Another War : Sons of Staunchest U.S. Allies in Indochina Serving in the Gulf

Lor Lee, eyes glued to a television report on events unfolding in thePersian Gulf, asked a question that many Hmong fathers are asking these days as their sons, serving with the U.S. military, battle the Iraqis in a ground war half a world away.

The quiet, reserved Lee asked a visitor to his family’s modest, but tidy Linda Vista apartment if the Marine Corps would allow him to change places with his son, Va Lee, 22. The younger Lee is a rifleman fighting in Kuwait with the Marines’ 2nd Division and has been in the Persian Gulf for almost two months.

And, if the Marines do not allow him to change roles with his son, perhaps they will allow him to fight side by side with the young Marine, said Lee, 47, and a father of 12.

“My father wants to be with my brother in order to protect him. My father is constantly thinking of my brother. He worries. At night, he dreams of being with him over there,” said a younger son, Cho, who interpreted for Lee.

The Persian Gulf War and the fears it has raised have affected thousands of American families whose sons and daughters have been put in harm’s way. The Hmong community is no exception.

War is not a new experience to the Hmong, a mountain tribe from northern Laos. Hmong warriors fought in the jungles of Indochina for almost 30 years straight, between 1945 and 1975, with the French Army, Laotian Army and later in a secret CIA war against communist forces. In past wars that involved the Hmong, it was not unusual for father and son to fight together in the same unit.

Today, old soldiers like Lee, who was a lieutenant in the CIA’ secret army, can only watch the war on television and pray for their sons’ safe return. The horror of war is very real and personal for them. Every Hmong father interviewed for this story was wounded at least once in battle.

The Hmongs, who were slash-and-burn farmers in their native Laos, were the poorest and least educated of the Indochinese refugees who arrived in the United States. However, during the U.S. Indochina War, Hmong soldiers were widely regarded as the most loyal and fiercest of America’s indigenous allies.

The presence of Hmong men in the U.S. military comes as no surprise to those familiar with this country’s military involvement in Southeast Asia in the 1960s and 1970s.

“In Laos, their two major occupations were farming and soldiering. What they know a lot about . . . is soldiering. They are very experienced at this,” said Kenji Ima, a San Diego State University professor and expert in Hmong history.

According to Ima, about 30,000 Hmong, out of a population of about 300,000, died in the CIA’s secret war in Laos. Their loyalty to their U.S. advisers was legendary.

“They were the most resilient of our Indochinese allies. They would literally fight to the last man. . . . They felt that they had paid a huge debt to America,” Ima said.

Despite their service and loyalty to this country, Hmongs were among the last group of Indochinese refugees that the United States agreed to accept after the defeat in Vietnam.

Some critics have charged that the CIA abandoned the Hmong when the United States signed the Vietnam cease-fire accord in 1973. The Communist government of Laos began a policy of genocide in 1974 and 1975 against Hmongs who served with the CIA, forcing thousands to flee across the Mekong River to Thailand.

There are about 2,000 Hmongs living in San Diego, mostly in Linda Vista. Their children are slowly assimilating into U.S. society, while living in a world that is bilingual and bicultural.

Department of Defense officials in Washington said they did not know how many Hmong men are serving in the U.S. Armed Forces. But The Times interviewed four Hmong families who have a son in either the Army or Marine Corps and serving in the Persian Gulf. Each young man is a graduate of Kearny High School.

The Hmongs lived in tribal clans in the northern mountains of Laos, far removed from any semblance of a modern society. Most Hmong now serving in the U.S. military were born in mountain villages and as youths lived in squalid refugee camps in Thailand before emigrating to the United States about 10 years ago.

Today, a little more than a decade after arriving in America in search of peace and prosperity, Hmong parents anxiously await the return of another generation of Hmong warriors, who are serving their adopted country in far-off battlefields.

“My mother went through this before, when my father was a soldier,” Xoua Her said.

Her brother, Vang Her, 20, is a member of the Army’s 3rd Armored Cavalry Regiment. “The difference this time is that my father has joined my mother in waiting for my brother to return,” said Xoua, 28 and a teacher’s assistant at Linda Vista Elementary School.

A U.S. flag tacked to the door of the Hers’ modest apartment advertises the family’s staunch patriotism. Lao May Her, 56, lives in the two-story apartment with his wife, Nou Yang, 47, and seven of their nine children.

Pictures of the Her children and grandchildren, including numerous military pictures of Vang, adorn the living room.

Lao May Her was a soldier for about 14 years and fought with the French Army at the disastrous battle of Dien Bien Phu, where Vietnamese nationalist forces defeated an army of French and colonial troops in 1954. Her, who later fought in the CIA’s army, lost part of a leg when he stepped on an anti-personnel mine.

Speaking through another daughter, Pang, 12, Her expressed his family’s fear and pride for their soldier son.

“We are very proud of Vang. My dad says that, if you are going to live in this country, you have to be willing to help defend it. But my mom and dad are also very scared about the war. My dad watches the television news every day and night, and can hardly sleep,” said Pang, a student at Montgomery Junior High School.

Her’s wife, Nou Yang, has carried an ever-present look of concern on her face since her son was dispatched to the Persian Gulf. The family is Roman Catholic and prays daily for Vang’s safe return.

“We pray for him every night. We all miss him,” said Nou Yang, speaking through daughter Pang. “I want him home. I worry about him getting hurt. He called us the other day, and it was good to hear his voice. But, after we finished talking, it left me with more sadness.”

Down the street from the Hers, Xay Vang, 48, also spends much of his day in front of the television, anxiously watching reports from the Persian Gulf. His son, Soua Vang, 22, is a Marine rifleman who has been in the Persian Gulf for six months.

The elder Vang, a soldier for 11 years, was disabled when he stepped into a pit filled with punji stakes, the sharp spears of bamboo that were one of the most dreaded booby-traps of the Indochina war. Speaking through a son who interpreted for him, Vang, the father of 11 children, said he thought he had left war behind when his family emigrated to this country.

“I always wished for peace when I lived in Laos. I came to America looking for peace and wanting my children to go to school, get a good education and good jobs. I never wanted my children to experience war,” said Vang.

At first, he declined to give Soua permission to enlist in the Marines.

“I didn’t want my son to go to war. But now that he’s over there, I have to support him. I feel very proud that my son is helping to protect our country. I wish him good luck and look forward to having him back, safe,” Vang said.

Like the other men interviewed for this story, Vang said he is mesmerized by television coverage of the war. But like Lee and Her, Vang said he is unable to understand much of the coverage unless the reports are interpreted by his children.

“I watch television every day. I can’t understand very much of what they say, but what I see scares me very much,” he said.

The instant television coverage of the war, with battle scenes from a darkened Baghdad sky and high-tech weaponry, is too surreal for the older Hmongs, only a few years removed from jungle-covered mountains. Vang conceded that he was a little confused by the coverage, especially by scenes of U.S. soldiers talking to television cameras.

“Do the families of those soldiers ask that they be shown on television? Why don’t they talk to my son, so I can see how he is?” he asked.

The Hmongs said they were also puzzled by demonstrations against the Persian Gulf War.

“We think they’re (protesters) crazy. I know they’re allowed their opinion, but they should support our troops,” said Xoua Her. “That’s why America lost the Vietnam War. These people (protesters) should learn a lesson from history. My mom and dad feel the same way. The President made the decision to send our troops over there, and we should support him.”