Patrick Chauvel, a French photographer in Vietnam during the US War, returned to the country in 2013 when his documentary ‘Rapporteurs de Guerre’ (War Reporters) was screened locally and tried to answer some lingering questions: How did they work? How did they survive? Who were the photographers on the other side?

After numerous contacts, discussions and meetings with many photographers, he managed to track down Doan Cong Tinh, Chu Chi Thanh, Mai Nam, and Hua Kiem, four North Vietnamese photographers. Their words and their photos gave Patrick at least some answers. In 2014 he took their photos and exhibited them at the Visa Pour L’image Festival in Perpignan, France.

From April 14, as Vietnam celebrates 40 years since the end of the war, people in Hanoi have also had the chance to view the photos, some of which are being seen for the very first time, at L’Espace, 24 Trang Tien Street.

Secret weapon

Different to the scenes of death and destruction that are often captured by Western photographers, at this exhibition another angle of the war appears from the eyes and the lenses of others caught in the middle of the fire: North Vietnam’s photographers.

The photos show the smiles of young soldiers after the fierce battle for Quang Tri Ancient Citadel, the optimistic look of a small girl who has outlived the bombs and bullets, and a reconnaissance team slugging their through a mountainous area. The photos commonly show the iron will, courage and firm belief of Vietnamese soldiers and citizens.

‘Before taking any photographs we were reminded what we should pay attention to,’ Doan Cong Tinh, who was a photographer with the People’s Army newspaper, told the audience at the exhibition. ‘We were forbidden to take any photos that may trigger pessimism, such as tears, sadness, blank stares, or bloody scenes. Vietnam was much weaker than its enemy in terms of weapons. But we fought with a secret weapon: the spiritual power that comes from optimism, determination, and a willingness to die for the cause.’

Although Tinh’s photo of the young Vietnamese soldiers smiling in front of the Quang Tri Ancient Citadel is considered to have been set up, it was still selected for the exhibition. According to Patrick, this was done out of respect for and acknowledgement of Tinh’s work.

‘As a foreign photographer, and a war protester, I tried to show the fiercest angles of the war,’ Patrick said. ‘There is a difference between the subjects we aimed for when photographing, but both of us had to work in very harsh conditions, especially Tinh and his colleagues.’

Out from the darkness

For myriad reasons, not all photos could, of course, be shown to the public back then. The exhibition brings many of them out from the darkness, however, allowing the public to perhaps gain a more comprehensive perspective on the war and its reporters and photographers.

The Liberation Day (April 30, 1975). Photo: Hua Kiem

 

At a discussion on April 16, independent reporter and MC Dao Thanh Huyen introduced a lesser known photo by Chu Chi Thanh to the audience, with the details hidden, of the dead body of a US pilot next to his identification papers and two photos of his wife and young child.

‘I was at my girlfriend’s house when the B52s started bombing Hanoi,’ Thanh said. ‘When I arrived at Kham Thien Street in the morning I saw absolute carnage and many corpses. People were searching for bodies in the rubble. Then I went to Dinh Cong Street, as I was told that a B52 had been shot down. I saw the American pilot’s body. At that moment, I wondered why a pilot from a strange land far from Vietnam was lying dead in front of me. Who did he die for, I wondered?’

Thanh also revealed that on three occasions he was refused permission to show the photo in public because it was so poignant, which confirmed for him the humanitarian nature of the Vietnamese people, even towards the enemy.

The well known English photographer Donald McCullin has a similar photo of a North Vietnamese soldier dying next to his belongings. After taking the photo he tried to find the soldier’s relatives. His obsession with the war is depicted in his photo book ‘Sleeping with Ghosts’, first published in 1994.

Sharing a similar obsession, Tinh confessed that many times he woke up in the middle of night screaming, even ten years after the war was over.

Neutral observers

‘We were always close to our subjects,’ said Patrick. ‘We experienced the same fears and dangers. We are also victims of war.’

In the middle of the war, he realized that he could not just be a photographer, but had to stay neutral to show the truth. ‘In the 1970s, when I was in Vietnam, most people didn’t want to fight at all,’ he said. ‘They seemed to use their guns more for self defence.’

Although their photos were strictly censored and directed, Thanh and Tinh had a similar view as Patrick when taking a photograph. ‘Soldiers - no matter which side - are human beings when all is said and done,’ said Thanh, ‘For soldiers with guns, there are two sides. But for photographers, there is only the truth to pursue, to show a painful historical period of Vietnam to the world.’

These days there are more wars and much more technology readily available to everyone, making people wonder whether the term ‘war reporter’ is still relevant and how people can differentiate a photo taken by a passer-by and one taken by a war reporter. But, ‘their professional eye helps a photographer find and catch the key moment, while the amateur may miss it,’ said Tinh.

For Patrick, who experienced about 20 battles, the public needs independent sources of information and, on some dimension, amateurs complement the work of professional photographers. The big difference between the two is, of course, that professionals were in the heat of the war for long periods while the amateurs only briefly endured its horrors.

The war has ended, but the photos taken at the time rekindle a mix of feelings and conflicting views still. ‘Not everyone was satisfied with the result of the war,’ said Patrick. ‘We were used to judging other people without being in their position. But that is war, which destroys everything, even faith. We will wait for younger generations to form a more objective view about the war, rather than judging anything ourselves.’