issue 54 - AsiaLIFE Magazine

Carl Robinson
The American-turned-Australian was a correspondent for The Associated
Press’s Saigon bureau from 1968 to 1975, and now returns to the country
regularly with his Vietnamese wife. Photo by Fred Wissink.
What was it like being here
in the 70s?
My perspective was always
different from other correspondents,
more politics-oriented,
because prior to that I had
worked with USAID and because
I knew the Vietnamese. I
didn’t cover much shoot-em-up,
bang-bang stuff. I learned early
on, you can get killed doing
that. I lost a lot of colleagues
who went out on the frontlines.
I covered opposition politics.
I also did a lot of social sorts
of stories, Tet stories, refugee
stories.
Did you have any close calls?
The hairiest operation I was involved
in was the Laos invasion
in 1971, being under artillery
fire, being ambushed out on the
road. But I never pretended to
be a combat reporter. I was a
correspondent and there was a
war going on.
What about the day-to-day?
I’d get up, have breakfast, get
on my motorbike, and get to the
office by 7.30 or 8am. I’d catch
up with what happened overnight,
ongoing developments.
As photo editor, you were making
sure your photographers
can ship down to you from
where they are. In the afternoon,
photos would be coming
down and reporters would
be calling in. We also covered
Cambodia, so we’d meet the
plane, get the photos. It took 20
minutes for each photo to be
sent through shortwave radio
through Tokyo. And Vietnam
could intercept them, and they
did sometimes, using them for
their own propaganda. NBC
was next to us, they had to ship
their film out every time. We
didn’t realise the impact our
photos were having, but we
wanted to know who had won
the competition for play that
day. Some we knew, the photo
of the Viet Cong execution
or the napalm girl, we knew
something like that would be
dynamite.
Tell me about your colleagues.
There were 100 or so in the
press corps. There was a line
between the boozers and
the heads (drug users). You
socialise with each other. I was
a head. This street was full of
girly bars (pointing to Dong
Khoi). There were only French
restaurants, so it’s nice to see
that’s changed. There were not
a lot of Vietnamese restaurants
then, so a lot of correspondents’
first encounter with Vietnamese
food was [my wife] Kim’s
cooking. Remember, there was
a midnight curfew. The streets
were deserted. You could get
a pass but it was better not
to push your luck because
they had militias out, military
patrols. If you invited people
over for dinner, it became a
sleepover.
What stories were you
most proud of?
I was one of the journalists who
broke the tiger cage stories on
Con Dao island. There were
heart-wrenching stories about
political prisoners. I was quite
pleased with my coverage of
the Laos invasion; got photos
of people hanging onto a
helicopter.
What’s it like returning
to Vietnam?
It’s really exciting getting to
know Vietnam. One thing that’s
helpful in me getting over
Vietnam is becoming very interested
and knowledgeable about
Vietnamese history. We were
just a part of Vietnam’s long
sweep of history. We weren’t the
first, don’t feel bad.
What are these tours
you organise?
We bring Australian veterans
and Viet Kieu back here. It’s important
to come back here and
see Vietnam again, especially
vets, they have a lot of baggage.
They bring their wives along,
and by the end, [the wives]
understand where it all comes
from. It’s a life-changing experience.
The Vietnamese haven’t
been wallowing. They’re a good
example for the veterans. I think
seeing them and the attitude
of the Vietnamese is good for
them. It’s been the most heartening
thing we’ve done, getting
them together with old enemies.
By the end, they’re all drunk
and hugging and they get it.
The best thing you can do is go
back to a traumatic place and
get over it.
How do you think people here
deal with the history?
Vietnamese are very pragmatic.
They don’t have time to sit
around and be bitter. We think
there must be guilt, ingrained
guilt, you feel bad if you do
something bad. Here, the bad is
accepted; the good and the bad,
the yin and yang. Buddhism
is part of it, life is suffering.
Whereas in the west, we’re
always looking for solutions,
we strive for happiness and we
don’t know how fleeting happiness
is.
18 asialife HCMC