(Quang Ngai Newspaper) - 1. Uncle Tien is a veteran, now over seventy years old. He often reminisces and cherishes the memories of his time participating in the resistance war, especially on major holidays of the year. He remembers clearly and enthusiastically recounts every detail.
My father once told me that after the liberation day, my grandmother often bragged to the villagers about her youngest son who had fought bravely upstream. As she spoke, she pointed to Dinh Cuong mountain, her face full of pride. When I was a child, I often sat and listened to the stories and dreamed of one day climbing to the top of the mountain, looking at the blue stars in Uncle Tien's story.
Uncle Tien is quiet and somewhat clumsy in speaking, an honest person, saying whatever comes to mind, but in return he is skillful, he can do all the big and small things in the house. However, his grandparents often complain and urge him because he still hasn't gotten married. He just smiles gently and avoids the matter. Only I know that Uncle Tien has his own secret. There were times when he took me to the commune post office to send letters to a girl named Lan, who is a nurse. The two of them were classmates and both served in the army but in different units. They lost contact since then. After returning from the battlefield, Aunt Lan was sent to study to improve her skills in Hanoi. As a result, Uncle Tien waited in silence until his grandparents got impatient, and tried to matchmake many girls but he refused them all. When Aunt Lan finished studying, the two of them began to date openly. On moonlit nights, they often met on the riverbank to talk. Upstream, Dinh Cuong mountain peak was majestic and towering. Uncle Tien told Aunt Lan that we left our youth there.
2. My village is located along the Ve River, a beautiful and gentle river. My grandfather, a cultural researcher, collected documents, on which it was written that the Ve River is the only image of Quang Ngai province's nature carved on the Du Dinh (one of the 9 Dinhs cast during the Minh Mang period, Nguyen Dynasty). I was surprised and delighted by this. Flipping through old books, I saw that the river associated with my childhood originates from the western mountainous region, meanders to the east and then flows out to the Lo estuary. On the fascinating journey from upstream to the sea, passing through many villages, overcoming the mountains and hills, the river forks several times, branching out into confluences and tributaries.
In the past, every time my mother or grandmother went to the market in town, my uncle Tien or my father would take me by boat. One day I went along. Sitting at the bow of the boat, I was very excited to see both sides of the river. A green slope of bamboo, corn, and sweet potatoes. The gentle alluvial plains, sparkling in the sunlight. The riverbanks with clear water, shady trees. There were sections with landslides, the riverbanks were hollowed out, very dangerous. What I remember most, that rainy season, the dirt road was soggy and muddy, the whole family had to take a boat downstream to visit my grandmother. The memory like the light of a lantern lit on the full moon night still shimmering in my mind is the Long Phung ferry. There was always a ferry there to take passengers across the river. My mother remembered when she was a girl, this riverbank was where my grandmother used to wash her hair. The baskets of sweet potatoes from Bac mountain were also washed clean thanks to the water of the Ve river. Mom still remembers the day her grandparents and her family had to carry their belongings across the river following the evacuation order. In the small houses of the flower village today, there are so many sincere and simple feelings that have been nurtured and protected.
On moonlit nights, I often followed Uncle Tien to cast nets and set traps to catch snakehead fish. Under the golden light, the river surface was hazy, shimmering with the blur of the moon. The shore was covered in late-night fog, and in front of the flashlight, the fog was thick and cold. Sometimes I thought the boat was full of fog. When going upstream, the boat passed under the bridge on the Ve River, Uncle Tien thoughtfully mentioned the four Nghia Hiep soldiers who sacrificed their lives bravely. I still remember the names of those heroes. He said that it was the patriotism of those soldiers that fueled the spirit in the hearts of many young people. Before finishing high school, Uncle Tien insisted on joining the army. Of course, no one in the family forbade it, except for his grandmother. Because he was the youngest child, the most pampered and loved. She said:
- Wait for me to come back before you go!
Uncle Tien responded but his voice was full of humor:
- By then the enemy will be gone and there will be nothing left to fight, Mom!
My brother in my grandmother's words was my second uncle, named Dung, a scout, stationed in the southern battlefield. Occasionally, my second uncle would send letters home, and the whole family would gather to read them. My father was the one who read the letters to the whole family. My father had a talent for literature, so through his short letters he could still grasp the situation of the war, as well as the hardships that the soldiers went through.
Then Uncle Tien got his wish. His unit operated mainly on Dinh Cuong mountain, which was reflected in the Ve river all year round.
3. The river in front of the house is silted up every year, creating a vast sandbank. Every afternoon when school was over, we kids would herd the cows out to the bank and split into groups to play soccer. The grass on the bank grew quickly and was lush green. The alluvial soil was smooth, so the villagers took advantage of the opportunity to grow all kinds of crops, only letting the land rest during the flood season. Uncle Tien also broke a large area, sometimes he planted peanuts, sometimes he sowed water spinach seeds, and there were also trellises of squash and gourds laden with fruit. Aunt Lan harvested the crop and called some traders to take it to the wholesale market to sell.
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| MH: VO VAN |
The memories of the past always make Uncle Tien feel nostalgic. He kept the war diary of his comrades as a sacred keepsake. I have read it many times to understand more about the events that took place, especially the brave spirit of the soldiers of Brigade 52.
On... month... year 1974, at dawn, enemy artillery rained bullets down on the battlefield. Linh, a radio operator in the same bunker, raised his binoculars to observe. I grabbed the binoculars from Linh's hand. A column of tanks arranged in a Z-shape pointed their cannons straight at Dinh Cuong mountain. Another group of A-37 aircraft rushed in, roaring, clusters of bombs raining down, creating black and gray smoke rising high into the sky... As the night approached, the enemy artillery gradually stopped. I thought to myself that we haven't captured Dinh Cuong yet, the enemy will continue to fight!
Date... month... year 1974, only 8am, A-37 aircraft were flying around again. Then came all kinds of artillery. Around 3pm, a sudden downpour came. The acrid smell of bomb smoke mixed with the smell of blood, the pungent smell of soil and rocks that had just been dug up by the bombs and artillery created a very thick and unpleasant atmosphere. I crawled out of the bunker, followed the hillside up. Binh, the squad leader, saw me and raised his hand to signal: "More than half of the squad has been sacrificed and wounded, brother. They are so scared!"
Night fell. Another night of extreme heaviness, squeezing the key point. Today, who knows how many more comrades will suffer casualties. What game will the enemy play tomorrow? Will there be another tomorrow?
4. One afternoon, sitting by the river, looking up at Dinh Cuong mountain with floating clouds. I thought a lot about the sparkling stars on the mountain top. Uncle Tien and his comrades are stars. Like the stars in the universe, humans are born from nature, return to nature, become the sacred spirit of the mountains and rivers, the sacred soul of the nation, and have eternal vitality. They are the heroes who sacrificed for the country.
At the end of March, my hometown was full of sunshine and wind. The sunshine was like honey pouring gold down on every green garden. The wind was unrestrained, freely roaming all over the fields and fields. The weather in the Central region is very typical, especially at the change of seasons, both hot and uncomfortable but also gentle and tolerant, making those who are far away miss it and return in the love of memories. Truly, in the concept of most of us, there is no place more beautiful and peaceful than the place where we were born and raised. From here, I have understood more about the love of the homeland of my ancestors, including my uncle Tien. Until now, everything about the homeland, what he experienced throughout his youth always makes him nostalgic and moved.
Last year, the old unit organized a trip to visit the old battlefield. He was very happy to meet his comrades again. He said that everyone was moved and anxiously waiting for the day to return to the place where they lived and fought about 50 years ago. Despite their advanced age, the veterans were still cheerful and smiling throughout the long journey. They recalled each battle and feat of arms. They also remembered the places they knew by heart: Gia Vuc, Re River, Truong Le. They bowed their heads and burned incense before the large rock where the soldiers who died had recently been found and brought back to the cemetery in their hometown.
Standing in the village looking up at the place where the battles took place, I saw the immense green of the mountains and forests, of the acacia forests, of the cashew gardens in harvest time. Uncle Tien said that was the green of hope, the green of prosperity.
CEILING PAINT
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Source: https://baoquangngai.vn/van-hoa/van-hoc/202503/truyen-ngan-nhung-ngoi-sao-tren-nui-7fe1639/
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