I had just arrived when Thuan reported that we should prepare to meet the wounded from the 120th Unit* which had been fighting in the District. Three were seriously wounded, one of them Tam. Hearing that, I concentrated only on the medical problems. At 10 o’clock they arrived: comrade Loi very seriously hurt and almost dead, comrade Thanh’s wound not so bad but not good, and Tam… the little Pho Cuong boy with the very nice singing voice, big eyes, and very lovely personality… one leg was lost to a mine. He lay motionless in very serious condition. All my attention was to save him, but my heart was full of sorrow. It’s not only that there was so much bleeding, but that there remained so much, much more. “Be strengthened young man!” I talked to him and worried so much. All the long night no-one wanted to sleep, but worry and sorrow made me tired. At 3 o’clock in the morning I got up; he (Thuan) sent me on the road up the hill. My dear young man, don’t ever let misfortune happen to you, do you hear me?
June 16, 1969. All the memorable days which I will never forget, but what will I think of when I remember them: sadness, happiness, regrets, or something else? I already know how to do very well in all situations when emotions are so complex.
June 17, 1969. Isn’t it only the sorrow of love? If it were only that there wouldn’t be that fire-like burning, I wouldn’t have the strength to control all my thinking about love for a person. How can I explain? Before this, now, and later I always force my heart to follow the thinking of my mind, so I never make all the mistakes others make.
But here is a thing which surprises me about hard decisions…because if what I said is wrong then it isn’t right, but if what I said is right then it still isn’t right. What can I do? Oh! Life is so complicated and this cruel war makes life a thousand times more complex.
It’s late at night but the sky is still bright: is it because of the firing and flashes of the guns, or is it because of bright eyes shining with love? Is it the summer’s heat or the heat of emotion which leaves me breathless? Sadness and happiness mix together, but what is happiness? There is only sadness pressing heavily on my heart, a heart eager and thirsty for love but understanding the kind of love which will make it feel alive. This heart can only accept clean and clear blood and cannot accept diseased blood. Of course if there is no blood the heart will die, but it would rather die and remain the bright, precious heart of a genuine communist.
June 18, 1969. I received a letter from the family, one filled with peaceful colors. All the streets are red with summer flowers and the small room is filled with the fragrant scent of lotus. The familiar radio cabinet stands in the middle of the house. Oh! My dear bother and sister, that scene is far away… your sister Thuy only knows the gunfire at night and the smell of fire in her nose. The day that we said good-bye was so heavy, sad, and sorry… I felt so depressed when I read your letter.
At this time many people were leaving to go north. They were very happy to leave, but when they came to say good-bye didn’t show this happiness. But for me, I was smiling, happy to send them on their way. Afterwards I stayed by myself, not knowing what to say. My dear Thuy, don’t be sad, promise that tomorrow when the country is independent that you will also return north at a time when happiness will be complete.
June 25, 1969. The enemy arrived very early in the morning so with nothing yet to eat we had to run… more than a year and a half and needing to go to the foxholes again, the weather’s heat making me so tired. The situation with the enemy is very tense; their troops operating in all three hamlets of the village. The American soldiers, the enemy and the police fight with each other. The foxhole in which I lay was not that far from the enemy. Four of us went into it but didn’t pull on the cover because of the heat. It was noon already and Tan stood guard though he seemed tired. He sat down next to me to tell me about the enemy’s mopping-up operation. Suddenly we heard their yells and Tan looked out and hurried to close the cover. The enemy came up as close as 5 meters away from where we hid and the cover, closed hurriedly, was still exposed. I heard the enemies step on the wild pineapple plants and their calls shouted back and forth to each other. At my side Tan whispered in my ear: “If we are discovered what can we do?”
Then die!
No, I don’t want that, because for me it is alright, but for you what will your parents think about that…
Then he looked at me so worried and filled with care. I turned away and didn’t look back again. In those eyes were the words Khoriuchia said to Pavel in prison. I felt so sorry for him and for myself but there was no alternative. I would still do as Pavel did in that situation.
This war is so hard; I hope to stand strong as a communist.
