Giau’s death surprised me! In the fighting today, spies showed them Giau’s hiding place and the mines and bullets of the bloodthirsty enemy killed him and 5 other guerillas. Just last night I met him at Xuan Thanh, as the new leader of the Pho Cuong medics he was happy to see me again. He was so different form the other times I had met him. Maybe of all the things Thuan gave him to do there was one thing Thuan didn’t mention and that was the responsibility to protect me, a village cadre and a person he cares for. Giau accepted that duty with diligence. He took Thuan’s place to escort me to work from one location to another. Late at night he led me to Thuan’s house and spoke with him: “Now let Thuy stay with you or go back with me”. Thuan laughed and said: “It depends on you”. Giau let me stay with Thuan. “Please protect Tram, okay?” He didn’t leave until late that night.
I didn’t think that night as I walked around with him on the circuitous path in the village, and ate with him those melons and the rice soup late at night with his warm family that it would be the last time.
Tonight there is still me, the moonlight, and the same situation, but Giau lies peaceful in the ground already.
His young wife with a child in her arms sits still as a corpse. I don’t know what to say to her and my tears almost came when I heard her say with a voice charged with emotion: “He is already safe, but you and Thuan have to try to stay safe to keep from losing everything”.
Oh God! What else can I have except revenge…revenge for all the people who have fallen, and also for the people still alive in the sorrow and deep hatreds in our hearts?
This young woman looked at me one more time and with black eyes said to me in the calm: “Why is life so short? We must do something so that we are not sorry when we die”.
June 29, 1969. Death still continues to make the hearts of the living bleed. A wounded soldier with his leg cut off by a mine came to the dispensary at 3:15. It was Lieu, a village comrade from Pho Cuong… not so long ago he led me to hide in the trenches, today…
Looking at him my heart burns with worry. If all the people that I love meet this fate what will happen, and if this stays the same, then what?
July 7, 1969. I said good-by to the Southerners as I left to go north to work for awhile. This afternoon I left Pho Cuong to go the tragic way and started on the life-ordeath section of road called Khe Sanh*.
Leaving the familiar beloved land I felt excited and began already to miss it. I am so bound up in this poor land. The mothers, the young women, the local cadre and the guerillas all seem to know and love me. Walking anywhere in the village I would hear familiar voices saying hello “second sister” and all the friendly hands would hold mine tight.
And can anything compare with the true deep affection that this young man has given me? He sat there with his head on the table worried and sorry for me when he saw that I was going into danger. His hands held mine tight and I felt him tremble with emotion and worry. He asked: “Are you coming back to me?”
I wanted to encourage him so hid my concern about whether I might survive at “Khe Sanh”. I continued to smile but my heart was so pained that this might be the last time we saw each other.
Dear young man! How can I reduce your image small enough to carry with me through these days of hardship, and why have you given your affections so completely to me?
Well, good-bye everyone: I hope to see you all again in happiness.
July 8, 1969. I returned to the familiar house at Pho Hiep* with its dried fruit trees at the edge of the village well and saw Nghia and Thuong there.
Nghia and I talked for the afternoon, but it was not enough time to mend the break in our affections. But I still liked the fact that “the sky is blue and clear again after the rains and storm”. I forgave him all his mistakes and felt happy when I saw that he returned to our previous relationship.
At night I went to Khe Sanh and everyone worried about me. Tan and Cho accompanied me to Vinh Phuoc*, the young woman worrying about me which made me sad. Before this I didn’t realize the extent of her affections. Possibly because Thuan worried so much she had to follow, but I now discovered her true devotion. From the strategic road to the pond until mealtime, Cho took care of me all the way, even with a bowl of rice and a piece of fish. For awhile she sighed: “I worry too much, how can you go to Khe Sanh where the bullets are like rain? What can you do there if you are left, or should I go with you and then return?” I touched her hand and said: “Don’t worry, I can go by myself; if something unfortunate should happen then no one will know”. But that night at Khe Sanh there was no fire or grenades at all. It seemed that the enemy felt sorry for the weak legs of a girl who lives in love and amongst people who cared for her since she was small.
