It's a place of quiet reflection, far from the tourist traps.

It looks like many other small country towns in Vietnam, slow paced, surrounded by untamed terrain and full of noisy motor bikes. We are about 10 kilometres from the border with Laos.
At the local market there are unfortunate chickens tightly packed into metal cages, awaiting their fate. Ready to be purchased, slaughtered and plucked on the spot. There are songbirds in tiny wooden cages. You would like to release them, but they would not survive out of captivity.
But sudden death is not uncommon in these parts. The town's name is known around the world: Khe Sanh.
Just take a drive of about two kilometres from the main street of the capital of Quang Tri Province - there are no signposts that I could see - and you will find yourself at what the locals call San Bay Ta Con.
Khe Sanh Combat Base was a United States Marine Corps outpost just south of the Vietnamese Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) and a key battleground during the Vietnam War (which the Vietnamese call the American War). The band Cold Chisel laid down Khe Sanh's memory for Australians in their eponymous 1978 anthem, its opening line - I left my heart to the sappers 'round Khe Sanh - known now across generations. Bruce Springsteen, too, immortalised the battleground in Born in the USA:

I had a brother at Khe Sanh
Fightin' off them Viet Cong
They're still there, he's all gone
Khe Sanh occupies a key spot on the Ho Chi Minh Trail, a network of roads and trails that ran from North Vietnam to South Vietnam including border regions of Laos and Cambodia. It was a route used to move supplies and reinforcements from the north into the south via Laos, which the Americans and their allies wanted to halt.
The Battle of Khe Sanh ran from January 21 to July 9, 1968, with US forces defending their combat base against the North Vietnamese People's Army of Vietnam. The base was subjected to artillery, mortar and rocket attacks, and several infantry assaults, placing it under siege. The Royal Australian Air Force No 2 Squadron took part in daylight bombing operations around the base, occasionally also flying night missions.
After many bloody battles, the base was eventually evacuated and largely destroyed. The Battle of Khe Sanh was widely believed to have played a major role in distracting US forces from the crucial Tet Offensive that foreshadowed the end of the war.

The defenders' losses were reported to be about 1000 killed and 4500 wounded, with North Vietnamese casualties believed to be far higher, but unsubstantiated.
Small parts of the Khe Sanh runways survive and there are munitions, several tanks and helicopters, and transport aircraft captured from fleeing US forces a half-century ago scattered around the former base. A Lockheed C-130 Hercules, Boeing CH-47 Chinook and a Bell UH-1 Iroquois are all on display.
You can walk through some remaining tunnels of the base, peer through the firing slits in the camouflaged bunkers, even jump onto one of the tanks for a happy snap. Many of the few Australian and US visitors visiting on this October day do.
But this is a melancholy place, eerily quiet, with barely a bird to be heard. The same is true of Dachau and other places where bad things happened.
Much of the fertile red soil surrounding the base is now used for agriculture: coffee plants thrive here, as do avocados. Green peppers, sugar cane, passionfruit and taro leaves (similar to spinach) are also grown here. But much of what used to be Khe Sanh military base is now simply overgrown. Reclaimed by nature.
There is a lady serving Ta Lu Khe Sanh coffee at the only concession kiosk. It is rather good. She tries to convince me to take some home. You can also buy a rival local coffee online at khesanh.com.vn. The coffee beans are grown by members of two ethnic minority tribes in Huong Phung and Hung Tan.

The lack of mass tourism means the only seller of trinkets we see is selling pieces of shrapnel, and some bullets that may, or may not, be real.
While the outdoor exhibits are at the mercy of the elements and look a little down-at-heel, the small on-site museum is well maintained with commentary from one viewpoint. To the victor the spoils.
This is a melancholy place, eerily quiet, with barely a bird to be heard.
Not far from Khe Sanh, you can also visit the Vinh Moc Tunnel, the tunnel shelters that Vinh Linh county people used to hide from the intense bombing in the Vietnamese Demilitarized Zone, and other battlefields.
Strangely, while the name Khe Sanh may be known to just about every Australian, many young Vietnamese have never heard of the town or the battle. Several people I spoke to in Hanoi and Da Nang had, in fact, never heard of it.
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Getting there: Vietjet flies to Ho Chi Minh City from major Australian cities including Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, and Perth, and also connects Hanoi to Sydney and Melbourne. Economy fares start at about $250, while business class fares begin at $1100.
Staying there: There are a few small hotels in Khe Sanh town where visitors can stay - including the Hotel Thai Ninh and The Khe Sanh Luxury Hotel (both have rooms for $20-30 a night and get decidedly mixed reviews) - along with several decent eateries. Most tourists, however, take a day trip or tour from either the former capital of Hue (around 2.5 hours by car), or from Da Nang (about 4.5 hours).
Touring there: Connect Travel conducts bespoke group as well as individual tours to both Khe Sanh and the Vietnamese Demilitarized Zone. connecttravel.vn/en/tour
Explore more: vietnam.travel
The writer flew to Vietnam courtesy of VietJet.
Pictures: Shutterstock; Getty Images; Winsor Dobbin






