Vietnam Seeking Return of Americans as Tourists : Asia: Besides the usual lures of temples and culture, officials are pushing another attraction--war.

Care for a cruise to the underground guerrilla tunnels of Cu Chi, where you can fire real AK-47s for a dollar a bullet?

A friendly jaunt to Khe Sanh, site of a ferocious battle that drew the heaviest concentration of firepower in the history of U.S. warfare?

How about a 10-day jungle tour down the Ho Chi Minh Trail, complete with war games and toy guns that shoot red dye?

Vietnam declared 1990 the “Year of the Tourist,” kicking off concentrated efforts to develop its tourism industry. Besides the usual tourist lures of temples, beaches and ancient cultures, Vietnamese officials are pushing another attraction--war.

Commercializing the bitter conflict that killed 50,000 Americans and injured 200,000 others strikes some Vietnam veterans as a bizarre exercise in bad taste. Particularly since the socialist nation is trying to end its international isolation through more liberal trade and foreign policies.

“For Vietnam veterans going back now, it’s to go back and see the country at peace, see villagers working in rice paddies and not be afraid of bombs, to see people not antagonistic but welcoming and friendly,” said Mary Stout, president of the Vietnam Veterans of America. “If the Vietnamese are talking about war games on the Ho Chi Minh Trail, that is not something a lot of Vietnam veterans would be interested in.”

But Vietnamese officials say that numerous veterans have asked for permission to return to battle sites that have remained off-limits to foreigners. Why not open the sites up, let the catharsis begin--and make a dollar in the process?

“When I was in the States, many people said they would like to go from north to south by the Ho Chi Minh Trail. The American vets would like to see again where they were during the war,” said Nguyen Khac Thin, public relations officer of the state-owned Saigon Tourist. “Once the U.S. embargo is lifted, we think many more of these people would like to come to Vietnam.”

Vietnamese officials are also promoting more conventional attractions, but the country lacks many of the basics for developing tourism. Air flights are still limited. Transportation within Vietnam is difficult. For example, the 109-mile trip from Hanoi to Halong Bay, a cove filled with stone caves and 3,000 tiny islands, takes four hours by car over bumpy roads.

To reach central Vietnam’s Da Lat--the “City of Love” with waterfalls, rolling hills and lakes--visitors can wait for the twice-weekly flights from Ho Chi Minh City or brave a five-hour jarring car ride.

Hotel rooms are a problem as well. There is only one five-star hotel in Vietnam, the Saigon Floating Hotel, and officials project that another 2,000 to 3,000 hotel rooms are needed to accommodate demand. Several foreign companies are putting up new hotels. But making Vietnam the paradise of Indochina is still years away.

In the meantime, war mementos are becoming Vietnam’s biggest tourist attraction. Take Cu Chi, for instance.

Anti-French fighters first began digging the underground tunnel complex in the 1940s to hide weapons. During the Vietnam War, Viet Cong guerrillas vastly expanded the network to 200 miles and used it to to evade American bombs and travel undetected under patrolled roads.

The tunnels were a state secret until 1986. Today, Cu Chi is proudly promoted by government tourists officials as “the highlight of Ho Chi Minh City.” Officials say 500 people a day visit during peak tourist season.

On a recent day, Nguyen To Manh, a former Vietnamese army captain in dark glasses and close-cropped hair, lectured 14 foreign tourists about the tunnel system. Then the visitors from Thailand, China, France, the Philippines and the United States scampered into the jungle. They stomped around, looking for the secret entrance.

They descended into the tunnels, dimly lit and widened for Western physiques. Past the hollowed-out rooms for the commander in chief, the political committee and the kitchen, a tour guide pointed out a trapdoor that dropped enemies to their death on iron spikes below.

“Now it’s so solid, you can dance on it,” the grinning guide said, hopping up and down on the door.

Afterward, the tourists donned military caps bearing the gold star of Hanoi, grabbed AK-47 rifles and took turns hamming it up. Smile! Cameras clicked furiously.

The journey from Ho Chi Minh City--formerly Saigon--to Cu Chi takes about 90 minutes each way in vans, which sometimes leak gasoline and gave a recent French tourist nausea. To make the journey more comfortable, Saigon Tourist recently spent $20,000 paving over a bumpy red dirt road to better protect delicate foreign bottoms. The agency is planning boat rides to the tunnels down the Saigon River.

Officials are also learning about marketing. A year ago, Cu Chi’s refreshment stand consisted of an old U.S Army jerrycan filled with cold drinks. Today, officials have put up a thatched hut offering Heineken beer and Coca-Cola. A souvenir stand sells hammocks, U.S. military oil lamps and T-shirts emblazoned with smiling and armed Viet Cong women: “I’ve been to the Cu Chi tunnels.”

The latest attraction was built six months ago: a firing range where tourists can shoot real Russian AK-47s and American M-16s for a dollar a bullet.

Why on earth would they want to?

“To get some shocking feelings,” said Nguyen Tri Dung, a tour guide with Saigon Tourist. The range pulls in about $50 a day.

But not all of the Cu Chi tour is grim war memories. A new open-air restaurant offering local specialties such as cang chua dau ca, or sour fish soup, opened a year ago next to the Saigon River. The billboard beckons tourists to enjoy the “Fresh Air, Natural, Romantic Atmosphere.”

Beyond Cu Chi, tour officials are planning to open tours to former battlefields, such as Khe Sanh. But the piece de resistance is the Ho Chi Minh Trail trip. The famous route, which snakes through thick jungle in the mountainous terrain of eastern Laos, was used by the North Vietnamese to infiltrate the south. Dung said the idea is to let tourists make part of the trip by van and part by foot, with nightly camps set up in the jungle.

For entertainment, officials are hoping to offer war games, with tourists dividing into two camps and competing to control a military base.

“You could be like real soldiers,” Dung said. “You could wear real military uniforms and use real weapons, but not with real bullets.”

Bruce Burns, a San Jose lawyer and Vietnam veteran who has returned 15 times in the last three years, jokingly suggested to Vietnamese authorities that they should offer helicopter rides from the top of the former U.S. Embassy, billing the attraction as the “Last Flight Out.” So far, no one has taken him up on the idea.

Burns, who specializes in refugee cases, said he gets five to 10 calls a week from veterans asking him how to arrange trips to Vietnam.

“There are veterans who absolutely hate Vietnam and never want to see it again, but I think there are still veterans who are attracted to the country because of what they did and saw in their youth,” Burns said.

Stout also said many veterans find it cathartic to return to places they fought in--one person even returned to where he was shot. But reviving the memory of violence through firing ranges or war games is in bad taste, she said.

Other Americans who did not serve in the war also find the idea offensive.

“Perhaps as a woman and American, I’m not interested in reliving horrible places like that,” said Nina Hale, a Washington lawyer who traveled to Vietnam for the first time in October.

Hale said she was particularly put off by the War Museum, which is a standard stop on the Ho Chi Minh City tour. The museum features old tanks and aircraft, a gallery of nightmarish photos chronicling American “atrocities” and displays on how Agent Orange and other chemicals deformed the land and people.

“To have your nose rubbed in the fact that your country trashed the place . . . it was too harsh a reminder and takes away from the perspective all tourists have, which is an escape from unpleasantness,” said Hale, 35, who specializes in refugee affairs.

“It was also too one-sided. There was no concession to the fact that a lot of Americans suffered and died there too.”

Hale said the Vietnamese should use the war as a lesson. For instance, the Japanese built a peace memorial at Hiroshima to convey the horrors of nuclear war to all humankind. She also said the country should more strongly promote its beaches, culture and ethnic minorities, such as the Cham.

“See a Cham village, so Americans can rid themselves of the image of Viet Cong in cone hats and black pajamas who are out to get our boys,” Hale said.

“The best part of visiting Vietnam as an American is to actually see the people, to humanize something that is an unfortunate part of our history.”

That is also the advice offered by Patrick Imbardelli, the Australian general manager of the Saigon Floating Hotel, the first foreign-owned hotel in Vietnam. Imbardelli is working with the Vietnamese and the United Nations Development Program to draw up a master plan to promote tourism. The plan is expected to be released next year.

“People want to see pagodas, temples. But for the Vietnamese, the attractions are the War Museum and Cu Chi. Do you really think hundreds of Japanese from a war-stricken place like Japan want to queue up outside the atrocities museum?” Imbardelli asked.

Maybe not, but Saigon Tourist officials also have a plan for the Japanese: offering tours to the Japanese warships that are believed to have been sunk by Americans during World War II in Vietnamese coastal waters. Tour guide Dung said he recently arranged a special three-day trip to a small island for a group of former Japanese sailors. They offered sake, fruit and food to the spirits of their dead comrades.

Still, Vietnamese officials say they are well aware that they must promote their country as something other than a symbol of war. The numbers tell the story. Since Vietnam opened its doors to the world in 1987, foreign visitors have more than quintupled, from 41,000 in 1986 to 250,000 in 1990, according to the Vietnam National Administration for Tourism. During that same period, tourist revenues have grown from $46 million to $68 million.

But those numbers are dwarfed by other Southeast Asian competitors. Malaysia, for instance, drew 4 million tourists and $839 million in revenues during its “Year of the Tourist” in 1989. Even the Philippines--which has been plagued by frequent coup attempts, flooding, earthquakes and a moribund economy--drew 1.2 million tourists and $1.2 billion in receipts in 1989.

What the Philippines has that Vietnam lacks is a more alluring image, Imbardelli said.

“Don’t base tourism on the war thing. Base it on the mystique of the Orient,” Imbardelli said, warming up to one of his favorite topics. “The culture of the past, the handicrafts, the combination of two cultures in the north and south. The Mekong Delta, the old magic of Hue city built on the Perfume River. The beautiful sand, palm trees, tropical feel. My God, think of it!”