Joy of Liberation Day

The tea shop of old lady Bau also opened late. Lien, her daughter, quickly set up the stall, handed Vu a chair, and without anyone asking, explained: "Today the weather has changed, the old wound has relapsed, my mother has to stay home." That's right! In this capricious weather, even young and healthy people get sick, let alone. Vu poured himself a cup of hot tea, sipped it and waited for the old man to finish his shipment. When he opened his backpack to take out his notebook, the mother-of-pearl inlaid wooden box fell out. Vu held the gift the old wounded soldier had given him that afternoon, his heart still full of emotions.

Illustration: PV

- It's beautiful! Where did you buy that handicraft? Show me where.

- It was given to me. It looks so meticulous and was made by the hands of an old war invalid who lost one side. He is an artisan from a famous craft village.

Vu sat with his back against the shabby wall behind him, wearing headphones to record the interview tape for the special issue commemorating the liberation of the South and the reunification of the country. A hearty laugh rang out, Mr. Hung pulled out a rattan chair and invited the guest to sit. Making a new pot of tea, he asked Vu why he came? "I see you are not a customer." Taking a sip of tea, his eyes looked far away, memories flashing back clearly. It was as if enemy planes were hovering in the sky in front of him.

- You asked about the Central Highlands campaign? You asked me how old I was when I joined the army? 17 years old. At that time, there were many people younger than me. We came from all over the countryside, met each other on many fierce battlefields. Each of us had our own stories, but our eyes sparkled the same when we thought about tomorrow's total victory.

- Have you ever wondered how the people who fought with you in the Central Highlands campaign that year are living now?

- Many of them remained forever on the battlefield. Those who were lucky enough to return continued to study and work like me. Believe it or not, I see them every day in my memory.

Memories brought him back to the days when he had just joined the army. At that time, he was trained at the 299th Regiment, the Engineering Command. In 1974, he was transferred to the 299th Engineering Brigade of the 1st Corps. In early January 1975, due to the urgent requirements of the situation, his unit temporarily left the 1st Corps and marched south to the B3 Central Highlands Battlefield to participate in the historic Central Highlands campaign. He still remembers clearly the night he crossed Ferry 10, the enemy bombed heavily. Many of his comrades died that night, never having the chance to see the national flag flying on the day of reunification.

- We kept marching tirelessly at night, trying to reach Buon Ma Thuot. Near dawn, the whole unit hid in long tunnels, 30-40cm deep, to avoid flares. The unit was assigned the task of clearing the road, so they divided into small groups to move deeper inside, close to the target, and wait for orders to clear the road.

- That night must have been very long, huh?

- Yes! Before the attack, the whole forest was quiet and still. Until 2:03 a.m. on March 10, 1975, the Central Highlands Campaign Command issued the order to open fire and attack Buon Ma Thuot town. The whole forest shook. Groups of tanks were waiting, heroically knocking down the sawed-off trees, revealing the road for trucks carrying weapons and ammunition to easily attack the Mai Hac De General Warehouse base. At the same time, from all directions, our army attacked the town airport; attacked the administrative area, the logistics area, the Treasury Department... By 10:00 a.m. on March 11, 1975, our army had completely controlled the town.

- So you were also injured in this last battle?

- That was not the last battle.

- My unit continued to pursue the enemy along Highway 14, and when they reached Chon Thanh, they followed Highway 13 to liberate Saigon. I was wounded in the battle at Dong Du base in Cu Chi, which was considered the "steel gate" guarding the northwest of Saigon.

The ringing of the phone brought him back to reality. "It's the customer, they're urging us to deliver the order on time," he said as he leisurely poured tea for Vu. His production facility is located in the local mother-of-pearl inlay craft village. Vu took a tour, fascinated by the elaborate, sophisticated mother-of-pearl inlay products. He raised his camera to capture the moment when his father's no longer intact hands were meticulously carving each detail. After the war, he returned to his hometown to continue and preserve the value of the traditional craft village with all his heart.

***

After finishing the shipment, Mr. Bao returned to the old place and showed Vu and Lien the bag of sugarcane, saying: "The owner gave it to me". Vu asked:

- How many rides have you done today?

- Enough to eat. Why are you still here at this hour? Aren't you going to play soccer?

- I came because I wanted to ask permission to write about you.

- Write about me? What does this old man have to write about?

- I want to hear you tell me about the battle at Trang Bom in the historic Ho Chi Minh campaign.

- I've told you many times already. Just for fun, I won't be in the newspaper. When there's an enemy, everyone takes up arms. So many of my comrades don't even have the chance to mention their names.

He laid down on the bed and hummed. Reaching into his faded army uniform, he pulled out a stack of wages from a long day, counting and smoothing each note. He gave all this money to his wife for her to spend at home. In this time of devaluation and hundreds of expenses, he and his wife had no salary, so it was even harder. None of his children were well-off, and he did not want to depend on others. As long as he had health, he would work. In the past, when bombs and bullets fell, it was so hard, so dangerous, so much more so, so could he win. The war for food and clothing in peacetime could not defeat him. Even though his old wound sometimes ached for days, it was no big deal. Heaven and people loved him, if he worked hard, he would not be afraid of hunger. If he waited a little longer and no one hired him, he would return home. His small house was in the suburbs, just across that bridge. After bathing, eating, and sleeping soundly, he got up at midnight to make a living at the wholesale market. As if suddenly remembering something, he turned to Vu and said:

- I forgot to tell you, the other day while I was sleeping, I suddenly received a call from an unknown number. I thought the scammers were going to scold me, but it turned out to be an old comrade. I don't know how my friend found my number. He was in the same Battalion 8, Infantry Regiment 266. The day the battalion coordinated with tanks to approach the target in Bau Ca, breaking through the enemy's resistance, he was hit by a bullet and thought he wouldn't survive. But he was still fine. Later, he became a village teacher and married a talented and skillful wife. The children are all grown up. Now he stays at home, surrounded by gardens and trees.

- Since liberation, have you not had any team meetings?

- Well, each person is in a different place. At that time, there was no means of communication. Only recently have we found a way to contact each other, some are still alive, some are gone, only a few are left. That said, we still remember each other in our hearts. When we meet again, we will feel as close as the time we shared dry food, sips of water, gave each other life, shielded each other from bullets and arrows.

- This year is the 50th anniversary of the liberation of the South, let's meet.

- I'm thinking about it. My friends and I are discussing whether we should take a trip to Ho Chi Minh City to watch the parade at Thong Nhat Hall. To relive a part of the atmosphere of Liberation Day. It's been 50 years, that's fast. 50 years from now, I'm sure none of us will be around.

The sky had already turned dark. Mr. Bao packed up his hammock and prepared to cross the bridge to go home to dinner, where his wife was waiting. Vu, as if suddenly remembering something, turned back to ask Lien:

- Why did you ask where to buy this mother-of-pearl jewelry box?

- Oh! I was going to buy it for my mother. She doesn't have any expensive jewelry. She has a comb made from a B-52 plane wreckage and an old silver bracelet, but they're wrapped so carefully in a handkerchief, it's a pity.

Vu smiled as he looked at the sparkling mother-of-pearl pieces, probably as beautiful as the stars in the Central Highlands forest that Mr. Hung had told him about. He gave this gift to a female military doctor during the war. Lien held the gift in her hand, imagining her mother’s happy eyes and couldn’t help but feel sad. The street lights were already on, sparkling…

Source: https://baophuyen.vn/tin-noi-bat/202504/niem-vui-ngay-giai-phong-adb2385/