Vietnamese lived in a network of tunnels for years to hide from the war

On the outskirts of Vịnh Mốc, bamboo trees sway in the wind above a row of street food stalls. Red plastic chairs set out on the sidewalk serve as a dining area as diners prepare to enjoy dishes of grilled rice and noodles.

It's a typical image of Vietnam, just like the soda fridges for cold drinks.

It's clear that things have changed: six decades ago, this village in central Vietnam was heavily bombed by US forces, who dropped around 9,000 tons of explosives over eight years.

Next to the food stalls is the entrance to a second Vịnh Mốc: a complex of underground tunnels built to protect inhabitants during the Vietnam War.

Underground refuge to survive
Before 1965, Vịnh Mốc was a sleepy fishing village, one of many similar towns along the coast of Quảng Trị province in central Vietnam.

The environment was characterized by a lush landscape of rice fields, red basalt soil, golden sand beaches of the South China Sea and bamboo thickets.

Then everything changed.

The 1954 Geneva Conventions - the international pacts that ended the first Indochina War - divided Vietnam by establishing the Demilitarized Zone north of the Bến Hải River.

The following year the Vietnam War began.

Vịnh Mốc was adjacent to the Demilitarized Zone, close to important supply routes for North Vietnamese Army forces trying to advance south. This made the area a priority target for both American and South Vietnamese forces throughout the war.

To escape American firepower, the residents of Vịnh Mốc decided it was time to relocate... beneath the village itself.

"Resettlement was not a viable option due to constant shelling and the risk of losing both their land and their lives," says Văn Ngọc Vũ, tour guide and director of Annam Tour.

"Digging an underground tunnel was both a practical and strategic decision," he explained.

Hundreds of residents would spend six years under the village, which was under constant enemy fire.

Tunnels built for life
The on-site museum informs visitors that it was Trần Nam Trung, a senior official in the Communist Party of South Vietnam, who conceived the idea of digging underground during a visit to the region in 1963.

Anticipating that the fighting would shift north, he proposed an underground housing and supply system inspired by Củ Chi, another tunnel complex located near Ho Chi Minh City (then Saigon) in the south of the country.

Củ Chi consisted of narrow, interconnecting passages that led to larger chambers.

Vịnh Mốc, on the other hand, was designed as a self-sufficient underground village, where the main connecting tunnels were high enough to allow standing circulation and spacious enough to house individual family homes dug into the walls of the tunnels.

"People here already knew how to dig small shelters. The soil around Vịnh Mốc was hard enough not to collapse easily and soft enough to be dug with simple tools," explains Connect Travel guide Tran My Hoa.

Construction of the underground village began in 1965 and lasted two years. Lê Xuân Vy, commander of the Border Police, supervised the work, according to an interview with the Vietnamese press.

The complex represented an impressive and ingenious feat of engineering. The tunnels stretch for more than a kilometer, and every detail of the complex was designed for survival.

The underground passages were dug in a zigzag pattern to dampen the shock waves, which propagate in a straight line. Several sections feature vaulted ceilings and thick walls to better resist bombing.

"The tunnel exits were crucial to the functioning of the system. They provided ventilation, emergency evacuation routes and access to external resources," says Văn Ngọc Vũ.

Thirteen of these exits connected the complex to farmland and the sea.

"The exits to the coast allowed discreet refueling operations on Cồn Cỏ Island, thus facilitating logistics", he adds.

Wells were dug to obtain drinking water, and outlets located at opposite ends ensured cross ventilation.

Years in Darkness
Trading the tropical sun and heat for the darkness and damp of the underground is unsettling, and a visit to Vịnh Mốc offers a brief glimpse of the claustrophobic conditions that once existed there.

The fact that some people spent more than five years in these conditions, under constant bombardment, makes the experience even more unsettling.

The complex spans three levels, situated at depths of between 15 and 23 meters, with narrow, low tunnels that widen to lead to larger communal rooms. Niches carved into the walls served as bedrooms for each family.

Compared to the Củ Chi complex, Vịnh Mốc is more spacious and has wider corridors; however, low ceilings force many modern visitors to stoop to get around.

Today, dim electric lights provide illumination, whereas back then there were only oil lamps. Often, inhabitants had to move in total darkness to avoid detection.

It is estimated that around 400 people lived in these tunnels between 1965 and 1972, and current guided tours offer a glimpse into their daily lives. .

"The daily routine revolved around survival", explains Văn Ngọc Vũ.

"People stayed underground during the day and came out at night to cultivate the land, fish and collect food," he added.

The most haunting part of the visit is seeing the "family spaces": small individual chambers, about one meter high and almost two meters deep, carved into the walls of the tunnels, where the inhabitants slept.

Just the thought of spending a night in such conditions is terrifying, so living there for several years is an unimaginable experience.

Surviving the horrors
While death lurked on the surface, new life emerged from the darkness beneath. Guided tours take visitors to a room that once served as the village's maternity ward. According to the guides, at least 17 children were born in Vịnh Mốc.

"The umbilical cord was cut with a simple knife and the newborn was wrapped in old clothes", explains Văn Ngọc Vũ.

"Babies were initially breastfed and then gradually fed mashed cassava or sweet potatoes," he said.

The inhabitants also needed to cook, but the challenge was to prevent the smoke from reaching the surface. The solution was the Hoàng Cầm cooking system, named after the North Vietnamese soldier who invented it.

"The kitchens were on the first floor so that the smoke would not affect the rooms on the second floor", explains Văn Ngọc Vũ.

"The use of small dry fuel fires reduced smoke emissions, while long underground ducts allowed smoke to cool and disperse before escaping through hidden openings," he added.

A similar system existed in Củ Chi.

The engineering at Vịnh Mốc has proven to be remarkably resilient. According to information from the Vịnh Mốc Museum, there were no victims underground during all the years of bombing. Although the US military was aware of underground passages in the area, they were unable to destroy the complex.

The visit through the tunnels culminates in a steep climb up stairs carved into the rock, which lead to one of the seven exits facing the sea. Visitors emerge onto a hillside overlooking the coast, hidden by coastal vegetation. The breeze from the South China Sea brings an invigorating coolness, and the sound of the waves is thunderous after the profound silence of the underground tunnels.

The tunnel system is one of the most popular day trips from Huế, a UNESCO-protected imperial city famous for its palaces, shrines and tombs.

You can also visit Vịnh Mốc as part of a tour of the Demilitarized Zone, which includes stops at Khe Sanh Combat Base - a US Marine base that withstood a 77-day siege in 1968 - the ruins of Long Hung Church (destroyed in a battle in 1972) and Hiền Lương Bridge, located on the 17th parallel, which once divided North and South Vietnam.

Walking through the tranquil Quảng Trị province today, it's hard to believe it was once one of the most bombed places on Earth.

Stopping to enjoy a bowl of phở bò soup, sitting on a plastic chair in one of the stalls near the tunnel entrances, offers the opportunity to reflect on the experience of living there and share the hope that no one will ever have to live that way again.

War pushes people to extremes to survive. The Vịnh Mốc complex is perhaps one of the most haunting examples of this reality in the world.

Source: CNN