Liberation soldier quality

At 2:00 p.m. on April 26, 1975, following orders from his superiors, Thanh had his unit safely assembled. Thanh turned on the machine to report the situation, but he was not happy. Saigon was very close. With the naked eye, he could clearly see many tall roofs. Yet Thanh's unit had to stop here.

Hearing Thanh's voice, the battalion commander on the other end of the line said: "You don't understand the new mission? Look, the mission of maintaining the revolutionary government is a hundred times more difficult than that of a soldier holding a gun on the battlefield. Don't underestimate it or you'll ruin your job."

So Thanh had to take on the position of chairman of the military management committee. The battalion commander also gave careful instructions on how to communicate with the people: "People who have lived too long in the temporarily occupied area will be more or less affected. Don't let them misunderstand you as a revolutionary soldier."

Handing over the set to the signalman, Thanh went to check the living quarters of the platoons. Although the soldiers under Thanh's command were all working happily, there was still something awkward about it. Only the children were carefree and fearless. When Thanh's unit arrived, the children rushed out to welcome them.

It seemed that the people were still afraid to interact with the liberation soldiers. Among the children, Thanh noticed a black boy of about ten years old. His name was Bin. He looked at each liberation soldier very carefully. Suddenly he asked Thanh: "I heard people say that the liberation soldiers stayed in the forest for so long that they grew tails." The children laughed loudly. Thanh could not laugh. He approached Bin, put his hand on his shoulder and gently asked: "Who told you that?". "My mother." Bin was dry. "So have you seen any liberation soldier with a tail?". Bin did not answer. He gently shook his big, curly head and then walked away. A moment later, he patted Thanh's pistol, boasting: "My mother also has one like this." Thanh quickly asked: "What is your mother's name?" Without thinking, Bin immediately replied: "Name? Tu Huong. Easy. Everyone in this commune knows her."

Now sitting in front of Thanh was a young woman named Tu Huong, about thirty-seven years old, a bit plump, with half-closed eyes. Those eyes reminded Thanh of the eyes of a window. Their owner wanted to see others clearly while not wanting anyone to see her clearly. "Sir Lieutenant Colonel, Chairman of the Military Management Committee. I am Nguyen Thi Huong, commonly known as Tu Huong, a first sergeant in the Swan Army of the Republic of Vietnam Armed Forces. Are you asking about my husband? My husband was a lieutenant whom you called an American bandit. He was shot dead by you at the Khe Sanh front in 1972." Anger flashed across Huong's face. But it only lasted for a moment before returning to a look of indifference and contempt. Tu Huong came to hand in her gun and present herself with a defiant attitude. Thanh was constantly troubled by Tu Huong's undisguised conservative denial of the revolution.

At first, Thanh intended to explain that he was not a lieutenant colonel and argue with her to dispel the wrong prejudice about the liberation soldier, but because of his temper, he ruined that good intention. He was not a political officer. Having just stepped out of the war for a day, the heart of a liberation soldier was still boiling. All the aftertaste of war such as hatred and the will to attack the enemy was still intact.

In Tu Huong's self-declaration, it was written: "Poor family, many siblings, so right after finishing high school, I applied to join the Swan Army to earn money to support my mother and my younger siblings. Lived the way I wanted. Worked freely. No love. No hope. Married an African-American. Gave birth to Bin alone. Didn't like communism." Thanh believed Tu Huong's self-declaration was true.

The imprint of old Saigon life is still very strong in a person who does not want to change, does not want to integrate with today's life. Thanh explained to Tu Huong about the humanity of the Liberation Front towards those who make mistakes and repent. Indeed, the work of explaining and mobilizing the masses is not suitable for the ability of a military officer like Thanh.

At the end of the debate with Tu Huong, Thanh said: “Later, people can count the number of casualties, the number of broken families, etc. But they cannot measure the pain, loss, torment, and anguish of the fathers, mothers, wives, and children of those who took up arms and went to war yesterday. Do you understand what I mean? I hope you will find a direction for yourself that fits into the new society, and live a better life in the future.”

Hearing Thanh speak, Tu Huong smiled arrogantly, indicating that she was ready to wait for the judgment of the liberation side. Now, she had nothing to lose to be afraid of. But no. There would be no bloodbath. There would be no revenge.

Tu Huong returned, Thanh was still deep in thought. Previously, Thanh felt that this problem was beyond the duty of a soldier like him. You reap what you sow. That was the inevitable law of cause and effect. Even at that time, Thanh still had a resentful thought in his heart. But now that he was faced with a real person with a concrete life, those prejudices were being eroded.

Thanh wanted to do something to make Tu Huong and the people here no longer feel inferior. The bomb craters would be filled. As for a reckless person like Tu Huong, when would he ever return to normal? He, the chairman of the military management committee, had to take responsibility.

One conversation cannot erase the imprint that has been imprinted on people's minds for twenty years under the old regime. But it is a sign that the dawn is about to break. Moreover, patience is necessary.

In less than a day, the children in the neighborhood became closer to the liberation soldiers. They quickly learned each person's name and their characteristics. When they returned home, they told their parents everything and asked: "Our house is so big, why don't we welcome some of them to live here for fun? It's such a pity to leave them lying in the garden." Their parents quickly covered their mouths with their hands. They didn't know much about the liberation soldiers. What if...

The children, on the other hand, were not afraid. Bin seemed to be the “leader”. He assigned each child to help the uncles. They all obeyed. No one dared to argue. After playing, Bin asked to teach them how to sing. Thanh also felt the need to change the way the children sang. The old way of singing sounded too weak and whining. They were all heartbroken and in tears. Thanh promised to teach them the song “Who loves Uncle Ho Chi Minh” tonight. Bin looked happy.

When the children arrived on time, Thanh asked: "Didn't any of you bring notebooks to write?". The children looked at each other awkwardly. Bin said: "We don't even know how to read, why do we need pens and notebooks?" Thanh sighed. So that's it. Their parents were so busy trying to make ends meet that they were weak, so literacy was a luxury. Lacking rice and money meant instant death. No one had ever died from lack of literacy.

That is impossible. This is urgent work. Hunger and ignorance are the companions of foreign invaders. Tomorrow morning at the meeting, in the name of the chairman of the military management committee, Thanh will bring up this issue and call on all teachers to quickly return to their posts to set up classes.

Thanh asked: "Do you want to learn to read and write?" Bin raised his eyes and asked back: "Does it cost money to learn?" It was hard to answer. When Thanh was in the North, he still had to pay tuition. Even though it was just symbolic. But now... Thanh thought for a moment and then answered: "It doesn't cost money. We will teach in the evening." Thanh immediately thought of soldier Ha. He was a third-year university student. He would ask the battalion to transfer Ha to teaching. That would fix one thing.

At 21 o'clock, the group had learned the song, Thanh let the children rest. The children stood up and went home. Suddenly Thanh heard a rather heavy "thump". Being a veteran of many battles, having fought on many fronts, Thanh understood at that moment that it was the sound of a grenade falling. Thanh only had time to shout: "Lie down". Then he quickly rushed to crush the thing that was emitting a green lightning bolt right behind Bin.

“Mom. I can only wish that after I am discharged from the army, I will work to help you a little so that you don’t have to cross the Bau ferry to Yen market every morning to sell small baskets of sticky rice. After selling, you will rush back to prepare to go to the fields. Everything might be gone. Peace is only a matter of days and hours. It would be a pity to die now, wouldn’t it, Mom? But there are still my grandchildren standing in front of me. I have to save them.”

A terrible explosion like tearing the night sky.

Tu Huong rushed in like a whirlwind. Her eyes widened in flames as she looked at the two men who had just thrown the grenade and were tied up and their wings were pulled. None of them dared to look straight at her. Tu Huong's voice was cold and creepy: "I thought it was someone else, but it turned out to be those bastards." Suddenly Tu Huong roared like a wounded animal: "Who threw the grenade? Who killed Thanh? Who? Are you all mute? Speak up." She rushed forward, snatched the AK from a soldier's hand, and loaded it with a "pop." Everyone rushed over to stop her.

The funeral of Captain Thanh was very crowded. Everyone cried because they mourned the liberation soldier who had sacrificed his life to save nearly twenty children. Tu Huong asked the unit for permission to let Bin mourn Thanh. "Consider it as giving birth to him a second time." Tu Huong said so. No one could refuse the gratitude of the woman who "fell from the sky." Tu Huong walked slowly, then slowly following the funeral procession. She whispered: "Thanh, after only two days of living with the people on the other side, I have realized many things. I don't understand much about the liberation soldier, but I know that inside that simple Uncle Ho soldier is a noble sacrifice, a deep depth of compassion, and a miraculous altruism."