to lecture Hanoi officials about his father’s war record, Rambo, James Dean, American military honor, modern jet plane technology and Henry Kissinger’s negotiating skills.

In more leisurely moments, the Orange County congressman railed against Jane Fonda’s politics, blasted Robert McNamara’s handling of the Vietnam War and complained about the poor quality of Hanoi’s department stores.

When the whirlwind trip was over, Dornan said it had been enlightening and even pleasurable.

“For the first time, Hanoi was not the dark side of the moon, an enemy country where hundreds of my friends were held in captivity,” said Dornan, who visited the Vietnamese capital once before, in 1979.

“Now, it’s on the beaten path for me. The old cliche that time heals old wounds really is true. . . . I’m ready to stop calling them the enemy country.”

Said Mind Was Open

It was a surprising admission for a politician well known for his flamboyant anti-communism. However, Dornan said the Vietnamese appeared to be making sincere efforts to help locate missing Americans and stressed that he went to Hanoi with an open mind.

Other congressmen said the same thing as they arrived in the old French colonial city in the heat of the afternoon of Feb. 14. But things turned sour almost immediately when Vietnamese officials announced that Foreign Minister Nguyen Co Thach had been called away on business and could not meet with the group. It appeared to be an unforgivable snub.

Dornan, who initially promised to lock himself in his hotel room until Thach appeared, later told his hosts that he would be happy to stay in Hanoi for two weeks or longer, while Thach rearranged his schedule.

“Extend my visa for two weeks, I don’t care,” he pleaded during the opening meeting, while Vietnamese officials held whispered consultations. “I am prepared to wait for however long it takes, OK?”

When there was no response, Dornan’s face turned crimson and he clenched his fist, the POW bracelet around his wrist glistening in the lights. With gusto, he launched into his second speech of the night.

Discusses Transfer of Remains

The American people “are consumed with the mysteries of these boxes of bones,” Dornan said, referring to the physical remains of U.S. veterans that the Vietnamese have recently begun turning over to Army officials.

“And these boxes of bones are important. But if you could give us just one living American who has been held in Vietnam, that would be worth more than a hundred boxes of bones. It would be worth more than a thousand boxes of bones.”

But Dornan quickly added: “Of course, boxes of bones are important too.”

Eventually, the American delegation was persuaded that its talks with Deputy Foreign Minister Hoang Bich Son would be productive, and it agreed to hold formal discussions with Vietnamese leaders on the following morning. The mood became relaxed once again.

As the congressmen filed into an adjacent room for a dinner hosted by Hanoi officials, Dornan was asked about his accommodations in the new guest quarters building across the street.

“Well, it’s better than the old French hotel in which all of you guys (journalists) are staying,” he said.

“That old, unfortunate place, I remember that hotel. That’s where Jane Fonda stayed when she came here.”

Belittles Fonda’s Views

It didn’t take long for Dornan to get rolling on one of his favorite topics. As several Vietnamese dignitaries looked on, he made a whining imitation of the actress’ voice, belittled her views on the American bombing of Hanoi and congratulated himself for having had “the guts” to invite her on a Los Angeles television show that he once hosted.

“Come on now,” he said loudly, as the room began to empty. “I said, ‘Jane, you have to level with me about the war. I had you on my show when no one else would even touch you.’ ”

Dornan suddenly looked down at his blue sneakers and began heading for the dining room. “Boy, I’m sure glad I wore my good shoes tonight,” he said, as the doors closed behind him.

The next morning, several congressmen, including Dornan, took a trip to the Vietnam War Museum a few miles away. As one U.S. official noted, it may be the only museum in the world that was built to commemorate a military victory over the United States.

In the museum’s courtyard, the twisted wreckage of an American bomber shot down over Vietnam had been turned into a patriotic monument, with explanations in Vietnamese, Russian and English.

Inside, photographs of sullen American POWs were arranged in the shape of a crucifix next to an assortment of captured U.S. artillery. On the far wall was a photo exhibit of the 1974 Paris peace talks.

Evaluates Kissinger

Dornan, who was giving his colleagues a guided tour of the museum, made a beeline for the pictures of Vietnamese negotiator Le Duc Tho and Henry Kissinger.

“That’s what galls me most about this place,” he said, pointing angrily to the former Secretary of State. “Le Duc Tho ‘pantsed’ Henry Kissinger in Paris. Henry came out of those talks wearing a barrel and little else.”

Dornan began to recite facts and figures about American troop withdrawals from Vietnam, when he abruptly changed the topic to former U.S. Defense Secretary Robert McNamara.

“There’s the guy who’s to blame,” he said in a rising voice. A young Vietnamese couple in the museum turned to listen.

“The Vietnam War was designed by idiots and fought by brave men,” Dornan continued. “That guy (McNamara) should have been given a prison sentence or at least have resigned from office in disgrace.”

Dornan walked over to a glass case displaying banners--including the American flag--of countries that the Vietnamese claim to have defeated.

‘Can’t Believe We Lost’

“I still can’t believe we lost this thing,” he said. “I’ll probably go to my grave saying that.”

Outside, Dornan paused to look at a carefully preserved Russian MIG jet, whose pilot had recorded 14 “kills” of American planes. At one time, the monument would have angered him, he said. But now, Dornan seemed fascinated by the pilot’s deadly skills.

In great detail, Dornan began recounting his own training experiences with military jets and then spoke with admiration of the Vietnamese pilot.

“When I saw this before, I thought, ‘Here were 14 American guys shot down in the prime of life.’ Today, I look at the MIG and say, ‘Wow, I’m ready to meet the pilot who shot them all down.’ ”

It was time to head back for the Saturday morning negotiating session, and Dornan strolled toward a waiting car. Asked if he intended to follow the rest of the morning schedule, which included a shopping trip in some local stores, he laughed.

“You mean, go looking for some cockamamie trinkets in one of these very sad excuses for a department store? No way, no way.”

Dornan entered the negotiating session with bulging files containing the names of Vietnamese citizens held prisoner by their government who he believed should be released for humanitarian reasons. He also brought lists of missing Americans who may still be alive in Vietnam. But Dornan was not optimistic.

Delegation Seemed Pleased

“I did this once before, in 1979, and now I hear that they don’t even have a complete record of all the files I gave them,” he said. “You just can’t get your hopes up too high.”

When the meeting concluded, however, the American delegation seemed pleased. Rep. Gerald Solomon (R-N.Y.), who chaired the group, said the results were “beyond our strongest expectations.”

The Vietnamese had promised to turn over the physical remains of 14 American soldiers who are missing in action and also to provide information about 70 additional cases, he said.

More important, Hanoi officials appeared to have shifted their position and were now saying that there may be some Americans living in remote areas of the country that are not under government control, Solomon said.

Immediately after the meeting, the Americans hosted a luncheon for the Vietnamese, and the mood was distinctly upbeat. Dornan, who was sitting near Deputy Foreign Minister Hoang Bich Son, seemed particularly elated.

The two officials were deep in conversation when Dornan said, “No, let me tell you, Rambo is just a cartoon. How do you say, it is a comic strip, a comic strip, nothing more. You must not be concerned.”

Turning to Son’s interpreter, Dornan kept rolling.

“You know who you look like?” he said. “You look like the Vietnamese version of a very famous American movie star, James Dean. Do you know about James Dean? He died on Sept. 30, 1955. I’ll bet you didn’t know that.”

Visits Former Prison

The last scheduled event for the American delegation was a visit to the “plantation,” an old French movie studio that was converted into an overflow prison for Americans during the war. Vietnamese officials had prepared a tea ceremony at the site, but Dornan and two of his colleagues, Bill Hendon (R-N.C.) and Bob Smith (R-N.H.) had other ideas.

Without warning--and without the knowledge or permission of Vietnamese officials--they bolted down a crowded street, dodging swarms of bicycle riders, and began looking for what Hendon would only call “the water tower” and “the pond.” Hurriedly, the congressmen looked inside buildings and gated courtyards, as perplexed Vietnamese watched them race by.

Suddenly, the trio charged into what appeared to be a military compound and found what they had been looking for: a water tower standing near some low buildings and a goldfish pond in an inner courtyard.

Dornan said the existence of the two landmarks appeared to confirm the statements of two eyewitnesses who claimed to have seen American POWs in that courtyard long after the Vietnam War ended. Earlier, U.S. military officials had expressed doubts about whether there was a water tower or so-called “cistern” in the area, he added.

As an ABC television crew followed the three congressmen out of the courtyard, Dornan exclaimed, “It’s ’60 Minutes.’ . . . I’m telling you it’s ’60 Minutes,’ ” referring to the CBS television news show.

Meanwhile, an elderly and frail Vietnamese man in a military uniform limped up to the Americans and tried to restrain them from any further explorations. Dornan laughed and put his arm around the man, who had a somewhat shellshocked look and wore his army cap with the bill turned sideways.

‘It Was Overwhelming’

“Hello, major,” Dornan said. “This here’s my guy. Hello, major. How’s it going?”

Later, Dornan said of the incident: “They should have stopped us. If that was the United States, we would all have been arrested. It was overwhelming.

“I can’t believe it happened,” he continued. “The only man who had the good sense to stop us was the man who had his hat turned around like he belonged in an Our Gang comedy.”

Minutes after the incident, the congressmen clambered into their vans and sped out to the Hanoi airport. Crowds of children playing by the road yelled and waved goodby to the Americans as they drove past.

When the military jet took off, most of the congressmen settled into their seats and began to unwind. But Dornan broke them up when he suddenly put a baseball cap on sideways, limped down the aisle and began mimicking the elderly man in the military compound.

“Good Lord,” he said, as the plane soared over an expanse of green rice paddies. “How did we ever lose the war to these people?”