DIARY - Thursday 21st February 2008 I got lost yesterday. Totally confused, no map, no GPS, no sunshine, no sense. This is why I find myself at My Lai, the site of one of the most horrific massacres of the Vietnam War. U.S. troops systematically killed a total of 504 women, children and old people on March 16 1968 in the peaceful village and the surrounding area. They then ploughed the area to cover up their atrocities. What made it worse was that it was documented by an American war photographer who followed and recorded their every move. These photographs are on display in the museum which has been erected on the site.
In the museum I was the only European at that time, although it is visited by many American ex-servicemen. There was tangible hostility from a group of visiting Vietnamese, so much so that I held up my hands and said very loudly 'I'm English, it's nothing to do with me'. With true woman's logic I blamed the scooter, which I had come to loathe. It was the Honda's fault I had landed up here probably giving myself nightmares over the photographs for weeks to come and a sore butt from the awful riding position. Don't even try and understand my sentiments, I wanted to be at home, away from the rain, the food and the filth, I just wanted someone to share some of the burden with and all I had to talk to was a flipping Honda automatic. It was going up the road that the Honda let me into a secret. There are four gears, all down. To stop you just use the brakes and come to a rest in fourth gear. Then you press down again and there, in all its glory, is neutral. Oh, how I miss my own bike!