January 22, 1969. The nurse’s class is just over; many of the students hug and kiss me and won’t let me go. Only Ninh* is very sad holding my hand and saying: “I go home my sister”, and I don’t understand why she puts her head on my shoulder and cries. Many of the students cry when they say good-by but why does only this girl make me sad? Is it that I love her because her house was burned down completely with not a grain of rice left to eat? Is it because of her loyalty and the many times she wanted to tell me her feelings, and is it because Ninh loves and cares for her “brother Ba” (Thuan)? Maybe for all these reasons. Go home my young sister; I hope you will be a strong in the hours of hardship for a nurse in the Revolution. Your feet are so small but I believe that your strides will be large and long during the great life of our generation.
February 7, 1969. At night in an old widowed mother’s house: the fire light in the kitchen won’t let me sleep, or perhaps it is that the burning affections of a young man warm me and make me forget the cold in the jungle. I felt so sad when I heard him say: “My dear sister, if something happens to me and I cannot tell you my final words, then just think of today and that I said them to you already”. Holding him in my heart I am confused when I think that war never cares about anyone: perhaps he will fall because of his revolutionary duty. That moment… what will happen? Can the sound of my sigh tell him about my worry and my love for him?
February 8, 1969. Finished a part of the hard journey, 14 days of climbing up mountains and going down through rivers under the sun and the rain. All through these hardships I felt very happy because there was a sea of love everywhere. From comrades we never before knew to strangers on the road, all the people knew of our enthusiasm in helping the Duc Pho group.
How happy I am that the people in Duc Pho feel that I belong there. I share with them the happiness and pride of their heroic land. I am glad that at all the meetings the Duc Pho group is awarded first priority in all things, all the highest honors, all their love, and I a girl from Ha Noi have my own share in all these things.
Something else Thuy: during the hard and joyful days when you live beside these people that you love is that happiness still growing? All the people that I love… the experienced cadre understanding and loving me even though we meet just one time… the young cadre who just left their school chairs starting their duties all with different talents and accomplishing the highest goals… the kind girl friend working hard, knowing how to do more for others than for herself… and the young man who gives me all of his affection, taking care of everything for me and showing me a unique and wonderful affection. After more than ten days of living with him I asked myself: “Why is there that kind of devotion?” Between me and him everyone knows clearly that we care for each other like brother and sister, very clean, clear and true. So what must we watch for young brother? I have to answer this question before asking him.
February 11, 1969. My dear Thuy! Why? Why can’t you sleep with all of the pictures in front of your eyes? Why with all of the jobs waiting for your decisions can’t you forget the things which remind you of what is in your heart? What can I say? Love always has a mind to lead and I can never let love go from my thoughts. So… forget all the thoughts of love burning in your heart and pay attention to your job. Please forget all the love in your heart filled with the vigor of life. Can’t you hear all the guns firing outside which is the start of the big spring offensive?
February 14, 1969. Went to dinner with some of the northern troops. There were lots of faces and lots of voices which reminded me of all the days of socialism. I was supposed to stay longer to talk with them but I said good-bye and slowly walked back because my heart felt so lonely. The afternoon sunshine left the mountain top. New Years comes already, the third New Year away from home. I am supposed to grow accustomed to the loveliness of this strange land far away from home, I am supposed to feel the warm hearts of all the people in Duc Pho and Quang Ngai, but I still feel like the day I left home. I still hope to live with my parents and family and to believe I am yet a child to be taken care of. I want my mother to love me like she did when I was small. I want to write and tell my young brother all those things, but perhaps it is not necessary.
