In 1960, U.S. advisers to the South Vietnamese military initiated a dog program, aiming to use sentry dogs for base protection and scout dogs for tracking the Viet Cong. From 1965 to 1970, Pleiku Airbase, now the airport, employed 26 dogs, humorously nicknamed “Four Footed Radar,”.

On October 29th [1965], twenty-five of us received orders for Pleiku AB. That afternoon we packed our gear and boarded a C-130 headed north. Upon our arrival, we were told we were told unexpected. We just laughed it off and took our dogs off the plane, staking them out between the runway and the rice paddies. The only buildings, in the distance, near the foothills, were those the 25th Infantry Division. We soon discovered we were to share those quarters with them for the next month.

There wasn’t a place for our dogs to stay, so the first day we began by making temporary kennels for them. We put the shipping crates in two lines and staked the dogs between them. Within a couple of days we had our dogs settled in and we began guard duty at the ammo dump, the fuel storage area, and the perimeter of the base between the runway and the rice paddies.

We lived in tents and worked 12-hour shifts from 6 PM to 6 am, everyday, although once in awhile we got a day “off post” when we spent our time building a permanent type kennel for our dogs.

– John Risse (source)

Amazingly, you can find online a complete list of the dogs, their names, their handlers. One dog, Bullet was reassigned from Da Nang to Pleiku in 1967.

Another Dog Rebel appears in a lot of photographs. Rebel joined the team in pleiku in 1969. Definitely a photogenic and happy dog! I can see why there are a lot of pictures of him! Richard Schlosser was Rebel’s handler for a year from 03/31/1969 – 03/28/1970.

I’ve written before about Pleiku jackets and patches. There is a great Pleiku jacket with a silly dog face on the back which I assume has some connection to the K-9 unit.

But there is another day that REALLY sticks with me. April 22, 1966. It was another mortar attack. I was “off post” that night and Duke was at the kennels. Just after 2:00 am the first mortar hit. … When I got to the kennels Duke was up on the posting truck like he was waiting to go to post. I walked up to the truck calling his name. He was growling and barking at me… Eventually I was able to get my leash around his neck and get him under control. The veterinarian was right behind me and he was able to tranquilize him. It was only then that we were able to see that he was badly injured. He had ripped the kennel’s chain link fence trying to get out of the kennel during the attack and his back legs were totally torn up. He had lost a lot of blood and was in very bad shape. The vet told me he had to be transported to the 9th Med. Center, in Saigon,…That is the last time I saw Duke.

– John Risse (source)

If you want to know more about dogs in the vietnam war in general you can read here

In 1962, Pleiku buzzed with the onset of US operations[1]. As the war escalated, this city would transform into a key battleground, changing rapidly in response. But in 1962, Pleiku remained a tranquil oasis for the Republic of Vietnam in the wild highlands. Join me as we journey back in time with photos and quotes to capture the essence of Pleiku as those first American arrivals saw it. While not all the photos are from 1962, some are from later in the decade, I’ve aimed to recreate the atmosphere of that pivotal year.

I’ve drawn a lot of quotes from the book Saigon to Pleiku by David Noble so many thanks there.

The City Center

 When Pleiku town was first established on the land of Hoi Thuong and Hoi Phu villages, the inner-city roads were not yet developed; at that time, the French named the roads very simply: such as Hoi Thuong village’s pagoda road (French: route de la pagode Hoi-Thuong – now Su Van Hanh street), the road to the Post Office-Telegraph building (French: rue des Postes et Télégraphes, then Hoang Dieu street until 1975, now Hung Vuong street), the road to the Administrative Agency Residence (rue de Bâtiments de la Délégation, now Quang Trung street), etc. Pleiku town was planned mainly along two main axes: the business development road was Hoang Dieu street and the administrative road named Trinh Minh The street; most of the government offices and departments were located on this road (now Tran Hung Dao street) – Nguyen Quang Hien April 30, 2023

In the small town, most students walked to school. Before 1975, only the middle section of Hoang Dieu Street—approximately from the Diep Kinh intersection to the Post Office—was bustling and busy; this liveliness extended to the nearby arc: Phan Boi Chau, Quang Trung, Phan Chu Trinh, and Le Loi streets. People usually strolled around these streets. – HOÀNG TRẦN 11/05/2015

Until 1970, Pleiku city only had 3 buildings with 3 floors or more, which were: Hoang Lieng restaurant next to Diep Kinh theater (Hoang Lieng is now Hung Vuong hotel), Minh Duc private school (now Le Loi high school) and Saigon Moi shop (in front of the Moi market’s tent). There were 2-storey houses at that time but not many, only a few well-off families – Nguyễn Quang Hiền 29/02/2024

Low-rise buildings, rarely going as high as three stories, defined the cityscape[2]. The primary modes of transport were walking, cyclos, tuk-tuks (Italian Lambro 550s), and the occasional jeep—a stark contrast to Saigon’s streets filled with shiny, fashionable 60s cars. The streets were shaded by 30-year-old trees planted by the French, some of which still stand today, though many have sadly been removed and paved over.

By the way, speaking of Trinh Minh The Street, now known as Tran Hung Dao Street, it was the most beautiful street in the provincial town, lined with many public offices, residences, and old trees, and had little traffic. Later on, when Pleime Girls’ High School and then Pham Hong Thai Semi-Public School were established, this street during dismissal time was always filled with the white ao dai of the schoolgirls, and naturally, there was no shortage of lovelorn boys following! – HOÀNG TRẦN 11/05/2015

Although Pleiku was the provincial capital, it was not a large town with, depending on the season, a dusty or muddy main street and several side streets, People gathered at public pumps to draw their water in cans. The main drag had a series of textile shops owned and managed by Indians of dark complexions. Indians were Vietnam’s ubiquitous street merchants. There were other shops, too, including a jewelry store where I considered investing in a gold wedding ring for potential future use because the price seemed remarkably low. – David Noble, Saigon to Pleiku

[The Montagnards] walk through town single file (out of habit from using narrow mountain trails) with baskets strapped to their backs and babies hung on their sides (and usually hanging on to a tit for dear life!). Or they squat around smoking weird pipes, their shaggy hair falling over their shoulders… an amazing sight! – Letter by David Noble, September 13th 1962

I frequented the Blue Spring Bar in Pleiku where, as in Saigon, two or three local girls would invite us to buy them shots of their colored-water beverage while we drank ba muoi ba, chatted with them, and tossed dice. – David Noble, Saigon to Pleiku

Hoi Phu

Hoi Thuong and Hoi Phu, now wards of Pleiku city, were separate villages in 1962 that actually predated the city itself. These areas were ramshackle affairs, likely growing up around the junction of roads QL14 and QL19.

Today, they are fully integrated into Pleiku, yet they still retain traces of their past which are arguably the most notable landmarks of the city (such as Minh Thanh pagoda and bờ kè embankment).

Conditions for Soldiers

There were 6 of us Air Force guys working along side the Army guys who were working with the ARVN and the Montagnards in and around Pleiku.

At first, we ate from C-rations, dated 1946. Later we had a small mess hall where we ate a lot of powdered this and powdered that and lot’s of SOS. But, we also had some local foods like Papaya, Tea and Bananas.   

We were housed in a mud hut with a tiled roof and a dirt floor. There were a couple of shutters with no glass, so we had plenty of mosquitos, bugs and snakes and rats everywhere to keep us company. We slept on cots with air mattresses with mosquito net on each cot. Didn’t seem to help much because the rats would somehow get under the nets and of course scare the daylights our of us, not to mention the gunfire and explosions nearby. To this day, I often wake up thinking of those rats crawling on me. Can’t get rid of that experience. I hate rats!!

But we also had a lot of rain to deal with. It was the beginning of the rainy season and we were wet all the time, it seemed, until September.

My buddy Rodney and I got back into the Village a couple of times but all I remember is getting a haircut one time and drinking some Ba Me Ba [sic]. This was a warm liter bottle of beer that had some formaldehyde in it. It was awful, and they told us not to drink it, but we did! There was also an opium den next to where we were. We stayed out of there, but what an eye opener.

– Wilbur Orson (source)

Bien Ho

When the dust of Pleiku became overwhelming, residents and visitors alike could retreat to the serene Bien Ho Lake for some much-needed rest and relaxation. Although the pine trees it’s famous for today hadn’t yet been planted, this tranquil haven offered a perfect escape from the daily grind, where one could enjoy the calm waters and picturesque surroundings. Whether for a leisurely picnic or a dip in the cool water, Bien Ho Lake was the ideal spot to recharge. People weren’t afraid to get in the water like they are today.

A couple of times [Captain Bang] even invited me to join him and his family on Sunday picnic outings at nearby Bien Ho Lake, where the kids would paddle around in the shallows, and, out of the corner of my eye, I would watch Montagnard women bathing. – David Noble, Saigon to Pleiku

The City Today

Now, the streets of Pleiku are half familiar, half strange. The main streets are still those beloved roads. However, Nguyen Tat Thanh Avenue and the newly opened roads towards the west have made the old downtown area feel increasingly small. In the past, reaching the Kilometer 3 milestone or Phu Dong intersection felt far, very far. But now, even driving all the way along Pham Van Dong Street to Bien Ho still feels close… – HOÀNG TRẦN 11/05/2015

Someone who lived and taught in Pleiku for a while shared his thoughts when he revisited Pleiku after nearly 40 years: The Pleiku of the past in his memory is really no longer there, now the roads, houses, and urban landscape are completely different from before. The place where he lived and taught was known as “Pleiku – dusty sun, muddy rain” but now it is an urban area with a remarkable growth rate and change. – Nguyễn Quang Hiền 29/02/2024

During the urban development process, many trees planted since the establishment of Pleiku town in 1929 have been cut down and it seems that there is something unreasonable about the types and methods of planting urban trees. The expansion of roads and the scarcity of fuel have caused many pine trees nearly a hundred years old to be cut down. Early in the morning, if you walk on Hai Ba Trung, Hoang Hoa Tham, Quang Trung streets… you can see the “old” trees of the past still lying deep inside the sidewalk, quite far from the edge of the widened road. Looking back, we see that cutting down the old trees was a pity. Nguyen Quang Hien April 30, 2023

The city has changed a lot but every so often I catch glimpses that look like they could be from these old photos.

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I’ll end on a poem written by Vũ Hữu Định about a 1970 visit to Pleiku to see his girlfriend. It’s entitled “Còn một chút gì để nhớ” (There’s little to remember). Translation thanks to Joshua Furler, original text here.

Mountain town high, mountain town full of fog
Mountain town has green trees, the sky is low and sorrowful
A strange visitor climbs up and down
fortunate to have you so that life remains sweet

Mountain town high, it reaches close to the heavens
A friendly atmosphere within streets that don't stretch far
In only a few minutes you can return to that old place
Every other afternoon there fills me with a deep melancholy

Pleiku girl with red cheeks and pink lips
Each afternoon feels like the passing of Winter
It leaves her eyes wet and her hair damp
Her skin soft like afternoon clouds

I am grateful to the city that has you
I am grateful for that soft head of hair
Tomorrow feels so distant, next to that hill on the border
I still have something more to ponder 

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Sources

[1]: https://www.historynet.com/vietnam-highlands/

[2]: https://baotangtinh.gialai.gov.vn/tin-tuc-su-kien/Tin-tong-hop/TAN-MAN-VE-NHA-CUA-CUA-PLEIKU-TRUOC-1975

[3]: https://baotangtinh.gialai.gov.vn/tin-tuc-su-kien/Tin-tong-hop/Pleiku-Nhung-neo-duong-xua,-nhung-hang-cay

Jewelry plays a significant role in the cultures of the space of gong culture, including items like beaded bracelets, necklaces, metal belts, jingle bracelets, ear plugs, earrings, and torques. As in most cultures worldwide, this jewelry can be worn for purely aesthetic reasons or can hold deeper meaning for the individual on a personal level or social level.

Among this array of jewelry, simple metal bangles stand out as particularly culturally significant. In Vietnam’s Central Highlands, these plain bands, made of copper, bronze, or even silver, hold profound cultural value. Today, these bangles are not only worn by highlanders proud of their heritage but have also become prized collectibles for enthusiasts of Vietnam War memorabilia, for reasons we’ll explore below.

For many people, these bangles act as enduring symbols, mementos that are presented to encapsulate various important occasions such as rituals, promises and life milestones. I’ll explore three such rituals, though this is not an exhaustive list. Firstly, we’ll look at how bangles are used for protection and promote good health. Next, we’ll look at they are exchanged during sworn-brother ceremonies. Lastly, we will look at how bangles can play a crucial role in marriage ceremonies.

Bangles for Health and Protection

Mr. Y Yuin Niê in Ea Ngai commune, (Krong Buk district) said that after a very serious traffic accident, his parents gave him a bronze bracelet in the hope of recovering from the accident. And like a miracle, the bracelet helped him gradually stabilize his health and recover quickly. Every time someone in the family is sick, the Ede people wear a bracelet that has been blessed to help the sick person get well quickly. – 2021 source

The copper bracelet is like a witness of the yang to protect and bless the person wearing the bracelet. After making offerings, the copper bracelet will be engraved with a number of marks corresponding to the number of wine jars used for the ceremony, then brought to the owner, with a maximum of 7 engraved marks. – source

The protection these bangles offer may be spiritual in nature, however, during the war, for American soldiers, wearing such a bangle had a very tangible worldly effect; It allowed the indigenous highlanders to tell which individuals had demonstrated kindness and generosity to highland people, who were often called savages by the French and Republic of Vietnam. This lead to many Americans to refer to these as “friendship bracelets.”

Many of the green beret-boys wear a simple brass coil around one wrist—not to be fashionable, but for added life insurance. “A bracelet identifies you as a friend of the Montagnards,” explained Capt. Larry Brown at II Corps Hq. in Pleiku. “If you are out alone and get into trouble, the bracelet could make the difference in being rescued.” – STARS AND STRIPES • December 15, 1965

The cost of a bracelet…we paid for them in a lot of ways. Often they were gifts, sometimes a few cigarettes were traded, for the bracelet, some C rations were a good trade, sometimes we were given the bracelets for just being in the area. Montenyards were a generous people for all the ones I knew. – Steve Richey, on Mon, 19 Aug 2002

Were similar bangles given to soldiers and guerrillas from the North? I’m certain it must be the case, as there are many reports of individuals earning immense respect from the locals. Unfortunately, I have not found any contemporary writings or photos to confirm this. If you have any information or sources, please reach out and let me know!

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Bangles in Sworn-Brother Ceremonies

The second use of bangles is to mark brotherhood, known as “Jiang” or “Jiang Mah” in Jrai, which translates to “ally” or “sworn brother” (anh em kết nghĩa in Vietnamese). Historically, a Ptuh Jiang or Tuh Jiang ceremony involved animal sacrifice, drinking jar wine mixed with chicken blood, and exchanging bangles . The bangles represent an unbreakable promise (indeed they may also be used to enforce a promise of improved behavior after a misdemeanor). From the day they take the ceremony, the jiang brothers swear to help each other through thick and thin and the bangle acts as a reminder of that promise. I like to think of this ceremony as like a wedding for a “bromance”.

Anthropologist Jonathan Padwe observed this in Jrai culture in Ratanakiri, Cambodia around 2001. From interviews I’ve conducted in Gia Lai, older residents recall the ceremony from their youth, but it has become rare today. However newspapers still report it in Ede and Mnong cultures in Dak Lak.

Mr. Y To Bkrong said that when the Ede people love someone outside their clan and want to become a brother, they will hold a twinning ceremony. After worshiping, the bronze bracelet is given to the sworn brother. – source

Y Jhon, Gillespie, and Truong stepped out, dressed in traditional Montagnard clothing for the two-hour ceremony. As Gillespie, Y Jhon, and Truong drank Nhom Pae through long reeds, a Montagnard shaman chanted and daubed their bare feet with the blood of the sacrificed buffalo to drive the evil spirits away. At the same time, “Montagnard women danced in the background to the tune of brass gongs.” When the ceremony ended, the shaman placed identical copper bracelets on the wrists of Y Jhon, Gillespie, and Truong to symbolize the bond of brotherhood and friendship. The three soldiers from different cultures were now joined together as allies – Howard James Sochurek source

An interesting tidbit here is that the classic western movie star John Wayne visited the Gia Lai/Kontum area in 1966 where he was gifted one of the bangles as a sign of brotherhood. You can catch glimpses of the bangle in True Grit. Did “Duke” perform the full sworn-brother ceremony like Gillespie? I think it’s likely he did a modified version like David Noble describes doing in Plei Mrong in 1962.

the most famous gift Duke was given in Vietnam was the silver friendship bracelet presented by a Montagnard Strike Force unit, made up of indigenous Vietnamese soldiers. The bracelet was bent to fit his wrist, and he wore it for the rest of his life. – source

Much has been written about the movie star’s visit in preparation for the movie The Green Berets but sources are vague on the locations he visited. However, “Sergeant Gilbert Mumfort of the Fourth Infantry Division” is mentioned in connection with this visit. The 4th Infantry Division was involved in the battle of Dak To the following year. Additionally, there is a video that mentions Operation Hawthone, which also took place around Dak To so I think it’s safe to say he probably visited Dak To.

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Bangles in Marriage

Another important cultural role of these bangles is their role in marriage. This practice, too, revolves around the theme of an unbreakable promise. A couple can exchange copper bangles that stand for fidelity and responsibility (source). Unlike some traditional practices that have faded over time, this custom remains common in 2024 although some Jrai I spoke to consider it old-fashioned. I think for those of us from a western Christian background its easy to see parallels with wedding rings.

The Gia-rai bracelet, in addition to its aesthetic function as jewelry, also performs a social function, has great significance in engagement, as the first sign of marriage….[A woman] pulls out a bracelet and asks the matchmaker (greng) to bring it and give it to her beloved. If the boy agrees, he will take the bracelet. If not, he will hold the bracelet for a while and then return it to the matchmaker. If the girl still pursues, she can ask the matchmaker to give her one, two, three more times until all hope is gone. If the boy accepts it, the matchmaker arranges a date to meet at a certain location for the girl to receive her partner’s bracelet. – source 2006

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The cultural significance of bangles in Vietnam’s Central Highlands is rich and multifaceted. Whether for protection, marking brotherhood, or symbolizing marital union, these bangles are deeply embedded in Montagnard traditions. Despite the passage of time and rapid changes in the region, some practices endure. From their historical roots to their present-day relevance, these bangles offer a fascinating glimpse into the region’s fascinating cultural heritage.

The history of the type of jacket called a “Pleiku Jacket” starts in the aftermath of the Second World War. At that time, the remnants of parachute capes found new life as they were transformed by American soldiers into what came to be known as souvenir jackets. These jackets, inspired by baseball jackets of the time, often showcased intricate Japanese designs, reflecting the cultural exchanges of the era – dragons and tigers were particularly popular.

This trend continued through the Korean and Vietnam Wars.. It was here in Pleiku that these jackets truly made their mark. Handmade by skilled Indian tailors, these creations became known all over Southeast Asia as Pleiku Jackets. Not only did they put the small town on the map but also left a lasting impression on the culture of the Vietnam War, both in Vietnam and back in the United States.

“One of the most visible forms of material culture of the GI experience in Vietnam were the embroidered jackets known as “Pleiku” jackets – decorated jackets featuring dragon designs, stylized maps, flags, eagles, and verses. Decorated “tour” jackets, whether they be “Pleiku” jackets (names for the established practice of making these jackets in Pleiku, Vietnam) or decorated working jackets worn by sailors, were visual testaments to membership in both a branch of service and a distinct smaller unit.”

“Souvenir jackets were not only made for GIs to wear; children’s sizes were also produced. Decorated with city names, with the dates of a tour of duty, a map of Vietnam, and with American and Vietnamese flags, these silk jackets carried the words, “My Brother is in Vietnam.” Sent home to younger brothers, these jackets appeared on playgrounds during the wartime years – although they were rarely worn due to the antiwar sentiment at home”

source: C. KURT DEWHURST The Journal of American Folklore Vol. 101, No. 399 (Mar. 1988), pp 48

“the almost universal slogan on tour jackets, “When I die I’ll go to heaven, because I’ve spent my time in hell,” followed by the city in which one served and the years of one”

source: STEPHEN SOSSAMAN, The Journal of American Folklore, Vol. 102, No. 403 (Jan. – Mar., 1989), p. 76 (1 page)

Indian Tailors of Pleiku

“The main drag had a series of textile shops owned and managed by the Indians of dark complexions.“

David Grant Noble on his time in Pleiku in 1962 (Saigon to Pleiku 2020)

Patches

Soldiers often went further to customize their jackets with patches, turning each Pleiku Jacket into a unique memento of their service. These patches added a personal touch, reflecting individual experiences, affiliations, and sentiments. These customizations made each jacket a distinctive piece of history, capturing the diverse and personal stories of those who wore them. A poular motif on the patches was the phrase “Sorry about that”.

“If we were bombing “those gooks back into the Stone Age,” well buddy, sorry about that. While attached to a Marine Corps group, I heard the phrase repeatedly used by “grunts” whenever the conversation swung to destruction of hamlets or civilian casualties. The attitude was . . . well, that happens, there’s nothing I can do about it; sorry about that” – Andrew Shinnick

After the War

“I only wore my working jacket once after I left the Navy in 1967. I went to a bar in West Palm Beach shortly after being discharged. I was with a friend who had not been in the service. He was uncomfortable about my wearing it, but he didn’t say a word until later. At the bar, I was immediately singled out by several young patrons. No one said anything directly to me, but I couldn’t help but hear the comments . . . the usual “Baby Killer” crap I read about. I was astounded.. . .I was terribly embarrassed and then angry. I never wore the jacket again.”- Andrew Shinnick

“there are not a whole lot of them [jackets] around because they were shed like snakeskin at the departure gate at Tan Son Nhut, dumped in trash cans at the Oakland outprocessing center, and kindly left for the Salvation Army pickup by parents who cleaned out their son’s closet. The memories are just too strong” – John Turner

If anybody has a photo from the 60s or 70s of someone wearing a tour jacket please get in touch, I can’t find any photos online and I’d love to include one

As a self-proclaimed tea nerd, it’s quite an oversight on my part that I haven’t delved into how deeply Pleiku’s identity is steeped in tea until now. Tea production in this region is a cornerstone of Pleiku’s identity today, with roots tracing back to the era of French colonization.

Setting the Scene

Our tale begins in 1925, over three decades since Vietnamese emperors yielded to French colonial rule. Despite this shift, the Tay Nguyen Plateau remained a wild frontier, though the French – themselves recovering in the aftermath of World War I – were slowly making inroads. At this time, the region was largely autonomous, with ethnic Vietnamese sparsely scattered amidst the predominantly Montagnard population. In this year the infamous Pleiku Prison was constructed to help maintain French authority by hook or by crook.

Nature reigned supreme in this domain, with rivers teeming with crocodiles and jungles prowled by tigers and pythons. Within this daunting landscape, pith-helmeted Frenchmen boldly embarked on endeavors to establish tea plantations and impose their version of “civilization” upon the wild highlands.

The Moï province of Kontum occupies, in Center-Annam, a medium altitude plateau (600 to 900m) whose richness in “terres rouges” tempted so many colonists that the General Government of Indochina considered it necessary to carry out a preliminary investigation on the state of health of agricultural operations in this region. The local population being relatively sparse and having reduced working capacities, it was likely that they would quickly need to call on imported labor whose fragility is common knowledge in colonies… The first priority was therefore fixing the climatic characteristics and pathology of a region whose development was going to require the immediate mobilization of thousands of coolies from Tonkin or the more populated lowlands. – “LE PALUDISME [malaria] DANS LA PROVINCE MOI” Archives des Instituts Pasteur d’Indochine 1928

In fact, the region has only been open to colonization through effective pacification and the development of roadways since 1924 under the leadership of M. le Résident Fournier. In 1926, more than one hundred thousand hectares of land were, after prospecting, requested in concession by French and foreign planters.

As we know, the Moi people do not have much sympathy for immigrants. Since a large number of immigrants are employed in certain plantations, this often leads to conflicts and ends in regrettable ways. This is how the minorities attacked a bus on the road: Three passengers were killed by poisoned arrows and several others were injured. Acts of sabotage were also carried out on a rubber plantation (referring to the Dak Joppau plantation in An Khe – NQH). After these events, a militia was sent to suppress the rebels, but the Montagnards fled and retreated into the forest. As punishment, it was decided to use planes from Bien Hoa (NQH: newspapers wrote from Bien Hoa according to the information they had) to suppress them. A military squadron was assigned to bomb several villages of the Montagnards.” ( Une révolte chez les Moïs , 1929, p.11830).

CATECKA (Chè Bàu Cạn)

Amidst this backdrop, the most renowned tea plantation of the era emerged: CATECKA (Compagnie Agricole des Thés et Cafés du Kontum Annam) situated near Bàu Cạn and established in the same pivotal year of 1925. Thanks to the Gia Lai Museum for some wonderful resources (1, 2, 3) so I didn’t have to dredge through too much French for my research.

 Catecka, Bau Can tea department, employed about 800 coolies – source

The harsh labor regime at Bau Can plantation made the material and spiritual lives of workers extremely difficult and miserable, with poor food, poor health, and constant illness. Plantation workers were severely exploited, beaten, berated, fined, and female workers were raped. They also poisoned workers with alcohol, tea, opium, and gambling, causing them to fall into debt. Once they borrowed money, the debt would be passed on to their children. Entire lives were tied to the plantations; slaves to the French owner.- Gia Lai Museum

Fast forward to 1962, where the acronym has seamlessly transitioned into the word “Catecka” (as seen on the map). Our next insightful source comes from David Noble‘s fascinating book “Saigon to Pleiku.” In his memories, during his visit with the US military, Noble met the then manager, a Frenchman named Claude Salvaire. Notably, Catecka was then a supplier of black tea leaves to none other than Lipton Tea.

“There, under the influence of gin and tonics, he regaled us with stories, his favorite being about his tiger hunts on the property. Trophies on the wall bore evidence of his shooting skill. His hunting method, he told us was to tie a live goat to a tree out in tiger territory and wait in a blind through the night. When he heard the sounds of a tiger killing the goat, he would shoot it” – David Noble

It’s fascinating to consider a Frenchman like Claude overseeing a business in what essentially was the wild west, particularly in the aftermath of the Điện Biên Phủ conflict. Undoubtedly, it must have been a chaotic and unpredictable era.

“These French are a weird crowd. They are the dregs of the French Empire who have not wanted to return. As far as I’m concerned, anyone who would choose to remain in this country must have a pretty damned good reason for not going home. And most of them do. Either they ran into big trouble in French and sought refuge in Indo China long ago or they were adventurers and scoundrels in the Foreign Legion who deserted when the chips were down. They have free travel throughout the country since the VC [Viet Cong] don’t bother with them except to tax the plantations. Many of them have very colorful and unusual pasts.” – David Noble, 19th of February 1963

“Not a quarter-mile through the tea bushes from Brown’s tents stood a lovely white colonial mansion. The French plantation manager lived there, and if you strolled the road you caught glimpses of young women in bikinis taking the sun beside the swimming pool. The mansion had been neither mortared nor attacked the night before. Army intelligence said the French owners paid the Viet Cong a million piasters a year in protection money and paid the Saigon government three million piasters a year in taxes. The plantation billed the U.S. government $50 for each tea bush and $250 for each rubber tree damaged by combat operations. Just one more incongruity.” – We Were Soldiers Once…and Young– writing about 1965, published 1992

The legacy of the Catecka tea plantation endures to this day under the management of CTCP Chè Bàu Cạn. With a sprawling 450-hectare plantation, they continue to produce approximately 2,600-2,800 tons of tea annually (source). The name “Catecka” persists in some of the branding even in 2024, serving as a poignant reminder of its storied past.

“There was a huge tea plantation that was very close to the base camp and that was an area where the enemy could hide-out very easily. And it was a dangerous area” – Frank Farrell (2:20)

Links

• video

STI Biển Hồ Chè

According to the manager, there are 600 women and 150 groups of tea pickers each day – From Bao Dai’s visit in 1933

Biển Hồ Chè, perhaps more renowned today than Catecka for it’s tourism, shares a similar inception story. Established in 1925 under the unfortunate name STI (Société des Thés de l’Indochine), both companies capitalized on the expertise of a visiting Dutch Engineer named Van Mannen to kickstart their operations, particularly in the processing of black tea after harvesting. According to the newspaper L’Éveil économique de l’Indochine (Indochina Economic Awakening), issue dated January 6, 1929: by the end of 1927, Pleiku Bien Ho tea plantation had planted 500 hectares of tea trees (on an area of application is 2,810 hectares) at a cost of about $1,050 per hectare.

Sources about Bien Ho Che are much sparser during the war compared to CATECKA. However it was mentioned in 1969 meaning it was probably functional, or at least not totally destroyed.

Bien Ho Che has become one of the main tourist destinations in Pleiku. Visitors flock not only to capture photos amidst the rows of low tea trees but also to admire the towering pine trees that line the roads, dubbed “100-year-old pine trees” by locals. Visitors can enjoy a freshly brewed cup of tea at one of the charming roadside cafes situated right beside the very trees that yielded the tea leaves.

Today the plantation is managed by CTCP Chè Biển Hồ – find them in the Yellow Pages (a bit of history in itself!)

The story isn’t all tea and biscuits; these plantations left an indelible mark on the natural environment and the indigenous way of life. Yet, after delving into their history, there is something to admire about their resilience. Rising from the wilderness and weathering two tumultuous wars, they’ve emerged as beacons of tranquility today. Despite their rocky past, they beckon visitors to escape the urban chaos and find solace in Pleiku’s serene landscape. I think these plantations serve as a testament to Pleiku’s ability to acknowledge its past while embracing progress.

Dak Doa

There was another plantation at Dak Doa (in modern Dak Krong). I’m currently researching so if you’re interested, watch this space. If you can’t wait you can read the Vietnamese for yourself, or the french.