The Maison Centrale sign sits above the front gate of Hanoi’s legendary Prison, which we know as “The Hanoi Hilton.”
The French creation remains are a testament to Vietnamese tenacity and resilience.
What do you do during the morning of Christmas Eve when staying in the vibrant city of Hanoi, Vietnam?
You visit the site of one of the most notorious prisons built in Asia (of course.)
The name on the front of the building is Maison Centrale, which translates as Central House, a distinction familiar to French Prisons and a particular underlying dark sense of humor.
The actual name of the prison is Hoa Lo Prison, and it is now a museum open to visitors.
(Hoa Lo translates as fiery furnace or hell hole.)
Ho Lo Prison “hosted” American Pilots from 1964 until 1973, including the late Senator John McCain, during the conflict the Vietnamese call “the American War.”
Most North Americans are more familiar with the facility’s monikers, the “Hanoi Hilton” and “The Heartbreak Hotel.”
(Today, there is, in fact, a Hanoi Hilton Garden Inn located about one mile from the notorious prison site.)
The Vietnamese government largely demolished the Prison, built in Hanoi’s French Quarter, in the 1990s, except the gatehouse, original men’s and women’s (and children’s) quarters, dungeons, death row, and guillotine execution rooms.
(The developers used the prime real estate to erect two high-rise condominiums and commercial buildings.)
What’s left of the prison building remains intimidating.
(Ho Lo Prison was built in 1886 to strict specifications with imported steel, local brick, and stone prepared to French standards by a French Construction company and approximately 200,000 (French taxpayers) Francs.
(The expenditure would be the equivalent of at least 6 Million Euros in today’s currency.)
The French succeeded in creating the most formidable Prison in Asia to house political prisoners. The museum primarily focuses on the Vietnamese prisoners’ struggles for survival in horrid conditions where the prisoners suffered from malnutrition, overcrowding, a disgusting, unhygienic environment, insect bites, cold winters, and suffocating heat in the summer.
Ironically, on Christmas Eve of 1951, sixteen political prisoners sentenced to death by guillotine made an attempted escape through the prison’s sewer system.
Their timing was unfortunate as a patrol of guards witnessed their courageous act as the prisoners emerged onto the streets, and only five escaped (with their lives) to join the resistance.
A guillotine is displayed prominently in a space adjacent to tiny cells that held death row inmates.
The French used the device to execute dozens of Vietnamese political prisoners in Hanoi publicly.
The executioners could break down and reassemble the guillotine easily for transport.
Famous and influential prisoners were transported to their home villages for execution by guillotine as part of a strategy to terrorize and control the Vietnamese citizenry.
(The French government forces transported thirteen soldiers captured during the Yen Bai Revolution (January 1930) to their home villages and executed the martyrs with the “mobile” guillotine.)
The museum space allocated to the American Prisoner of War highlights photos of the prominent officers captured.
It shows pictures of American prisoners decorating Christmas trees and playing basketball in the courtyard. Several images of Americans receiving medical treatment are also prominently displayed.
Many of the American POWs (especially the early arrivals at Hoa Lo Prison) report mental and physical abuse, torture, and filthy and uncomfortable living conditions.
The treatment of the prisoners improved as the war progressed, and the captives became valuable bargaining chips at “peace talks.”
Douglas Pete Peterson, an F4-Phantom II Pilot, was shot down and captured in Northern Vietnam in September 1966 and subsequently spent six years at “the Hanoi Hilton.”
Like Senator John McCain, Peterson entered politics (US House of Representatives for Florida’s 2nd District) after returning to the United States.
Congressman Peterson eventually returned to Vietnam when President Clinton appointed him the United States’ first post-war Ambassador to Vietnam in 1997.
The Prison as a museum may be a tribute to the Vietnamese citizenry’s indelible spirit.
Still, the other side of the coin is the long list of (confirmed) atrocities recorded by John McCain and other POWs.
The captured servicemen detailed brutal beatings, starvation, disease, and medical neglect at the hands of their Vietnamese prison wardens and guards.
The fact that men like McCain and Peterson forgave their captors and returned to Vietnam to act as a conduit between the two countries is a testament to the upside of humanity.
On this Christmas day, in a present-day world with its own “real” trials, we might look to those who forgive and march on for the general good of the human race.
It’s a rare quality, and it is worthy of emulation.
