Mother sat on the bed, in the dim rays of light slanting through the thatched roof, the table next to the bed, placed a bamboo tray, on which was a bowl of incense smoke, 9 bowls, 9 pairs of chopsticks. Mother's back was bent down, her eyes were cloudy as if looking into infinity... That was a photo of Mother Nguyen Thi Thu - a heroic Mother who endured endless pain before the sacrifice of 9 sons, 1 son-in-law and 2 grandchildren.
I was stunned by that photo for a long time, in an exhibition on the subject of Mothers by Colonel Tran Hong - a son of Nghe An, a famous photographer with works capturing Vietnamese Heroic Mothers and General Vo Nguyen Giap. The exhibition was held in 2020. Standing next to me at that time was an American journalist - Jason Miller.
The tall, somewhat fierce-looking man raised his red eyes to look at each authentic photo in the exhibition, carefully read each caption, and listened to the tour guide introduce the circumstances of the creation of the works. Later, Jason wrote a series of articles about the strength of Vietnam published in American newspapers, in which he vividly portrayed the story of heroic Vietnamese mothers.
“Vietnam is a strange country. It seems that everywhere you look you can see heroes. Heroes do not wear splendid clothes, they are just men, women, young or old, most of them look very austere, but when the Fatherland needs them, they are willing to sacrifice everything. Houses, fields, properties… - everything, you know, including themselves and their family members. I asked a heroic mother in the Central countryside: Madam, why did you encourage your children to go to war, knowing that they might face death? The old woman answered me: I love my children like any other mother in the world loves their children. But “Nothing is more precious than independence and freedom”, when the Fatherland is in danger, we are ready to fight, sacrifice our blood and bones…” - a passage from the article that Jason wrote.
Later, via email, Jason told me that he cried when he played the tape of that interview. “So real and touching!” - Jason wrote. It seems that there are no words to describe the sacrifice and passionate patriotism of heroic Vietnamese mothers. They, the most vulnerable women of the rice civilization, are the ones who possess the most resilient strength, create the most solid rear, and contribute to the glorious victory of the long-term resistance wars.
I have met many heroic mothers throughout the Central region. Most of the mothers are at an age that is rare, their memories buried in layers of time and pain that comes with the years, but one thing they have in common is that when they talk about their children, deep in their cloudy eyes, they still shine with longing. Oh, my sons and daughters, just yesterday they were running into the alley, happily catching snails and crabs, whispering every night about the village. My timid son, who liked the girl at the beginning of the village but did not dare to say anything. My foolish daughter, who accepted a comb as a token from a young man from another family, was always shy. My children, some eighteen, some twenty, some just past their teens... one day came home and said to their mother: I am writing an application to join the army, Mom! Mom nodded, tears streaming down her face. Mother's children, wearing green uniforms, blending in with the undulating army going to battle, mother's brown shirt faintly appearing on the dike, waving her hand, watching her children's figures gradually fade away, then disappear... Is there any greater worry, any greater pain? But, go, my child, because the Fatherland needs it! Go, my child, for peace for the country! "Mother, I will return on the day of victory!" - the children turned their heads and waved, their faces shining with faith in the day of total victory, shouting the most painful promise in the world. Mother, I will return on the day of victory... But that day, you are still here, but where are I?
I have taken many pictures of heroic Vietnamese mothers. Mothers sitting in the dark. Mothers sitting on the porch of a deserted house. Mothers leaning on a stick at the end of the lane. Mothers sitting under a banyan tree at the village entrance. Mothers lying down, resting their heads on their children's shirts... Heroic mothers come in many shapes and sizes, but in every shape, mothers appear small yet so great, with so much tolerance, forgiveness, resilience, and indomitability. Thinking about the great mothers of the nation, I remember the heartbreaking verses of the poet, Colonel Le Anh Dung: "Please engrave in the great forest/ Please engrave in the blue sky and white clouds/ Please engrave in the silent sacred place/ Heroic mothers become statues in the hearts of the people" (Transfiguration).
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