As a reader of Vietcetera, you may be among those living in what you believe to be genuine peace. But not everyone shares that same reality. Why is that? Isn’t peace a given for all of us?
That assumption, while comforting, overlooks a hard truth: remnants of war still linger across Vietnam. In certain regions, people continue to live under the shadow of unexploded ordnance - silent threats buried beneath layers of soil, waiting to detonate.
If you’ve seen The Scent of Burnt Grass - a film that captures the brutal 81-day siege of Quảng Trị Citadel, you may understand what I mean. But the number 81 does not mark the end. Many generations continue to suffer (physically and psychologically) from the war’s lasting impact.
Quảng Trị, often referred to as “the land of fire,” remains one of the most bomb-ridden places in Vietnam. Yet in this episode of Have A Sip, we’re offered a different lens, one that portrays resilience and strength through the perspective of Chuck Searcy - an American veteran who has made Vietnam his home for over three decades.
Vietnam Should Treat Peace As A National Asset
Rarely, if ever, has anyone dared to declare: “Vietnam is one of the few nations in the world with no enemies.” Rarer still when such a statement comes from a former US officer, once on the other side of history.
To the generations born after the war, peace may feel ordinary, even unremarkable. But Chuck Searcy sees it differently. To him, Vietnam’s 50 years of peace symbolize resilience, compassion, and a consistent, principled approach to diplomacy. Vietnam, in his view, is not merely a country that has survived war. It is a nation that can teach the world what it means to build peace.
He points to Vietnam’s “Four No’s” defense policy as evidence of this mature global posture:
- No military alliances
- No alignment with one country against another
- No foreign military bases on its soil
- No use or threat of force in international relations
These are not abstract principles. They are the product of a nation intimately familiar with the costs of “losing”. That is why, according to Chuck, not cuisine, not festivals, peace is Vietnam’s most distinctive national brand.
He continues to grapple with a persistent question: “Why has humanity failed to achieve peace?” The answer may be elusive, but he believes that now, more than ever, it is a question we must confront.
First lesson for the young generation: There are no miracles. Everything, especially peace must be earned through effort, courage, and wisdom.
Generational Gap In Wartime and Peacetime
“You’re not an American anymore,” Chuck’s father told him after he returned from Vietnam and publicly denounced the war. His father, himself a former World War II POW, could not reconcile with his son’s transformation.
Chuck had served as a U.S. military intelligence officer in Saigon during the war. Upon returning to the U.S., he joined the Vietnam Veterans Against the War and became an antiwar advocate. His activism was visibly televised and cost him his relationship with his family for two years.
Eventually, Chuck’s father came to accept that his son had chosen the right path. It took time, reflection, and the weight of history to bridge that rift. But Chuck never wavered in his belief that staying true to one's convictions, even in the face of isolation was worth it.
Generational gaps are not unique to any era. But whereas conflicts of the past might have caused outright familial breakage, today’s divides often show up as misunderstandings, rooted in differing worldviews.
Young people today must navigate an overwhelming world of digital noise and societal pressure. Chuck believes the only remedy is honest intergenerational dialogue which is rooted in empathy and genuine listening.
Second lesson: Be honest, with yourself and others. And beyond honesty, strive to listen and truly understand those around you.
Standing Still Even When Bombs Lie Beneath Your Feet
Quảng Trị has left a deep impression on Chuck Searcy, not only as a site of past devastation but as a place of profound transformation.
At one time, 81% of Quảng Trị’s land was considered potentially contaminated by unexploded ordnance. Accidents occurred regularly. On some days, clearance teams dealt with dozens of devices. Some were safely removed, others detonated on-site, just meters away from residential areas.
The exact number of remaining bombs remains unknown. But as Chuck notes, “People have had to accept that there are bombs underground.” The key, he says, is education, equipping children with the knowledge to recognize and respond to UXO threats.
Thanks to the decades-long efforts of organizations like Project RENEW, Norwegian People’s Aid, and the support of local communities and Vietnamese partners, Quảng Trị recorded zero bomb-related accidents in 2019.
Yet the people of Quảng Trị remain. Their lives continue in former war zones that are now schools, playgrounds, coffee shops, and farms.
Third lesson: Don’t wait for ideal conditions to begin. The world is unpredictable, learn to stand firm even outside your comfort zone.
A Life Without Any Plan?
Looking back, Chuck realizes that most of the pivotal moments in his life were unplanned. People often assume he had a grand vision. In truth, he never had a life plan at all.
Growing up in Georgia, he remembers hearing the saying: while we’re busy planning our lives, life is busy happening. That mindset helped him embrace the present, and ultimately, a future he had never imagined - 30 years in Vietnam.
When he first became involved in UXO clearance, he was no expert. In fact, he never personally defused a single bomb. What he did was build bridges, connecting the right people with the right skills. He never needed a spotlight, nor applause. All he needed was the knowledge that a child somewhere might avoid injury because of his efforts. That, to him, was enough.
Final lesson: Don’t worry about which door leads where. Whatever your background, if you pursue your path with sincerity and perseverance, success, sooner or later, will find its way to you.
We, the younger generation, don’t need to experience war to understand the value of peace. But we need to listen to conversations like these to grasp what we’ve inherited, recognize the ground we walk on, and understand the responsibility we carry for the future ahead.