Captured Viet Cong Propaganda

The Hampton Roads Naval Museum’s "Ten Thousand-Day War at Sea" exhibit is home to various propaganda artifacts, such as the one that hangs above the sampan in the Riverine area, which reads: “(1) To the military brothers, don’t listen to the American soldiers. (2) Punji sticks are for the Americans, don’t go in. (3) The military who kills the Americans is patriotic.” This sign was captured by members of the Mobile Riverine Force (Task Force 117). (Naval History and Heritage Command)

By Matthew Headrick
HRNM Educator

In a journal article published in 1973, Lt. Colonel Philip M. Flammer, a professor of military history at Air University and former professor at the USAF Academy, defined the word “propaganda” by quoting the Nazi propagandist Joseph Goebbels, who said that propaganda “has nothing to do with truth…. What matters is that it achieves its purposes.” Flammer believed that, during the Vietnam War, the North Vietnamese embraced some of the same methodologies put forth previously by the Nazis, formatting it to fit the Communist doctrine. However, the mission was not just to proselytize. Propaganda was a way of spreading fear while giving direct orders, such as to protect against an “other.” The fact is, propaganda was used on both sides with the same goals: to promote an ideal and to protect that ideal through the use of violence.   

Vietnamese propaganda came in many different forms. Propaganda was not just comprised of singular messages about the U.S. “invading army.” Nor could it only be found in pamphlets full of anti-American literature. The Viet Cong often used symbols as propaganda. For example, the lotus flower represented a sort of logic or philosophy about the human condition. Then there was the visually striking Communist iconography: a giant billboard of Ho Chi Minh’s face. Artwork portrayed soldiers fighting on the front lines, emerging victoriously against the opponent.

(Courtesy Dogma Collection via CNN)

For the most part, the state controlled all aspects of the media. This is evident in images such as the one below which reads, “We stand ready to fight by our Vietnamese friends!” It infers that Communists around the world are joined together in fighting the enemy. Not only did these messages incentivize war against the U.S., but they were also meant to direct people's attention towards a particular ideology, a selling point on Communism.

(Pritzker Military Museum & Library)

The Naval History and Heritage Command (NHHC) has in its possession numerous propaganda pieces. These artifacts help museum professionals convey a more extensive narrative about the role propaganda played in the Vietnam War. For example, housed at NHHC’s artifact storage facility are the leaflets and banner taken from this Viet Cong propaganda float. The float was captured by PBRs of River Section 523 in the Co Chien River on September 1, 1967. The South Vietnamese had their way of getting messages downriver as well, such as utilizing banana stalks. The U.S. would sometimes resort to floating toy sailboats with messages. 

(Naval History and Heritage Command)

Located in the museum’s Intelligence part of the Vietnam gallery is another piece of North Vietnamese propaganda in the form of a banner which translates to: “We are ready to defeat any night ambush from the RVN stubborn servants.”

(Naval History and Heritage Command)

Also on display at the museum is a two-sided propaganda sign on a piece of wood. On the front, it translates as, “Long live the South Vietnam people’s liberation front, the only and true representative of the people of the south.” On the back side, it reads, “In light of the victory spirit, all young men and women, hold and aim guns straight to the enemies, American puppets, to exterminate them.” 

Front of sign (Naval History and Heritage Command)

Reverse side (Naval History and Heritage Command)

During the Vietnam War, both the U.S. and Viet Cong commonly used radio, posters, signs, symbols, and literature to share their respective messages about the enemy. Today, propaganda is used to influence how we reflect and remember the past, particularly during times of war. Now more than ever, historians are paying close attention to the power of propaganda. Through the study of these types of artifacts, we are better equipped to put conflicts, such as the Vietnam War, into context. Understanding the use of propaganda allows us to gain perspective on more than just the “what,” but the “why” as well. 

From Saigon with Love

This wedding dress was sewn by Beverly O'Shea, from fine silk bought by her husband Mike in Saigon before their stateside wedding. (M.C. Farrington)

By Alicia Pullen
HRNM Educator

The newly opened exhibit at the Hampton Roads Naval Museum (HRNM) titled “The Ten Thousand-Day War at Sea,” houses a display case of a simple, yet elegant wedding dress. Like many of the artifacts, oral histories, pictures, and captions within the exhibit, each demonstrates the U.S. Navy’s involvement in the Vietnam War while sharing their own story. The wedding dress, in particular, reveals a story about love that was challenged by the American war effort in Vietnam. Moreover, the history of this artifact is unknown to the public and deserves its place as a compelling narrative in understanding the lives and sacrifices of those who served in Vietnam. 

In 1963, Mike and Beverly O’Shea met at the Naval Station Newport Rhode Island Hospital. Beverly was a corpsman nurse and treated Mike who had been sent to intensive care. Mike’s situation was precarious as he suffered from bleeding ulcers and was in a coma for quite some time. When Mike recovered, he was released back to duty. Following Mike’s recovery at the hospital, the two began dating. Many of their dates were in the morgue, as Mike worked at the Naval laboratory in pathology. During that same year, Mike proposed to Beverly. Prior to that time, neither of them had confessed their love for one another, which made the moment even more of a surprise. About half a year later, Beverly accepted Mike’s proposal.

A close up photograph shows the intricate weave of the silk fabric Mike O'Shea bought while serving as a Navy Corpsman in Saigon. (M.C. Farrington)

During their engagement, Mike transitioned to the reserves and went to Vietnam, while Beverly remained on active duty back in Rhode Island. Mike was stationed at the Naval Station Hospital in Saigon working in the lab. He was in Vietnam from 1964-1965, witnessing the changing scene as the American involvement increased. The hospital in Saigon was very busy with many patients treated for different conditions, so Mike was kept occupied. For instance in March 1965, Mike and his friend were driving back from the exchange, where military personnel could purchase personal items, when they witnessed a Viet Cong car bombing near the U.S. Embassy. Mike immediately jumped out of his cab and ran to help people. Mike recalled seeing many people run out of the embassy covered in glass and seeing chaos on the streets of Saigon. Although they had been very close to the site, Mike and his friend were fortunate not to have been wounded in the explosion. 

In preparation for their wedding, Mike purchased silk and lace fabric in Saigon and mailed the items to Beverly so she could sew her own wedding dress. This type of fabric was found in Saigon due to the French colonial rule that had recently ended in 1954. Beverly recalled being excited when she received the fabric but had never sewn before. This was a task she was eager to take on, and it took Beverly about nine months to sew the dress and a wedding veil. Once Mike’s enlistment ended, he returned to the United States to begin college and start a life with Beverly.

A wedding portrait of Beverly O'Shea in the silk dress made from fabric her groom Mike brought back from Saigon.(Courtesy of Beverly O'Shea)

The wedding took place in Marshall, Michigan, Beverly’s hometown, on August 28, 1965. The ceremony was small with mostly family in attendance, and the wedding reception took place in a barn with food and cake. For Mike and Beverly, their wedding day was memorable as they shared it with friends and family. A year later, Mike and Beverly had their first child. They now have four children, two daughters and two sons, as well as many grandchildren. Looking back, Beverly remembers these years in the Navy as a special and romantic time. The O'Sheas donated Beverly’s wedding dress to the Hampton Roads Naval Museum for visitors to learn about its connection to the Vietnam War.

On opening night for the exhibit, The Ten Thousand-Day War at Sea, in October 2019, HRNM Volunteer Coordinator Darcy Sink talks with Mike and Beverly O'Shea after they found Beverly's wedding dress on display near the exhibit's entrance.  (M.C. Farrington)

Necessity was the Mother of Lethality (Part 3): Handmade Viet Cong Carbine

This slide and slam-action carbine, captured from the Viet Cong during the Vietnam War, is from the collections of the Naval History and Heritage Command (NHHC) and is featured in the Hampton Roads Naval Museum's exhibit, The 10,000 Day War at Sea, the U.S. Navy in Vietnam, 1950-1975 .  (M.C. Farrington)

By M.C. Farrington
HRNM Historian
&  Zachary Smyers
HRNM Educator

For this installment of our series on some of the rather unique Viet Cong weapons featured in our current exhibit, The Ten Thousand-Day War at Sea, we were not precisely sure what to call this weapon, but we decided that the safest bet is to stick with "Viet Cong Carbine." 

Viet Cong Carbine, left side. (M.C. Farrington)

Although one might be tempted to call it a rifle because of its appearance, most small arms of its type lacked rifled barrels.  It is of a very simple design, and it definitely looks like it uses slam fire action (based on the spring-loaded bolt configuration), during which a round is fired as soon as it is inserted into the chamber.  

Three-quarter view, close up of right-hand side showing exposed spring-loaded bolt. (M.C. Farrington)

Before North Vietnamese weapons shipments down the Ho Chi Minh Trail overwhelmed American and South Vietnamese interdiction efforts during the latter part of the 1960s, very few factory-made small arms were in the hands of front-line National Liberation Front fighters, known to their enemies as the Viet Cong. 

The trigger and guard looks as though it might have been salvaged from another weapon.  Note the NHHC accession number affixed to the inside of the guard.  (M.C. Farrington)

Left literally to their own devices during the early years of their struggle with American and Republic of Vietnam forces, Communist cadres in South Vietnam fashioned firearms from old pipes, automotive and even bicycle parts in underground workshops, of which many were literally underground.  Some were patterned after weapons captured from the Japanese when they occupied French Indochina during World War II.  Many were imitations of those captured from the French during their unsuccessful attempt to reestablish their colonies in Indochina after the war.  They also replicated German weapons captured by the Soviets during the war that were given to the Viet Cong's predecessors, the Viet Minh, to aid in their fight against the French.  An assortment of other Soviet, Chinese, and even American designs rounded out the Viet Cong insurgents' small arms stocks by the mid-1960s, but it would be unfair to characterize their efforts as merely imitative.  The guerrilla gunsmiths operating in the tunnels and swamps of South Vietnam were more than capable of creating their own designs, and the weapon featured here just might be one of them. 

The trigger and guard, as seen from below.  (M.C. Farrington)

Although it seems that a pin or bolt once held it there, by the time of the carbine's capture the upper receiver component, if you will, was attached to the stock assembly with a wire, not winning it any longevity contests.

A piece of wire holds the rear of the receiver to the carbine's stock assembly.  (M.C. Farrington)

The magazine well is not too large, and the actual cartridge that this weapon may have fired is vague.  It could have been anything from one of the small pistol calibers like the Soviet Tokarev, which is 7.62x25mm, or possibly 7.62x39 (which is what the AK-47 fired).  As with most firearms of this type, it is safe to say the weapon was designed around whatever ammunition its makers had the most of.  The capacity of the magazine is also hard to say, though it could be compatible with the 10-round 7.62x54mm Soviet World War II-era SVT-40 magazine.

Ahead of the magazine well as seen from under the carbine, the accession number appears to have originally been added shortly after its incorporation into the NHHC small arms collection. (M.C. Farrington)

All that is clear about this weapon is that it was taken off the battlefield just as the Vietnam War was really heating up, in part due to the dramatic surge and variety of weapons, the majority of them from Chinese factories, made available to the Viet Cong by the relentless logistical effort mounted by the North Vietnamese through the Ho Chi Minh Trail.  After the Viet Cong was largely decimated during the 1968 Tet Offensive, soldiers of the People's Army of Vietnam filtered into the south via the trail to replace them, many of them carrying the North Vietnamese K-50M and the Chinese Type 56, examples of which are also featured in the exhibit.  

Necessity was the Mother of Lethality (Part 2): Scrap Wood & Metal Becomes Pistol

Cut off from a reliable source of manufactured goods early in the war thanks in part to U.S. and Republic of Vietnam Navy vigilance, National Liberation Front (also known as Viet Cong) fighters operating in South Vietnam carried primitive firearms such as this single-shot smoothbore pistol, which used a nail as a safety.  It is one of the more unusual weapons featured in the Hampton Roads Naval Museum's exhibit, The 10,000 Day War at Sea, the U.S. Navy in Vietnam, 1950-1975 .  (Naval History and Heritage Command (NHHC) collection/ Photograph by M.C. Farrington)

By Thomas Grubbs
Contributing Writer

The 9mm round is the AK47 of the ammunition world. Widely available, it is fired from literally hundreds of firearms, both pistols and submachine guns. It can be found in every armory and most every gun store or arms bazaar on earth. Their ubiquity has made it the go-to caliber for homemade weaponry. The Viet Cong, denied access to traditional sources of weaponry such as foreign imports or in territory factories, naturally turned to manufacturing their own firearms, such as the pistol seen above.

Like the RC Cola grenade, this homemade handgun is a product of necessity. Small arms, like all other types of military materiel, would have to be transported over the difficult land route known as the Ho Chi Minh Trail or by sampan along the coast. It would also have to compete for scarce space against other equally important war materiel such as medical supplies or spare parts. Both routes were exposed to American air and sea power, particularly units supporting Operation Market Time, which took a steady toll on supplies traveling down them. Therefore, manufacturing weapons on site in South Vietnam was a much safer and more convenient alternative.

Unfortunately, there were no arms factories supplying Viet Cong forces in South Vietnam. Making weaponry in hidden workshops allowed the Viet Cong to have a source of supply of small arms to be close to the, for lack of a better term, front line yet protected from attack. The pistol’s crude construction from commonly available materials belies its effectiveness: at close range it would be just as effective in killing as a pistol constructed in a factory. In this case, necessity is the mother of invention.

This slightly different view shows a serial number painted onto the grip. (NHHC collection/ Photograph by M.C. Farrington)

Editor's Note: Thomas Grubbs earned a master's degree in military history from Southern New Hampshire University and is currently a park ranger interpreter at Vicksburg National Military Park, Mississippi. His research interest is in the history of the dreadnought battleship. 

This and every HRNM blog post by a contributing writer reflects the opinions of the writer and should not be construed as representing the official policies or opinions of the Hampton Roads Naval Museum, the Naval History and Heritage Command, Department of the Navy, or the United States Government.

Necessity was the Mother of Lethality (Part 1): RC Can Becomes VC Grenade

From its origins in Columbus, Georgia, in 1934, RC Cola became one of the most popular drinks in America during the Second World War, although most GIs couldn't necessarily lay their hands on one as they fought their way across the globe.  By the time of the Vietnam War a generation later, military logistics has improved to such a point that canned soft drinks and beer provided a welcome reminder of home to those deployed in-country.  All the cans the service members discarded after their use, however, presented an opportunity to those seeking to send the GIs home, one way or another.  Although RC was the first company to distribute sodas in aluminum cans, this soldered-seam steel soda can could be pried open, packed with powder and shrapnel, and re-soldered shut, while the tab top made a convenient place to insert a rudimentary fuse system.  This example from the collections of the Naval History and Heritage Command (NHHC) is featured in the Hampton Roads Naval Museum's exhibit, The 10,000 Day War at Sea, the U.S. Navy in Vietnam, 1950-1975 .  (M.C. Farrington)

By Thomas Grubbs
Contributing Writer


Modern war requires immense amounts of resources to wage, from small arms ammunition to capital warships. Like in so many other areas, factories and assembly lines meet these requirements. Most nations possess the capability to manufacture their own consumables, ranging from boots and uniforms to small arms ammunition and field rations. For more complex items such as vehicles, aircraft or small arms, nations either manufacture their own or purchase them for hard currency or other valuables such as oil or the cancellation of debts from foreign nations that possess that capability. A terrorist or insurgent group such as the Viet Cong, however, lacks this advantage. Few nations wish to have headlines reading that they are providing war material to groups operating outside of commonly accepted guidelines on armed conflict splashed all over the news. Condemnation and sanctions are sure to follow. Therefore, in order to meet their needs for war material, such a group must turn to other methods of acquisition. This acquisition in turn takes one of three forms: repurposing of other materials, homemade weaponry or the copying of existing weaponry.

The other side of the RC hand grenade showing the safety pin and lever hanging over the solder seam. (NHHC collection/ M.C. Farrington)

Example 1. The Royal Crown Cola grenade:

One of the hallmarks of contemporary American culture is its intensive focus on materialism and the production of consumer goods from high-end electronics to soda pop. The American service member, no matter where in the world he or she may be, demands access to at least some of the comforts of home. A second hallmark of this culture is the enormous amount of trash that is produced in the process. It is doubtful that a guard would be posted on the base trash heap, thus presenting an opportunity to a canny foe to acquire some of the raw materials of weapons manufacture. Inevitably, the intersection of human ingenuity, the exigencies of war, the desire for comfort goods and easy access to massive amounts of trash would conspire to create one of the infantry’s favorite weapons: the hand grenade.

Viet Cong improvised hand grenade, reverse side. (NHHC Collection/ M.C. Farrington)

Hand grenades are popular amongst the infantry for three reasons: they are easy to use, easy to carry and they are effective weapons in a wide array of tactical situations. Most grenades, for obvious reasons, are mass-produced in factories to standardized designs and capabilities. The Viet Cong, being an insurgent group operating deep in hostile territory, was cut off from the typical supply lines enjoyed by regular soldiers. Making use of what they had and what they could find, Viet Cong weaponsmiths manufactured hand grenades, such as the RC Cola hand grenade displayed in the HRNM's exhibit on the U.S. Navy in the Vietnam War, out of the castoffs of their American adversaries. While of dubious reliability, there can be no doubt that this weapon and others like it would be just as effective as the factory-produced models utilized by their American adversaries. 

Editor's Note: Thomas Grubbs earned a master's degree in military history from Southern New Hampshire University and is currently a park ranger interpreter at Vicksburg National Military Park. His research interest is in the history of the dreadnought battleship. 

The "Zoo" for Humans during the Vietnam War

ABOVE: In the Ngã Tư Sở section of Hanoi, the Democratic Republic of Vietnam's Cự Lộc facility (outlined in red) the northernmost section of which (in upper-middle surrounding rectangular pool) held American prisoners during the Vietnam War, was known to those detained there as the "Zoo." BELOW: The facility was also known to U.S. intelligence analysts, who had gathered enough information to have a very detailed model made of it.  The model is currently featured as a part of the Hampton Roads Naval Museum's exhibit, The 10,000 Day War at Sea, the U.S. Navy in Vietnam, 1950-1975 .  ("Tomlat" via Flickr/ M.C. Farrington)

By Matthew Headrick
Hampton Roads Naval Museum Educator

Located in the heart of the Hampton Roads Naval Museum’s new Vietnam exhibit is a model of a North Vietnamese prison that was given the nickname the “Zoo” by the pilots who were detained there. The windows were bricked. Rooms were padlocked, and there was just enough space for guards and livestock to look inside. We know the model was created by U.S. intelligence analysts, but there are still many questions regarding why the model was built.  

Defense Intelligence Agency personnel helped coordinate production of information relating to prisoner of war camps, including overhead reconnaissance, which contributed to the making of this model of Sơn Tây Prison, which was used in planning Operation Kingpin (its second phase was called Operation Ivory Coast) in 1970. (Defense Intelligence Agency)  

One of the more obvious answers is that it might have served the same purpose as a similar model of Sơn Tây camp, which was used to plan a rescue in 1970 that was ultimately unsuccessful. In 1970, the Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA) received information that 61 Americans were being held there. The Special Forces night extraction by helicopter was code-named Operation Kingpin. Two days before the Special Forces mission was to kick off, word was received that the prisoners had been moved. The next day, the Joint Chiefs of Staff Chairman Adm. Thomas Moorer received new intel that there was still a 50/50 chance the POWs had not been relocated. So, on November 21, 1970 the mission launched, and after exchanging small arms fire with the enemy, U.S. forces discovered that the original intel they received was correct. The prisoners were gone.

Shortly after the war, ex-POW Mike McGrath annotated this detailed map of Hanoi to show the location of prisons. He did it so he would not forget where the camps were. Out of the estimated 13 prisons and camps used to detain captured personnel during the war, only Cự Lộc (the Zoo), Hỏa Lò (the Hanoi Hilton), the Plantation (used as a model showpiece for foreign visitors and the press), and Alcatraz (where the most difficult-to-control prisoners were held) were close to central Hanoi. (Wikimedia Commons)

What is certain is that the Zoo itself had some very unique features and a very dark history. From September of 1965 through 1972, the Zoo, located near the village of Cự Lộc in North Vietnam, periodically operated as a POW camp. However, its purpose as a prison camp was multi-functional. It was not until September of 1971 that the camp was used as a long-term holding facility for prisoners of war. Its underlining purpose in 1972 was that of a “showplace,” which is why it is so often compared to the “Plantation Camp,” located in Northeast Hanoi. 

North Vietnamese propagandists, via the Eastern bloc press, presented an idealized picture of the Americans in their custody.  This picture was likely taken either at the Plantation or the Zoo camps, within easy reach of Hanoi-based correspondents from Communist and nonaligned nations. (Manhhai via Flickr)  

The Zoo served a similar purpose as the Plantation Camp, thus it has been regarded as that camp's primary replacement. The term “showplace” is an appropriate description of the camp's use. One might compare the prison to something of a staging prop. There were films made there capturing images of prisoners engaged in Christmas activities and even playing sports such as basketball. By the end of 1970, all captives held at the Zoo were transferred to Hỏa Lò. Only two men were held there in 1971. After their short stay at the Zoo, they were transferred to the “Rockpile” POW camp, located just south of Hanoi.

Another North Vietnamese propaganda photograph provided to Western media through Communist intermediaries shows Air Force Maj. David Hatcher and Navy Lt. David Rehmann beholding food "fit for a Vietnamese officer."  (Manhhai via Flickr)

Like some other camps, such as “Briarpatch,” located 33 miles northwest of Hanoi, the Zoo was established to address overcrowding in other prisons, only to later experience overflow itself.  Both the Zoo and Briarpatch opened in the summer of 1965 because Hỏa Lò was overflowing. The Zoo was a deserted French site that had once housed a movie studio and is believed to have been an art colony. 

This is the main (and oldest) part of the compound featuring the pool (which, of course, was not used for recreational swimming during the time Americans were incarcerated there) and the auditorium.  If you look closely, the model makers included air raid shelter entrances, which look like manholes scattered throughout the compound. (M.C. Farrington)   

By February 1966, over 50 captives were being held there. In 1967, the Zoo held approximately 120 prisoners of war. In that same year, it too started to overflow with prisoners of war. So, in October, a section was added known as the “Annex.” As the POW camp grew in size and numbers, so did its reputation as being primitive and brutal.  

The southernmost section of the Zoo depicted in the immediate foreground of the model, furthest away from the main compound, probably housed guards and other personnel of the People's Army of Vietnam (note the larger number of air raid shelter entrances than in the section used for holding prisoners), while the middle compound beyond the gate (sandwiched between the foreground compound and the older main compound) was most likely the "Annex," added in order to house burgeoning numbers of American prisoners.  It was from here that two of them escaped on May 10, 1969.  Air Force captains Edwin L. Atterberry and John A. Dramesi were recaptured less than a day later.  Atterberry subsequently paid the ultimate price for this act of defiance, dying at the hands of his captors, while Dramesi barely survived the torture and six months in irons that followed his recapture.  (M.C. Farrington) 

Even though there were camps with more sophisticated techniques of torture, the Zoo was exceptional, with its own unique reputation for mistreatment and cruelty from when it first became operational, to the very end. Visually, the POW camp was quite menacing. The cells were old concrete buildings. The concrete floors served as prisoners' beds. One of the more infamous structures within the compound was an old movie theater turned dark torture chamber known as the “auditorium.” Former prisoners have described it as being nothing but a pitch-black room overwhelmed with rats and smelling of human feces. The North Vietnamese would go on to build a separate cell, strictly dedicated to interrogation and torture.

It is all but certain that this photograph taken in 1967 by Lee Lockwood shows Air Force 1st Lt. Joseph Crecca feeding turkeys near the edge of the pool at the center of the main prisoner compound at the Zoo.  However, as was the case with every other image the North Vietnamese authorities allowed the world to see, looks could be deceiving.  (Manhhai via Flickr)    

The yard was inhabited by farm animals and even included an old swimming pool that was used to house fish. The treatment men received there was as Spartan as the cement walls that surrounded them. POWs were hardly allowed to bathe. Most of the time, they were handed a bucket of water to perform any hygienic routines. Food was very scarce. It was during the years 1967 through 1968 that the camp was recognized by the U.S. Military as more of a torture facility than just a holding camp for prisoners. Unlike other camps, it did not matter how long a prisoner had been there. Everyone was susceptible to this type of harsh treatment. Some of the last POWs to leave Vietnam were assembled at the Zoo.

One of the few successful acts of defiance staged by the American prisoners (which wasn't rewarded with torture) at the Zoo happened on March 29, 1973, almost at the time of their final release. Resisting the stage management of their captors, who had laid out implausible accommodations for the international news media, expecting the Americans to play along, they instead turned their backs to the cameras. Air Force Major William Ellender explained to NBC News reporter Liz Trotta. “We object to having our pictures taken because this isn’t the way we live.” He tried to say more," said Trotta, "but the guards stopped him."  Despite their unwillingness to comply with their captors until the very end, they arrived safely at Clark Air Force Base, Republic of the Philippines, shortly afterward. (Manhhai via Flickr)

The Paris Peace Accords were signed on January 27, 1973, which officially ended the war in Vietnam. It was on February 12th of that year when the first American POW was released. It took approximately a year for President Richard Nixon to announce the return of all POWs from Vietnam. One of the most striking artifacts in our gallery is the model of the Zoo.  It is one of many visuals on display at our museum that represents the hardships and struggles faced by POWs in the Vietnam War.

The approximately six foot-long model of the Zoo, known formally as the Cự Lộc (and the Ngã Tư Sở) facility, seen from its "north" corner, is displayed at the Hampton Roads Naval Museum near a life-size diorama showing conditions inside a North Vietnamese prisoner of war camp. (M.C. Farrington)  

On an Ejection Seat and a Prayer

In this incredible photo sequence (above and below) taken by Lieutenant Junior Grade Al Zink of Light Photographic Squadron 63, Lieutenant Jack Terhune of the Fighter Squadron 154 "Black Knights" ejects from his Vought F-8D Crusader (Bureau Number 147899) over the Gulf of Tonkin on October 14, 1965, during the squadron's first combat deployment to Vietnam aboard USS Coral Sea (CVA 43). Terhune, whose plane was hit by ground fire during a mission, was subsequently rescued safely.  Note that the Crusader's canopy cleared the aircraft before Terhune, still strapped into his Martin-Baker ejection seat, emerged.  A pilot or bombadier/navigator ejecting in a similar ejection seat from an A-6 Intruder, however, would have to smash through the aircraft's canopy on the way out. (Naval History and Heritage Command image) 

The drogue deploys the main chutes on Lt Terhune's ejection seat, carrying him safely away from his stricken Crusader. (Naval History and Heritage Command image) 

By Zachary Smyers
HRNM Educator

The ejection seat currently on display in the air section of the Hampton Roads Naval Museum's new Vietnam War exhibit is from an A-6 Intruder.

This picture of the cockpit layout on this decommissioned KA-6 aerial refueling variant of the Intruder shows the staggered seating positions between the pilot ( the seat port side away from camera) and the bombardier/navigator to starboard (the seat nearest the camera) slightly behind the pilot. (Bill Abbott via Flickr)

More specifically, the seat was used by the BN (Bombardier/Navigator) of the A-6 who sat to the right of the pilot. The A-6 was an all-weather attack aircraft and saw extensive service during the Vietnam War.

The Martin-Baker GRU-7 ejection seat in the Hampton Roads Naval Museum gallery. (M.C. Farrington)

The seat was manufactured by the Martin-Baker company, and is designated the GRU-7. The seat is equipped with a rocket motor, which propels the seat out of the aircraft. The motor is set off by a lanyard, which is activated during the launch sequence. On the back of the seat are spikes, which are designed to go through the canopy. Normal ejection for an A-6 flight crew is to go directly through the canopy.

Note the single pull ring above the headrest. (M.C. Farrington)

The ejection procedure is a seven-step process. The pulling of the face curtain or the lower ejection handle (located between the aviator’s legs) fires the cartridge in the ejection gun, which begins the process. Then the drogue gun fires a half second after the initial ejection, which deploys the drogue parachute (the parachute that is actually attached to the seat). 

The ejection sequence on an EA-6B Prowler electronic warfare aircraft, which is based upon the same airframe as the Intruder. 

The drogue parachute then fully deploys. The drogue parachute stabilizes and begins to slow down the ejection seat. The aviator in the seat receives oxygen from the oxygen bottle that is attached to the seat. Then between an altitude of 14,500 feet and 11, 500 feet, the main parachute deploys. Finally, the time-release mechanism releases the upper restraint, lower restraint, the personnel parachute, and the leg restraint lines. The shock from the opening of the personnel parachute in turn causes the ejection seat to finally drop away.

Note the lower pull ring on the seat, as well as the "Survival Kit, Oxygen, Aircraft Seat" installed behind it. (M.C. Farrington)

The Martin-Baker ejection seat was introduced in the mid 1960’s and has been used in a variety of aircraft. US Navy aircraft that utilized the Martin-Baker seat include the F-9 Cougar, A-6 Intruder, F-4 Phantom, F-8 Crusader, the EA-6B Prowler, and the F-14 Tomcat. To date, the Martin-Baker ejection seat design has saved over 2,000 lives.  

Editor's Note: The outstanding record of of the Martin-Baker seats aboard the long-serving Grumman Intruders and Prowlers is undisputed, but a faulty retaining latch on one of the seats caused one of the most bizarre incidents of its kind in naval aviation history when a bombardier-navigator flying from USS Abraham Lincoln (CVN 72) was partially ejected from his KA-6.  Read about it here. 

Forty Years Ago: Clive Cussler's Contentious Contribution

The image of the ill-fated sloop-of-war USS Cumberland looms large in the logo and front window of the Hampton Roads Naval Museum in downtown Norfolk, Virginia.  Without (M.C. Farrington)

By M.C. Farrington
HRNM Historian
 
Those familiar with the Hampton Roads Naval Museum (HRNM) know of the special status conferred upon the museum with regards to two famous local shipwrecks, USS Cumberland and CSS Florida–the former being the first vessel sunk by an ironclad warship, CSS Virginia, during the Battle of Hampton Roads in March 1862, and the latter being a captured Confederate commerce raider brought to Hampton Roads in November 1864 after her capture in Brazil by USS Wachusett the month before. 

A permanent exhibit devoted to the Confederate raider Florida has been a part of the museum's Civil War gallery since 2011. (M.C. Farrington)

HRNM is the only museum in the world authorized by the United States Government to hold artifacts recovered from both vessels.  Both wrecks rested close to one another on the bottom of the James River not far from Newport News Shipbuilding, which began operations over two decades after the Civil War.  There the two wrecks rested in obscurity for over a century.

That is, until one of the most famous authors in the world, Clive Cussler, set out to find them. 

Novelist and ocean adventurer Clive Cussler (9News Australia)

Cussler, the best-selling adventure novel writer who died last Monday in Arizona at the age of 88, used the proceeds from his first commercially successful book Raise the Titanic (1976) to found an organization dedicated to undertaking the types of undersea adventures he wrote about in his novels. Fittingly, the name for that organization, the National Underwater and Marine Agency (NUMA), began a fictional government organization in his novels.

Cussler and NUMA set out boldly across the Atlantic in 1977 in a quest to find the wreck of John Paul Jones' flagship Bonhomme Richard, the first in a long list of history's lost shipwrecks that they hoped to discover.  According to Cussler's obituary in The New York Times, NUMA ultimately discovered some 60 wrecks over the following decades and that "[v]aluable artifacts raised by his expeditions were given to museums or governments." Considering that the Bonhomme Richard expedition ended in failure (the ship wasn't found until 2018), perhaps Cussler's first experience with artifact giving occurred in Hampton Roads.  But what happened in 1980 when the swashbuckling exploits of Cussler's official-sounding yet private organization brought it to Hampton Roads and attracted the attention of the real by-the-book feds?  Namely, those at the Hampton Roads Naval Museum, which had opened less than a year before? 

Accounts differ.

Patricia Gleeson, the Hampton Roads Naval Museum's first registrar, and Mike Curtin, the museum's first director, stand in front of the historic Pennsylvania House, which was built for the 1907 Jamestown Exposition, after the museum's opening there in 1979.  It moved to join Nauticus, the National Maritime Center, in 1994. (Hampton Roads Naval Museum file)

Retired Vice Admiral Bernard "Beetle" Forbes, who was tasked by the Navy to bring the museum into operation, and founding civilian Director Mike Curtin had practically just begun amassing artifacts from what was then the Naval Historical Center for the museum's collection when they caught wind of what was in the offing. 

NUMA divers had been working on what was left of the remains of CSS Virginia in the shallow waters off Craney Island at the mouth of the Elizabeth River when they decided to cross the roadstead and look for the wrecks of Cumberland and Florida.

"The Rebel Steamer 'Merrimac" running down the frigate 'Cumberland' off Newport News," an illustration of the sloop-of-war's demise after the emergence of the Confederate ironclad in Hampton Roads on March 8, 1862. (Harper's Weekly/ Hampton Roads Naval Museum file)

Long-time HRNM curator Joe Judge wrote an account of the affair in the fortieth anniversary edition of our journal, The Daybook, which was published last year:

The museum’s early years coincided with important developments in the region’s underwater historic sites. In 1980, Clive Cussler, popular novelist best known for his book, Raise the Titanic, pursued a long-standing interest in the two Civil War ships whose remains lie in the James River: USS Cumberland and CSS Florida. Cussler contracted with a local archaeological firm, who in turn called on the knowledge of local watermen to help locate the ships. This knowledge, combined with a remote sensing survey, led archaeologists to the two wrecks. The recovery of numerous artifacts confirmed that these shipwrecks were most likely Cumberland and Florida.

The archaeology team transferred the artifacts to the Virginia Historic Landmarks Commission, where they quickly became a source of contention. The Navy asserted its rights to them with a frosty note from the JAG corps that stated “these vessels and related artifacts are considered the property of the United States … it is therefore requested that these artifacts be transferred to the Hampton Roads Naval Museum.” In November 1983, HRNM received the artifacts, which became a cornerstone of the collection. Director Mike Curtin summed up the swirling debate about who owned the artifacts to a newspaper reporter: “There’s a lot of ego involved.”      

"The sinking of the rebel war steamer Florida, near Fortress Monroe, Nov. 28...,"  an 1864 illustration from Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper. (Hampton Roads Naval Museum file)

For his part, Mr. Cussler was a bit blunter and less magnanimous in his recollection of the affair during their second expedition to Hampton Roads in July 1982, recorded for posterity on the NUMA website.

A display case in the Battle of Hampton Roads section of the museum's Civil War gallery displays artifacts recovered from the sloop-of-war Cumberland, including a caliper (HR83-066-011), a gun site cover (HR83-066-004), and a sabot for one of Cumberland's rifled gun rounds (HR83-066-016). (M.C. Farrington)

In any event its can be said that, despite differing opinions and some hurt feelings, the late, legendary author helped get the HRNM collection off the ground, whether he wanted to or not.

Artifacts from the Confederate screw steamer Florida, from shoes to medicine bottles to Blakely rifle shells, line the exhibit devoted to the ship within the Hampton Roads Naval Museum's Civil War gallery. (M.C. Farrington)

When it comes to the wrecks of the Cumberland and Florida, the Hampton Roads Naval Museum's acquisition of their artifacts was obviously not the kind of ending Clive Cussler would have penned for one of his adventure stories.  Yet in reality, for nearly four decades the public has been able to see the choicest artifacts from both vessels in HRNM's Civil War Gallery in downtown Norfolk, with some of the larger pieces of the wrecks available for view by appointment at the museum's annex near its original home on Naval Station Norfolk.  

The bell of the sloop-of-war Cumberland in the Hampton Roads Naval Museum's Civil War gallery. It was found in 1981 by Underwater Archaeological Joint Ventures of Yorktown, Virginia, working under contract for NUMA. (HR83-066-22/ M.C. Farrington)

Not all of the artifacts from the Cumberland and Florida were accessioned into the HRNM collection from Clive Cussler and affiliated colleagues such as Dr. John Broadwater, then of the Virginia Historic Landmark Commission's Research Center for Archaeology. Many were confiscated later by the U.S. Department of Justice and Naval Investigative Service from looters who dredged the shipwreck sites during the late-1980s, possibly after learning of their existence and location from news stories about their discovery. That story will have to wait until another time.

Until then, suffice to say that all's well that ends well.