One thing I love is visiting historic sites. Another thing I love is the central highlands of Vietnam. And it’s exactly those twin passions that brought me to the town of An Khê. There sits, right in the heart of this town, perched not far from the Ba River, the venerable site of Tây Sơn Thượng Đạo—a military training ground built about 250 years ago, now a national monument. During Tet holiday 2025 I came here to learn more.

At first glance, the place might be underwhelming, especially if you’ve seen old Vietnamese sites in Hue, Hanoi or Ninh Binh. There are a modest cluster of buildings in the familiar style of Vietnamese temples, a sun-scorched courtyard, a handful of statues and exhibits— and that’s about it. Yet being one of the few places with historic remnants in the highlands of Tay Nguyen makes it a rare treat for me to visit.

Today, An Khê is a toilet break on a road-trip between Pleiku and Quy Nhon cities. But in the mid-18th century, it was a wildwest frontier, just beyond the western edge of imperial control. Getting here from the lowlands meant ascending the An Khê Pass—a steep, winding climb that even now is spectacular but challenging. But it was precisely this location, at a strategic crossing of the Ba River and near tribal trade routes, that made An Khê ideal as a mountain fastness.

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The site was founded by a man named Nguyễn Nhạc. Nguyễn Nhạc was born to a family of traders in Tây Sơn, Bình Định, working the wild frontier between lowland Vietnam and the highlands beyond. He likely knew An Khê well from his time bartering goods with the Bahnar and Jarai peoples—betel nuts for salt, forest goods for rice. In a country fractured between the Trịnh Lords in the north and the Nguyễn Lords in the south, he saw the hardship of ordinary people. Originally a tax collector, he grew into a kind of Vietnamese Robin Hood—redistributing wealth, resisting corruption, and gaining a following. The name Tây Sơn Thượng Đạo literally means the “high road” of the Tây Sơn, and Nguyễn Nhạc seems to have been a virtuous man by all accounts – taking the high road in more ways than one.

When Nguyễn Nhạc and his brothers launched their armed uprising, An Khê was a strategic choice. Tucked behind the steep slopes of the An Khê Pass and straddling the vital crossing of the Ba River, it offered both protection and access. But location alone wasn’t enough. It was Nguyễn Nhạc’s leadership—his charisma, his deep roots in the region, and his trusted relationships with local highland tribes, especially the Bahnar—that made it possible to gather a unified rebel force here. Without that rare combination of vision and local knowledge, the rebellion might never have taken root in such a crucial place—let alone succeeded.

Nguyễn Nhạc and his brothers would go on to reshape Vietnam’s political landscape—defeating the southern Nguyễn Lords, toppling the northern Trịnh, and establishing the Tây Sơn Dynasty—a more stable chapter of Vietnam’s history.

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These days, Tây Sơn Thượng Đạo draws visitors from all over the country, especially during the week long national holiday for Tet – Vietnamese New Year in spring. Tet holiday happened to be the time I had off work to visit this site and I was pleasantly surprised to find a fair set up in the field and a very festive atmosphere. Visitors could buy Bahnar food, local produce, and there was even a stand offering traditional Vietnamese calligraphy. To me, it was the perfect encapsulation of the areas diverse history.

It’s not hard to see why this site still resonates with the Vietnamese people. The people rising up to express their displeasure with the running of the country is a recuring theme in the history of Vietnam as much as anywhere – and of course the most recent time that happened is still very much in living memory. In that way, the spirit of Tây Sơn lives on.

Whether you’re a history lover, a curious traveler, or someone looking to get away from the more famous tourist sites — I suggest you stop in An Khê. Walk the grounds where a rebellion once stirred. Cross the Ba River where traders and rebels once passed. Stand where Nguyễn Nhạc trained his troops who would change the history of the nation forever.

This post is about An Khê which is a town 70km east of Pleiku via the Mang Yang pass and 55km west of Quy Nhon via the An Khê pass. Situated between these two difficult mountain passes, the town has always been an important gateway to the insulated highland interior of Gia Lai and Kontum. It was of strategic importance during the Vijayapura Champa kingdom (11th-15th century) and it’s location was used to the advantage of the Tây Sơn uprising in 1771.

The town’s role as a staging ground for military operations continued into the French colonial era and the American Vietnam War when An Khê took on a unique identity. Amid the conflict, this highland town became the home to the unusually named places of “Disneyland East,” and “The Golf Course,”. During Tet holiday, I made a stop in An Khê to learn more.

Camp Radcliff and the Origins of “The Golf Course”

Wright [Brig. Gen. John M. Wright Jr.] pointed across the dirt airstrip where a day earlier we had landed in C-130s. “Triple-canopy jungle,” he said. “Big trees about 200 feet high. Then secondary growth up to about 80 feet. Under that, bamboo, thorn thickets, shrubs, and vines. And beneath all that is grass—turf. If we could magically pluck out all that foliage, it would look like a golf course…“If we scrape away the jungle with bulldozers, in a month we’ll have a giant dust bowl. That dust will be sucked into helicopter engines and turbines. This is the end of the longest supply line in the world. Every turbine blade, air filter, every fuse—every spare part—has to travel 12,000 miles. If our heliport is a dust bowl, we’ll wear out our ships faster than we can fix them. “So we’ll create a golf course. Chop down the trees, pull out the bushes and cut the bamboo, elephant grass, and the wait-a-minute vines—but leave the turf. – Marvin J. Wolf

In 1965 the US army established Camp Radcliffe at An Khe. The helicopter landing strip there got the nickname the golf course due to the grass. Although there never really was a golf course, it’s a strange word to see associated with 1960s Gia Lai (despite several attempts in recent years, Gia Lai still does not have any golf courses as of 2025).

Click here to watch a video of An Khe from 1966

“Disneyland”

Nowhere was the shock of massive encampment greater in Viet Nam than in the sleepy little town of An Khe in the barren Central Highlands. Late last summer, 21,000 troopers of the U.S. 1st Cavalry (Airmobile) set up tents and helipads near An Khe. Prostitutes and profiteers swarmed into the town; prices for everything from beef to beer soared, as did the incidence of disease among the Americans. Dysentery and other intestinal diseases multiplied fourfold within four months; venereal disease soon afflicted nearly a third of the G.I.s.

It was the Vietnamese village elders who came up with a solution, which Kinnard reluctantly accepted as the best among unhappy alternatives: the first brothel quarter built exclusively for American soldiers in Viet Nam. Half finished, An Khe Plaza, as the sign at the M.P. gatehouse declares, or “Disneyland,” as the G.I.s call it, is a 25-acre sprawl of “boum-boum parlors” built of concrete blocks and surrounded by coils of concertina barbed wire. Each parlor consists of a bar with eight cubicles opening off the back. Eventually there will be 40 parlors, bearing such rubrics as Paradise, Caravelle, Golden Hind, Hill Billy, Washington and the Moderate Tearoom.

 The price of a “short time” varies with the demand from $2.50 to $5 and inevitably has produced grumbling. “General Kinnard ought to put his foot down,” complained one cavalryman last week. “Five bucks is too high. He oughta make three bucks the standard price.” The plaint is, of course, misdirected. An Khe Plaza is a creation of the Vietnamese and run by the Vietnamese, albeit for Americans.

Vietnamese girls who want to work in Disneyland must obtain a special entertainer’s card and visit An Khe’s clinic once a week for a medical examination by Vietnamese doctors and a U.S.-provided shot of a long-lasting penicillin-type drug to suppress disease. Forced to choose between morality and the morale of their men, the division’s officers are clearly troubled by Disneyland. But, as one colonel explained, “We wanted to get the greatest good for our men with the least harm.” For visitors to An Khe, even clerics and chaplains, Disneyland is as hard to condemn as it is to condone. In that respect, it is not unlike war itself, of which Disneylands—and far worse—are an inevitable accompaniment.

– Time magazine 1966

An Khê Today

An Khe is one of the largest towns in Gia Lai outside of Pleiku. It might seen sleepy by most people’s standards but I had a great time here for a few days with some locals and some foreign English teachers.

Although I couldn’t get anywhere near the golf course because it’s a military area, I did go to where I believe disneyland used to be, there is no sign of it’s sorded past but a local cafe owner did give me a free coffee.

links

• film footage https://archive.org/details/gov.dod.dimoc.27012

“Christmas, 1967”

The sand bags look the same:
a dismal green-grey bag leaks red clay
upon the bags below. Outside the perimeter,
children pick though the garbage,
thrown out waste of a thousand men.
Christmas in Pleiku, 1967, war fills
the surrounding hills. Across the valley
we see cloud puffs of artillery and

at night red, green, amber flares dangle,
shining bright beneath white parachutes
displays in sound and light rivaling the staged events of a thousand
towns across the “world” on New Year’s Day.
But this is Christmas: a time of truce.

Palmer Hall – source

The dirt road gave way abruptly to a stretch of wet concrete drying under the sun. Nearby, men were clearing up after a days work. A glance at Google Maps suggested I was only 1.5 kilometers from my destination, so I decided to park my moped on the verge and began walking.

From behind a hedge, an old woman called out, “Where are you going?”

“Plei Ring,” I answered.

She shook her head. “Plei Ring’s been under the lake for years. The road only leads to the water.” I replied that I think there is a monument there. “There’s no such monument” she said.

Her words lingered in my mind as I made my way forward, determined to find what I’d come for. While researching for my blog I came across the Battle of Plei Ring. I initially found references only in Vietnamese sources and found out there was a stele erected in the area to commemorate it – that’s where I was headed now. At first, I thought western records of the battle were nonexistent. It wasn’t until I closely studied old maps that I realized the discrepancy: where Vietnamese sources spell it Plei Ring, western accounts use Plei Rinh. This subtle difference highlights the care required when researching history so as not to miss important sources.

The Battle of Plei Ring involved one of the most formidable units of the French forces in the First Indochina War: Group Mobile 100 (GM100). Its core consisted of battle-hardened veterans from Korea, renowned for their valor in battles like Chipyong-ni, Wonju, and Arrowhead Ridge. The unit was bolstered by indochina troups in a process the french weirdly called « jaunissant ». After the Korean cease-fire in July 1953, this elite force was transferred to Indochina and formally reorganized as Group Mobile 100 on November 15, 1953. The G.M.s were designed as self-sustaining motorized regimental task force unit modelled on the U.S. Army’s World War II regimental combat teams. The G.M.s typically consisted of three infantry battalions with one artillery battalion, along with elements of light armor or tanks, engineer, signal and medical assets, totaling 3,000–3,500 soldiers

While up north things were heating up at Điện Biên Phủ, this veteran unit was tasked with securing strategic locations in the Central Highlands, after being battered around by the Viet Minh from Dak To down to Dak Doa, they moved to dig in at Plei Ring in the Ayun Valley, which was on what the French referred to as the “Pleiku-Ban Me Thot axis”.

The Ayun Valley is a striking contrast to the otherwise flat terrain of the Pleiku Plateau. From the ground, the plateau appears unbroken until the valley suddenly reveals itself—a vast, hidden expanse carved into the land. I was unaware of its existence during my first years in Pleiku until studying detailed 1:50,000 maps revealed the contours of this dramatic feature. Its natural concealment, reminding me of a ha-ha, probably made it an ideal approach for Vietnamese troops to advance undetected, likely influencing the strategic placement of the Plei Ring outpost.

“At that time, my unit operated in the southwest of Pleiku town, but we often marched through Ring village… Plei Ring post was located in the middle of a fairly flat valley. The post was triangular in shape, surrounded by sparse barbed wire fences, thatched roofs, about 15m in height, and they added patrols and guards. Many of my comrades on the march unfortunately died here.” – Ngô Thành (source)

On March 21, 1954, the Viet Minh’s 803rd Regiment launched a surprise attack on GM100 at Plei Ring. Employing rapid and decisive tactics, they overwhelmed the French garrison in just two hours. This victory not only disrupted the French defenses in the region but also boosted the morale of Viet Minh forces across other theaters of the war.

G.M. 100 setup camp at a small remote outpost called Plei Rinh. There they were viciously attacked again. First came the violent mortar fire, then the concentrated fire of rifles and machine guns. The CP was targeted and hit. Suddenly came the onrushing wave of black clad Viets screaming “Tien-len!” The post soon burst into flames as the Recoilless cannons peppered the grounds. All was sound, fury, and chaos. Then, as quickly as they had appeared, the soldiers of the 803rd disappeared. The toll was heavy on the French… G.M. 100 had been severely crippled. But not beaten. – source

The French reported over 250 casualties, with the Vietnamese claiming to have neutralized nearly 1,000 enemy soldiers and destroyed more than 200 vehicles. Though figures vary, the significance of the Viet Minh victory is undeniable. It disrupted French control in the area and dealt a blow to their morale during a critical phase of the war. The GM100 would retreat to Pleiku and later move to An Khe setting the stage for their ultimate downfall at the (in)famous battle of Mang Yang pass.

Today, the site of Plei Ring village itself lies beneath the waters of Ayun Hạ Lake, created by the Ayun Hạ Dam in the 1990s. A small commemorative stele near the lake honors the sacrifices made. As I followed the newly paved road called “the French pass” into what was once the fertile Ayun Valley, now transformed into a reservoir, I imagined the events that unfolded here decades ago—the place is now makes a good location for a peaceful hike in the native dipterocarp forest.

Plei Ring Victory Site Relic

The Plei Ring victory site belongs to the old Ring village, now the Ayun Ha reservoir area, Ring village, HBong commune, Chu Se district, Gia Lai province.

After Kon Tum fell, the French colonialists concentrated their forces to strengthen the defense of the Central Highlands, especially in and around Pleiku town with 9 battalions, including Mobile Regiment 100 (abbreviated as GM.100). At the end of 1949, they spread rumors to stir up public opinion, combined with consolidating the fortifications of Dak Bot station, establishing Kon Thup, Plei Ring, and Plei Tau stations as support points; in mid-1950, they strongly promoted the concentration of people in clusters near the station and traffic routes for easier control.

Carrying out orders from Inter-Zone V, Regiment 803 assigned Company 6 of Battalion 59 to attack Plei Ring post. The remaining force of the battalion acted as reserve, Battalion 39 was tasked with attacking the newly reinforced Euro-African company that was temporarily camping outside.

With the strategy of quick attack and rapid development, not giving the enemy time to react; after nearly 2 hours of fighting (from 2:30 a.m. to about 4:00 a.m. on March 21, 1954), our army eliminated more than 900 enemies from the battle, 20 vehicles were destroyed, 200 vehicles and artillery were severely damaged. On our side, 36 comrades heroically sacrificed themselves.

The Plei Ring victory of the 803rd Regiment, although not a large force, caused heavy losses in manpower and weapons and dealt a heavy blow to the enemy’s will to stay awake, creating a turning point on the Central Highlands battlefield. This was the premise for the 96th Regiment to wipe out the 100th Mobile Division at Dak Po in an ambush, threatening the enemy on the entire battlefield of Military Region 5; contributing to reducing and destroying the enemy on the spot, preventing them from supporting the main battlefields, especially the Northern Delta and Dien Bien Phu.

The relic “Plei Ring Victory Site” was ranked by the People’s Committee of Gia Lai province according to Decision No. 327/QD-UBND dated March 20, 2020. – engraving on the stele

Today, Ayun Hạ Lake covers what was once the village of Plei Ring, hiding its stories beneath the water. While the dam and reservoir serve the needs of modern life—powering homes, irrigating fields, and supporting livelihoods—they also submerge the traces of a history. The past may be buried under the water, but the stories are floating around to be found by those who look.

sources

• https://mcoecbamcoepwprd01.blob.core.usgovcloudapi.net/library/ABOLC_BA_2018/Research_Modules_B/Groupemont_Mobile_100/Vietnam_Vignette_The_French_Groupement_Mobile_100_%20Parallel_Narratives.pdf
• https://baogialai.com.vn/tro-lai-plei-ring-post91555.html
• https://www.aamtdm.net/images/stories/histoire/GM100%20Indochine%201954_aamtdm.pdf