US History from Afar

As I write this, it’s Victory in Europe Day (VE Day), which this year celebrates 80 years since the official end of World War II in Europe.

I’m not well-researched (or paid) enough to write in depth about how, after 80 years of relative world order, America’s stature on the world stage is shifting based on the decisions of the few. So I’ll just write what I know. What I know is that I am both grateful and troubled to be an American, and I’ve learned a lot about myself and my country by visiting places outside of the US that have a major place in American history.

In the last two years, I’ve visited the War Memorial of Korea in Seoul, South Korea; the Atomic Bomb Dome in Hiroshima, Japan; the War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam; and the Musée de la Reddition in Reims, France, the site of the German surrender of WWII.

Each of these places was humbling to visit, and each led to different reflections for this American.

Seoul

I learned more in one afternoon at The War Memorial of Korea than I did in all my high school and college history courses. The Korean War was pretty overlooked in my U.S. history lessons, and the museum connected a lot of historical dots for me.

One thing I never really grasped was the time window between the Korean War and WWII. The Korean war started only 5 years after WWII ended. FIVE years! Relearning this in my 30’s hit differently than when I was a teenager. Probably because 5 years is nothing as you get older, but it’s a lifetime as a teen. That 5-year gap explained a lot to me about why America got involved. WWII ended in 1945. Communism took over China in 1949. In 1950, the Korean War started. China was supporting North Korea and if they won, China (and Communism) would then be within 120 miles from Japan. At the time, it seemed unallowable to have China that close to Japan when we were just a few years post Japan’s defeat in WWII.

From the way it’s barely touched on in history class, the Korean War seemed like just a random war between the big one and the bad one. Visiting this museum made me see how America’s involvement were completely related to what the world had just witnessed half a decade before and what would happen a decade later in Vietnam.

The War Memorial of Korea in Seoul

Hiroshima

The Atomic Bomb Dome in Hiroshima is the shell of the only structure left standing after the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima in 1945. It is a haunting site that has been purposefully preserved as a symbol symbol for peace and the elimination of nuclear weapons. It’s surrounded by Peace Memorial Park and the Children's Peace Monument, with an installation of millions of paper cranes created by people around the world praying for world peace.

The Hiroshima City Council dedicated the Dome in the ‘60s, and their goal still rings true as a visitor 60 years later:

“Preserving the Dome in its entirety and passing it along to future generations is one of our duties to the more than 200,000 souls who perished in the atomic bombing, and to people all over the world who pray for peace.” - Hiroshima City Council, July 11, 1966 (source)

It felt disrespectful to take pictures, so here’s the UNESCO page if you’d like to see it.

As an American visiting the site of a nuclear bomb that our country chose to drop, I felt so much shame. The sadness was a full body experience. Then came even more complicated feelings as I reflected on the grace it takes to turn a reminder of such horror into a symbol of peace and into a rally cry to end nuclear weapons. It makes me realize that it’s important to take that extra step; don’t just remember, use the memory to work towards a better world.

Ho Chi Minh City

Going to Vietnam, I felt a bit self-conscious as an American given the history of the Vietnam War. That discomfort peaked at the War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Minh City.

The War Remnants Museum has a distinct point of view that is completely different to how Americans talk about Vietnam. The terminology alone is a stark contrast. One entire room is called “The World Supports Vietnam in Its Resistance to U.S. Aggression 1954–1975.” Another is called “Historical Truths,” and it’s definitely not the truth that we were taught. Their mission is to “systematically study, collect, conserve and display exhibits on war crimes and consequences inflicted on the Vietnamese people by foreign aggressive forces.”

Much of the exhibit consists of historical photographs, and room-by-room you’re shown photos of war crimes, the impact of agent orange, and prisoners of war. Even though our baby was only 6 months old at the time, I shielded her eyes from a lot of the photos. We left the museum feeling depleted but educated.

During our visit to Ho Chi Minh City, I saw the influence of the war and colonialism everywhere, but I also saw that it’s one of the most vibrant cities I’ve ever visited. Everyone we met was so kind, obsessed with our chunky baby, and very happy to meet Americans.

Even though the people we met embraced us as Americans, I’d still go into it expecting otherwise and being a bit reserved. That tinge of self-consciousness is a healthy attitude for Americans generally speaking—a reminder that we’re not 100% good, or admired, or necessary.

Reims

A couple of months ago, we booked a last-minute trip to Champagne. Because we have a toddler, we decided 2 champagne house visits was enough, so we decided to check out the Musée de la Reddition.

The museum is housed in an unassuming building that was Eisenhower’s HQ during the final months of the war. While the majority of the museum consists of displays of news clippings, models of planes and artillery, or mannequins wearing different uniforms from the war, there’s one room that’s completely preserved from 1945: the map room where the German surrender happened.

The (48) Stars & Stripes, the Room Where It Happened, and the US military newspaper announcement

Standing in the very room where the Germans surrendered awed me. It felt pivotal. And most surprisingly to me, it reminded me what it feels like to be proud to be an American. And wow, what a strange time to feel proud to be an American. Is there a mix of proud and sad?

Final thoughts

It is complicated to be an American right now, no matter where you live. I recognize there’s so much privilege in being able to live in another country. One of the ways I try to prove worthy of this privilege is to seek out places like these so I can learn more than what’s in our American history books. There’s no single point of view to any event, and seeking out the different sides feels like a way to get closer to the truth. I wish all Americans could feel this perspective, especially now.