Vietnam honors a hero of WWII who helped fight Japanese

For the half-century or so he has lived in Seattle, Mac Shin didn't want to draw much attention to his collaboration and friendship with Ho Chi Minh, the revolutionary father of Vietnamese independence largely known to most in the U.S. simply as the leader of the communist forces in the Vietnam War.

"Many people here don't like Uncle Ho," Shin would repeatedly explain to friends and family.

But many don't know that Ho Chi Minh, decades before the Vietnam War, worked with agents of the American military to fight against the Japanese during World War II. Shin was one of those agents who, in the 1940s, tramped through the jungles with Ho's small army to train the resistance forces for the Allies.

"He is one of the few men alive who witnessed this great moment in history," said Nguyen Tien Minh, deputy chief of the Vietnamese Embassy in Washington, D.C. "He had the privilege to work and live with our legendary leader."

On Saturday, Nguyen Tien Minh and another colleague from the embassy, Nguyen Ba Long, met with Shin, his wife, Rose, and friends in a restaurant in the International District for a small, private ceremony. They presented Shin with one of Vietnam's highest honors, known as The Commemorative Medal For Peace and Fellowship Among Nations.

Shin

Shin, 84, who is deaf and also partially disabled by a stroke, lifted his teacup in response and in a tearful voice said: "Long live the United States. Long live Vietnam. And long live Uncle Ho."

"Mac has always just sparkled with his enthusiasm for life," said Dr. David Christie, a Seattle physician who used to work with Shin (who became an X-ray technician when he emigrated to the United States in the 1950s). It's wonderful, Christie said, that Shin is being recognized for his daring work in the resistance during World War II.

Few today are aware of this "footnote in history," said Cristoph Giebel, a University of Washington expert on Southeast Asia.

The OSS, the agency that preceded the CIA, recruited Shin in China to help forge a close philosophical and political alliance between the U.S. and the growing Vietnamese independence movement, Giebel said.

"A lot of the OSS people were really enamored with Ho Chi Minh," he said.

Though he is often viewed simply as Vietnam's iconic communist, the UW professor said it is more accurate to think of Ho as a fervent nationalist originally motivated by opposition to French colonial rule of Vietnam -- and inspired by the writings of Thomas Jefferson and the American fight for independence from Britain.

This was the man Shin knew and loved as a kindred spirit, said Giebel. The UW historian has known Shin for more than a decade and, in 2001, accompanied him to visit some of his surviving former compatriots in Vietnam.

"The only reason Mac's role has become a footnote of history is because of what happened later," he said.

After World War II was over, Ho read a new declaration of independence for Vietnam to a massive crowd in Hanoi with direct quotes taken from the 1776 American document of the same name. But despite the strong relationship and expectations built up from this OSS-Viet Minh partnership to fight the Japanese occupiers, the Allied powers no longer supported Vietnam's independence.

Rather, France was allowed to restore its colonial rule over the nation. Ho and his army felt abandoned by the Western powers.

Had things played out differently, had the man Shin once called "grandpapa" not felt betrayed, some experts believe the tragic collision to come years later between this Southeast Asian nation and the American military might never have happened.

Shin, for a brief time, served as Ho's primary radio operator. He lived in close proximity to the revolutionary leader, Giebel said, and the two became close friends.

Shin and others with the OSS sneaked through the jungle, hid in caves and risked their lives, believing they were playing a critical role in cementing a strong, lasting bond between America and Vietnam.

On Saturday, after more than 50 years, some of this bond once broken so badly was restored in the corner of a small restaurant at Fifth Avenue and Jackson Street.