For several months now, our unit has been carrying out the mission of searching for the remains of Vietnamese volunteer soldiers who died on the Cambodian battlefields over the years.
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| Illustration: Pham Cong Hoang |
The old landscape has changed over the years, so it is very difficult to determine the burial sites of the martyrs, despite the enthusiastic support from friends and people in the villages and hamlets. The work is very hard, because of the blazing sun and terrible afternoon rains, but we are aware of our responsibility to our comrades who have fallen for the peace of the country, for the noble international duty, so all those hardships are just a measure of our endurance.
Each hoe plunged into the ground was a ray of hope that I would find your grave; as for me, I secretly hoped to find the grave of the pretty, lovely girl - my first love who had left her body on this land. After 2 relatively large-scale searches, nearly 400 remains were gathered, but most of them were unidentified, so the hope of finding her grave was very slim.
Just when it seemed hopeless, the last grave dug that day under the purple-flowered Lagerstroemia tree by the stream was indeed her grave. I was speechless when I held the keepsake I had given to Thu Suong long ago - a silver ring engraved with the first two letters of our names. Oh my! It had been decades.
last year...
In the rainy season of 1978, the war at the Southwest border was at its peak, I was wounded while pursuing the enemy and was taken to the rear for treatment. Missing my hometown, missing my mother and especially missing my lover, combined with the pessimistic mood about my eyes, I sometimes felt discouraged; but then those moments of weakness passed when I realized that I was luckier than my comrades. Thinking about it, I fell asleep without knowing when. When I woke up, I heard a girl crying softly in my ear and that person's hand was on my chest. I gently touched it and that person suddenly grabbed my hand and sobbed: "Brother! You're awake! I'm here! My Thu Suong is here!". I was as bewildered as someone in a dream, my mouth was mumbling and I couldn't form words. I couldn't believe that she was here, even though it was true. The moment of joy and sadness passed, she examined my wound and emotionally told me about the time we were apart and why she was here.
After the day you left, I was very proud of my friends but also very sad. On moonlit nights, I sat alone with my guitar, playing the songs you taught me, missing you terribly. I only received your letter once and replied to you dozens of times, but there was no news. At first, I was very angry with you, but the angrier I got, the more I felt sorry for you, because I also understood that no one had a harder time than a soldier, especially during war, when danger was always lurking. And then, one time, I heard a military officer at the Medical School talking about the situation of the border war, about the sacred duty of young people to know how to hold guns when the country needed them; after a few nights of thinking, I signed up to serve on the battlefield, even though many people tried to stop me.
I left with the belief that one day we would meet on the battlefield. During the months I worked at this frontline hospital, wounded soldiers were transferred every day. I was always anxious, hoping that you were among them so I could meet you, but then I also hoped that you weren't among them. These past few days, when I went to get medicine, I suddenly felt like my heart was on fire, feeling that something bad had happened to you, but then I quickly dispelled that thought and found a reason that because of the lack of food and hardship, my body was just asking for a little to comfort my anxiety.
In the following days, at the frontline hospital, everyone praised Thu Suong for not only her skillful hands with gentle movements when bandaging, caring for wounds, giving injections, and her words of comfort and encouragement, but also her sweet singing voice that seemed to soothe the physical pain of the wounded soldiers.
The wound healed relatively quickly and the day came for me to return to the unit. That night, the full moon, brighter than usual, had just risen above the treetops, and a gentle breeze swayed the branches and leaves, making the scene poetic and magical. Thu Suong fell into my arms. All the memories and love were compressed and reserved for this moment. In an instant, we suddenly forgot that this was the front line. In tears streaming down her face, Thu Suong whispered: "I love you so much! I pray that everything will go well, that the war will end soon, I hope we meet in Phnom Penh so you can take me to visit the pagoda, the Royal Palace; then we will be discharged from the army to continue studying and complete our university program"... Looking deeply into those eyes, I seemed to understand Thu Suong's feelings and also my own, and I had no idea that this would be the last time we were together...
The day Cambodia was freed from genocide, we shared your joy. In the chaos of the city after the liberation, the situation in Phnom Penh was still very complicated, so although I intended to take Thu Suong to Phnom Penh to satisfy her wish, I still could not fulfill it. But that small dream never came true, when I accidentally met a friend who was also in the frontline hospital and informed me that Thu Suong had sacrificed her life on the way to receive medicine, encountering an enemy ambush...
At the solemn ceremony to receive the martyrs' remains and the memorial and burial ceremonies; the sad music of the song "Soul of the Martyr" and the incense smoke billowed, everyone bowed their heads in silence, their eyes were red.
When everyone left, I still wanted to sit with her, with many comrades for a few more moments, those who had devoted their youth, their whole lives for the peace of the country, for the noble international duty... after decades in a foreign land, now I can return to sleep in the bosom of mother earth, the eternal sleep...
The sun had disappeared behind the clouds in the west, the weak rays of sunlight remaining on the dark purple sky. The space at the cemetery was strangely quiet and still, only the sound of the wind could be heard, like the messages of those who had passed away... I bowed my head beside Thu Suong's grave, all the memories of the past suddenly came flooding back, I suddenly felt like I saw Thu Suong in a white blouse, her smile hidden under the sunset...
Memoirs of Vo Ngoc Vinh
Source: https://baodongnai.com.vn/dong-nai-cuoi-tuan/202507/duoi-bong-ta-duong-83b327b/
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