The Most Australian Story to Ever Come Out of Vietnam |
 | | The Metropole hotel in Hanoi, Vietnam.Kham/Reuters |
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| The Australia Letter is a weekly newsletter from our Australia bureau. This week's issue is written by Damien Cave, the Australia bureau chief. |
The first hotel I ever fell in love with was the Metropole, an old-world gem in Vietnam's capital, Hanoi. My wife and I stayed there in 2007 on a break from covering the war in Iraq, and between the plush beds, the deep-ended pool in a quiet courtyard, and the rich history of the place as a hub of activity during the Vietnam War, we were smitten. |
When we returned to Hanoi recently, we stayed there again, and quite unexpectedly, we found an Australian story for the ages — a story that confirmed my appreciation for the secrets that hotels hold, and the way Australians make their way through the world. |
It has to do with a bunker. |
When we checked in, we were asked if we wanted to join a free tour. So, on our last night, we followed a guide named Tom on an hourlong historical extravaganza that traced the hotel's role. Built by the French in 1901, it served as a stand-in embassy for several countries during the Vietnam War. And because the Metropole held diplomats, combatants and bombs steered clear, making the hotel a relatively safe resting place for dignitaries and celebrities as well. |
But in 1965, as the war intensified, the hotel's managers decided to add an extra layer of protection: a five-room bunker abutting one edge of the pool. Tom told us it was used through at least the end of 1972, when Joan Baez, the American folk singer, arrived with a peace delegation that coincided with a major American attack. She ended up underground. |
Her story was well known at the time. In a Rolling Stone interview with Baez afterward, she described the bombed-out city. "It was like a moonscape with all the craters," she said. |
Then the bunker seemed to disappear. As the writer Viet Than Nguyen has noted, "wars are fought twice, the first time on the battlefield, the second time in memory" — and after the American withdrawal from Vietnam in 1973, no one seemed to have much use for a warren of tiny rooms under a fancy hotel. |
Except for one Aussie larrikin. |
"Time for the bunker," Tom said. |
He made us put on helmets as we descended stairs near one end of the pool. The air was cool, the ceilings low. The bomb shelter had been rediscovered roughly a decade ago. Water had to be pumped out, lights restored, and there was not much to see — except on a wall to our right. Tom pointed to graffiti carved into the concrete: BOB DEVEREAUX, 17 AUG 1975. |
Devereaux was an administrator for the Australian Embassy from 1975 to 1977 when it was housed in the hotel. The Australians, Tom told us, used the shelter as a wine cellar. |
I looked at my wife when we heard this. Of course they did. |
When the bunker was reopened, Devereaux read about it and called to apologize for his vandalism. He went back to the bunker a little later: Tom held up an iPad with the photo of an older Australian man with light hair and a printed shirt with scenes from the tropics. He was pointing at the mark he made on the wall. |
"I can't remember doing the graffiti," he later told a reporter. "They found a couple of empty bottles in the shelter, so it could have been while I was down there, looking for a bottle of wine." |
Now for this week's stories: |
 | | Eva Nargoodah at home in Jimbalakudunj, Australia, with her granddaughter. Many Aboriginal residents in a remote part of Western Australia had high hopes both of the referendum's chances of passing and what it might accomplish.Tamati Smith for The New York Times |
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 | | The Rio Negro, a tributary of the Amazon River, reached its lowest level ever recorded this week.Bruno Kelly/Reuters |
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