The April 30, 1975 and The Young DaLat Military Officer at The 25th Hour - Nguyen Van Thanh

(VietNam War): The April 30, 1975 and The Young DaLat Military Officer at The 25th Hour
by Nguyen Van Thanh

* 15th Airborne Battalion of Army of the Republic of Vietnam and the young DaLat military officers - Nguyen Van Thanh 

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After dropping the gun, and getting away from my unknown paratroopers, who, I loved, were heroic and loyal, I was in grief and sorrow. My life began to change. My life did not end with a glorious death like what I once wished when I was sitting at school, but it was ended with a long series of endless pain, which was not knowing how long.

Now, I was a person with no home, no family, no wife and children, no lover. And most of all, I had No country. I was a young military officer, until now; 9 days and a few hours. I graduated from the Vietnam National Military Academy, and I was at the hour of twenty-fifth of the war; just ended. After the bloody battle, what remained on my body; like dead body, was nothing worth. All was a huge Zero. Only the Ring left on my finger.

If my soldiers did not submit, how could I submit? I would rather have my head fall, blood spilled. I would definitely not betray their respect. Whether I could do anything great or not, I must be a DaLat Officer, worthy of their wish. The surrendered order was a game played by the cowards, who were greedy for fame, for profit, for life, and afraid of death. It was the game of dishonest politicians.

I did not know how long I was walking. I felt tired, thirst and exhausted, and I sat down on the right side of a major road. I did not know what this road was called. People and cars were busy as if they wanted to take something after the crisis of my country.

 

It was the afternoon of the April 30, 1975. People was racing each other. To race to get what they wanted, and took it home. The green tapes; red tapes flooded the place and pretended to be happy, as if they had done something great for the nation. Around me was a garbage dump. It was a huge dump. Civilian clothes; full of colors, the uniforms of Army of the Republic of Vietnam soldiers, messy paper, faded leaves, scrap metal, broken bottles from unexpected collisions deposied all ever the place ... And especially, there were the sparkling Red and Blue Snakes. Bulky pack-bikes of young, goofy faces, carrying monstrous gadgets, which I didn't expect; made this land a garbage dump on the body of the Vietnamese mothers.

Looking at myself, I was a trash in the new Vietnam, to which I did not belong. I had on an old, baggy shirt with blue and white colors; not pleasing to the eye of people, and the short, tight pants of a 15- or 16-year-old boy. Looking at the flat Japanese sandals I was wearing, my heart retracted.

At an intersection, on the right side of the road, along a wall there were many people gathered. Perhaps they were people fleeing the enemy from all over the country; avoided the Communist wave; came here to take refuge after the horror. I came to this wave of people, and leaned my back against the wall. My hands cupped my head, and put it on my dirty knees.

An old man about 70 years old came to my side, brought me back to reality, he politely asked:
- Where are you come from? Why do you stay here?

I looked up at him, and answered bitterly, disappointedly:
- Yes. I came from the Center region.
- Are you a Republican soldier? 

I looked at him and didn't answer. He expressed sympathy, said:
- I have 2 older sons. The older one was a Captain of the Marines, and the younger was a Ranger lieutenant. He sat close to me, and leaned his back against the wall, next to me. Spoke in pain, choking;
- I don't know where are they now?

I looked into the poor father's red eyes. He cried. He cried wordlessly. The tears of the sincere father was so lovely. Perhaps my mother living in my hometown was in the same situation as this old man. I sighed and said:
- Please don't grieve. Then slowly you would find your sons.

I sighed. A breath for the old man, for my two heroic officers, was also a breath for myself. I looked up across the street, and then into the far distance. I did not know where that was. The father raised his right hand, and quickly wiped away the tears; Like he did not want anyone to see it. He whispered in my ear:
- Are you a DaLat officer?

Suddenly, I jumped. Looking at the old man that my heart was indescribable. I raised my left hand, and looked at the ring left over from the fight. I said:
- How do you know that I was a DaLat officer? He said sympathetically:
- My oldest child attended the 23 course in DaLat.

Heaven and earth being immense, the old man and I became two people with the same fate, a painful fate. While we were talking together, a Red Cross car slowed down and stopped by the side of the road. Red Cross staff pulled out a lot of boxes from the truck. And then the refugees gathered around the car.
The old man suddenly stood up, walked towards the Red Cross, and said to me:
- "Let me see what happens." After a while he came to my side and said:
- "Red Cross staffs were distributing food and drinks. Are you going with me?"

As he walked towards the car, he turned around and said:
- Go. Go. Do you want to go?
I shook my head and whispered:
- No. Sorry.

Fifteen minutes later, he returned with three bags of dried rice and some water in hand. With joy he said:
- "Go back there. People would give dried rice and drinking water. Go. Go."
I looked at the old man and shook my head.
- No. Thank you.

The old man expressed disappointment at a stubborn, stiff-necked young man. He said:
- What's wrong?
So he hurried toward the Red Cross once more.

As the old man ran towards the Red Cross, a little girl stood against the wall; about four or five meters next to me, slowly walked over to me and sat down next to me. I did not bother paying attention. She was about 18 or 19 years old. Her skin was pink and white and her eyes were bright and full of anxiety, sad and scared. She inched closer until she touched me. I did not even care.

Two minutes later, another girl was standing on the left 3 or 4 meters away from me, perhaps listening to the story of me and the old man; stepped to me. And, again, she sat down next to me. So in the gloomy afternoon of a Saigon capital; disbanded; there was a great picture "A young defeated soldier sitting in the middle with the back against the wall, and next to him, there were two girls in their twenties." I rolled my eyes at the two girls. They glanced at me. We did not say a word to each other. And just like that we naturally sat shoulder to shoulder; even if the world went crazy and tearful.

The old man returned, smiling brightly, with a bag of dried rice in his hand. He walked up to me and said:
- Here it is. It is yours.
I looked at him, and gently shook my head. He said with loving surprise; a love for a young man; in his son's situation:
- "Take it. Eat for being healthy and return to your family.
I looked at him implicitly thanking him, and remained silent. My eyes looked into the far distance.
 
Now, It was the time for the old man to look at the two girls beside me in surprise. He pushed a bag of dried rice into a little girl's hand, did not speak, but acted like:
- "Take it. All three of you eat together."
The little girl took the bag of dried rice from the old man's hand, with a grateful look in her eyes.

The two girls begged for water and poured it into a bag of dried rice. So the 3 of us had a magic meal. We only had 1 small plastic spoon. I put a spoonful of dried rice into my mouth, but my heart felt like crying. But how could I cry? I had no more tears to cry. I sent the spoon to one girl, and then the spoon went to the next girl.
 
The small spoon came to my hand. I held the spoon, and it felt like the spoon weighed a thousand pounds. I put the spoon in the bag of dried rice. I hesitated, hesitated, then passed it to the girl on the other side with a heavy heart of concern. Both of them were surprised, but did not speak. They looked at each other and then looked at me as if begging, encouraging. I thrusted the spoon into their hands.
 
The fairy and frugal meal was also finished. I walked to the other side of the road. I rummaged through the trash at an old tree stump and found a tattered blanket. The blanket was small measuring 1 meter, and 1 and a half meters.

The three of us came together by accident because of war. We never said hello to each other when we met. We shared a bag of dried rice together.
 
That night, the April 30, 1975, the three of us slept together on a small blanket, on the dirt floor, next to the wall of a certain hospital which name I did not know. I slept in the middle, the two girls were slept on either side. We would like to say thank to God because there was a pure and pure love between the three of us that God had bestowed upon mankind. That was human love. The love between people and people was during turmoil situation. And this was also a good memory; unforgettable in human life.

The next morning, May 1, 1975, I watched the two girls fold the blanket together, and nodded. I walked over to say goodbye to the old man, and walked away.
And then we parted involuntarily, without saying goodbye. Until now, I have not had the opportunity to meet those two cute girls again.
 
I don't know now, 2022, are you two girls healthy or not? How are your families? Do you still stay in VietNam, or on over the world? I just hope you two live in a happy family.
 
I step forward, but I did not know where I was going. How to go South to find General Nguyen Khoa Nam, while I had not any penny in my pocket.

Remembering the 8 week training period for the 31st course cadets. It was hard. Having put in effort to train juniors, I understood the merits of the 25th course spent on us; course 28.

Training the 31st course cadets would to give them the opportunity to become a worthy officer, and useful to the nation in the future. Doing so was not an easy thing. As much as course 31st cadets ran, I ran as much. They practiced tirelessly, then I did the same. They ran like crazy, I was just as dumb as they were. Did they understand that?

It did not matter if they understand, or did not understand. The most important was; I must fulfill my duties as a Student Officer Officer by the best way that I could. The soul and body of the freshman course 31 cadets were as crushed as soy sauce. But they were  compensated with plenty of rice, the love and responsibility that we, the 28th, 29th and 30th courses, had for them. As for me, only a restaurant man owner relayed. Every time I visited his restaurant, I paid a lot of money. That's all the amount of money I saved in half a year for visiting my family. All my money was gone.
 
What could I do, now? How could I go for seeing General Nguyen Khoa Nam. It's a big problem.

I was daydreaming about the past and the future and I was unable to find the answer, my older cadet appeared, with the figure of a defeated soldier. It was the senior Thuy, course 27. I could not remember the last name of  Thuy.
 
At that time, in 1974, I and Thuy were in company C at the Vietnamese National Military Academy. One day, I walked down the corridor on the first floor on the way back to the barracks from the classroom, two heads hanged out of the door, looked at me and said kindly:
- Mr. Thanh. Come in.
I was surprised, and didn't know what to do. What's my fault? What did these two seniors of the 27th class want to punish me for? I slowly approached the door of their room, and stood respectfully in greeting. I said:
- Hello, seniors. I raised my right hand to salute in the proper manners.
Thuy laughed, reached out and pulled me in while I didn't know what was wrong:
- OK. No need.
Looking at them without rest in my heart, I said:
- Elders, what's wrong with me?
- Nothing wrong, Thuy said so, and continued:
- We're about to graduate. We studied Judo. Could you please teach us some Binh Dinh martial arts so that we could have chance to survive in close fighting?
I breathed a sigh of relief. So that's like. I looked at them with sincerity. I asked:
- How did you know I knew Binh Dinh martial arts?
- The elder next to Thuy said:
- "We've hearded of such loud gossip. Can you help us."
I replied without thinking:
- "OK. I would. No problem."
So we had an unforgettable meeting at our military academy.

And now, on the chaotic streets of Saigon, I met again the person whom I loved and cherished; at the 25th hour of the battle. Thuy moved quickly towards me, and I seemed walking quickly towards him as well.

We were face-to-face, not like at the Vietnamese National Military Academy, or at some bloody battlefield we'd ever dreamed of. We met each other again in this earth Hell. Thuy's eyes were red, as if he wanted to cry. My condition was the same. Unexpectedly, we had to go through such this cruel situation. We only talked to each other with our eyes, not with words. Our eyes were filled with a thousand words.

For a while, Thuy asked:
- "What do you want to do now?"
I shaken my head slightly, indicating that I didn't know what to do. Thuy expressed cordiality:
- "Do you want to go with me to my hometown?
I asked in surprise:
- Where was your hometown?
- Ha Tien.
 
After a moment of hesitation, I said:
- Probably not, chief.
He patiently, encouraged:
- "Go to my hometown and we can find a better way for our lives later."
- "Sorry. I have no decision at this moment. Thank you senior."
Perhaps Thuy knew that he could not advise me, he expressed his kindness:
- "Do you have any money in your pocket?"

This question let me know that I was in the current reality, I was warm and fuzzy:
- Uhh. Uhh...
He pulled a sizable stack of money from his pocket, and handed it to me:
- "Here. Take it."
Startled, I took a half step back. He continued:
- "Take it."
I did not have any penny in my pocket, but out of pride, I refused:
- "You keep this money for returning to your family."
 
He feigned displeasure, saying as ordered by a senior cadet at the Vietnamese National Military Academy:
- "Take it. Take it."
I looked at him with gratitude. I reached over to the stack of money, and used my fingers to cut off a small portion. He pushed the stack of money towards me. So we argued with each other about the stack of money. He wanted me to take all the money, but I did not want to take it all. In the end he gave up, and I took part of the money I wanted. After that, our love and fate floated along the stream of unlucky lives; of a strangeous land.

The money receiving from Thuy was a miracle for me, because it was the necessary means of transport that I needed to use to go to Can Tho.
At that time, on the busy road up and down, people passed, people came back. All kinds of cars also raced to roll. They did not follow the traffic rules. Whoever could get ahead, get ahead. They crossed the roads back and forth; regardless of life and death for themselves, as well as for others. What It was a lawless and godless society. I did not know who to ask the way to go to Can Tho because everyone was in a hurry. I dared to stop a woman and asked while she was walking:
- "Dear madam. How to go to Can Tho?"
As she left, she replied:
- "Go to the Western bus station."

She kept walking no matter what I asked for. And she did not need to know who I was being so stupid.
I silently said myself: "Where is the Western bus station? How do I get there?"
I continued to walk with the crowd, but I didn't know where they were going. I kept following them and lurched beside a 14- or 15-year-old girl, started a conversation:
- "I want to go to the Western bus station, but I don't know how. Can you show me?"
As she walked, the girl replied:
- "You've gone the wrong way. You turned around, and turned left."
I went against the path I was on, and turned left. I was a fool, both stupid and blind. Following the instructions of a few people, I went to An Dong market. The place in front of me was An Dong market. Passing over An Dong market, I continued walking, but I was not sure of the right path.

 I did not remember how long I spent walking and finding my way to the Western bus station. When I got there, the sun was already low.
 
The car left the Western bus station with a heavy, tired feeling. I sat in the back with my head down like a dead man; dead but not buried yet. There were about 10 people in the car. Their faces were panicked and worried, exchanging war news. A woman about 50 years old in front of me, angered, shouted:
- "Fuck them. They took our Southern country. We would die soon, people!"
- "The rich, the gold shops, ..... would be suffering.
- No need to be rich, the Viet Cong would make us be crazy.
- Get ready to work hard free. Prepare your health to go to work as the unpaid hard working labors ....

They talked with each other. Anger discussion inside the car like they would about to sink into a hell on earth. I sometimes looked at them and my heart was full of melancholy and confusion. Wondering myself:
- "How is Can Tho now? Has anything bad happened?" But I dared not to ask anyone.

The peaceful people were now afraid. They talked to each other a lot. Together they were angry, cursing:
- "Fuck you. Duong Van Minh. You are a dirty beggar. You are a traitor."
- "This son of a bitch ran away to France for food and shelter. Why did he suddenly become President? Why did not he die yet?"

The sounds of moaning, anxiety, cursing, fear like groaning, ... suddenly stopped when the car just passed over a small bridge, and stopped. The driver got out of the car, and loudly said:
- "Get out of the car, folks. Could not go on. The front was blocked."

I was the first to get out of the car. I glanced around. And in front of me I could read:
- "My Tho bus station."
So I was standing at My Tho bus station. I was worry for myself:
- "What to do now?"

The sun was setting down here, although the light was still lingering. Some of the shops started to light up. I approached an outcrop, and sat down. My stomach was as hungry as a rake, my mouth was as dry as a dry field where the 1st platoon of the 151st Airborne Company was stationed a few days ago.
 
The voice of a woman came to me. I looked up and my eyes met those of the woman sitting across from me in the car and a girl in her twenties beside her.

The woman sat down next to me and asked:
- "Where are you come from?, and where do you want to go?"
I politely replied:
- I was from the Central region, Binh Dinh.
 
I looked around at My Tho bus station. This was a small bus station, located on the left side of the road going south. I looked at her and smiled to let it go.

She told her niece buying some food and water, and turned to me and asked:
- "What have you eaten?"
I didn't answer and just shook my head slightly. She looked at me like she sympathized with my difficulty. Somehow she wanted to be friends with me while the cataclysm that was pouring on her head.
 
The little girl walked back with 3 loaves of meatloaf and iced tea on her hands. She distributed each person a loaf. I did not accept a loaf of bread with full of love she had for me. She treated me as
her son who was far away from her. I just shook my head while her hand was still holding the loaf in front of me. Both of them were surprised at my refusal by their kindness.

Now, the girl started talking since she met me:
- "Try to eat something. What else is there. Don't worry too much."

After a few simple questions, I got up and followed the two Westerners.

I followed them to the other side of the road, and along a river I didn't know the name of. About 70 or 100 meters, they turned left and took me into a Buddhist Temple. I kept silently following them like a man who lost soul. She breathed a sigh of relief and put her simple suitcase down on a small cemented ground, saying:
- "Done. We relax and sleep here tonight."
She looked at me for my reaction. I looked at her in thanks.

The flickering candle was lit by the girl. She looked at me with sympathetic concern. She came to me and offered me a loaf of bread, saying:
- "Try to eat. Eat as much as possible. Stay healthy for returning to your family.

For some reason, my feeling was this girl already knew a little bit about me, even though she and I just met. I reached out my hand to receive a loaf of bread, like saying thanks to the people of the South.

A young woman about 30 years old has just arrived, holding a baby boy 2 or 3 years old. As she sat down next to us, she said:
- "Give me chance to stay here with you."

Then she gave something to the baby to eat, and did not bother to say anything more. My stomach was empty, but my mouth did not want to eat. I looked at the young woman and said:
- "The loaf is too big. I can not eat it all. Can you help me eat a portion, please?"

The young woman looked at me; a young stranger; in surprise and cheerfully said:
- "This loaf is not big. Yes. OK."

So I cut the loaf in two. I took a small portion and gave the rest to her. All three women were amazed, and all said:
- Uh. Why so?

I looked at each one of them, and said:
- "I can not eat it all."

Sighs were poured out from each peaceful, kindly and naive people. The young woman tried to put her baby to sleep when the 50-year-old aunt approached me and asked softly:
- "Are you a Republican soldier?"

Again, I jumped in surprising, and wondered myself:
- "How did this common woman guess that I was a Republican soldier, and asked so directly?"

I politely replied to her concern:
- "Yes. I'm a Republican soldier."
She continued with reverence:
- "You're a military officer in Da Lat, aren't you?" I went from one amazement to another. I asked:
- "How do you know I'm a Da Lat military officer?" She looked at me, full of admiration and concern:
- "I did not know."
She turned her eyes to her niece, and said firmly:
"She knew."
The girl looked at me, then pointed to my left hand, she said with admiration:
"The ring on your finger."
I looked at her and my heart was full of anxiety:
- Yes. Right.

The aunt looked at me worriedly.
"Where are you going?" I looked at her without feeling well, and replied:
- "I want to go to Can Tho."
She continued as if I was as her son who was far away from home:
- "What are you going to Can Tho for? Your hometown is in Central area. Why don't you go back to find your family?"

She kept asking without my answer. I lowered my head and whispered:
- "I want to see General Nguyen Khoa Nam."
She startled, and whispered in my ear:
- " What for? Why do you look for General Nguyen Khoa Nam?"

The young woman sitting next to her was silent for a long time, but she suddenly spoke up when she heard us talking about General Nguyen Khoa Nam:
"General Nguyen Khoa Nam had committed suicide."

I felt like I fell from the sky. This news made my heart chilling. It's over. It's over. I calmly and politely asked her:

- "Where did you hear this news from?"
The young woman looked at me and respectfully said:
- "Yes, I ran out of the family military camp of the 4th Army Corps in Can Tho." I asked:
- "When did General Nguyen Khoa Nam commit suicide?" She replied in pain:
- "Yes. This morning."
That meant General Nguyen Khoa Nam died on the morning of May 1, 1975. I asked:
- "Where's your husband? Why are you carrying your son without him?"
- "Yes. My husband gets lost. Now I don't know where he is." The young woman turned and coaxed the child to sleep.

The aunt said to me as advice:
- "Do you have any money on you?" I was surprised for her private question, but I answered:

- "Yes. I still had some." But I did not say how much I had left. She smiled incredulously, and took out from her pocket, brought a large pile of 500-dong, and put in front of me, and said:

- "I sold goods at An Dong market. Viet Cong took our country over, I had to bring my money and my niece home." She pointed to her niece, and continued:

- "She's in her 2nd year of Van Khoa, but the situation was not good. I had to take her home. Everything would be take care of, later." She put the money in my hand, said:

- "I give it to you. I've got plenty left." She reached into the other walets and pounded them as if she had more money than she wanted to give me.

Because of narcissism, I mumbled without answering. The niece continued to her aunt:

- "Take it. You would need money to go home."

It's unfortunate for me. Day ago, I was the one advising my soldiers. Now, I was advised by these gentle people. For their kindness, I reached out and picked a small amount of money from her hand. The aunt put the whole pile of money into my hand, said:

- "Take it all. I have a lot left. Don't worry. If we do not spend it all, this money will be wasted in a few days. It will turn into junk. Take it all." I did not want to take it all, and only received a few from her hand.

Not advising this stubborn young man, she suddenly changed her voice:

- "You could follow us to my niece's hometown. Her father lived in the rice field, about 5 or 7 kilometers from My Tho. I would marry her to you. Would you OK?"

It's a strange thing indeed. She took me from one surprise to another. I looked at her niece. The girl gaze flickered over to me quickly, but I could feel her cheeks turning red in the dim light of the dying candle. I hadn't answered her aunt's question, the girl said sharply:

- "Do you go with us? Come with me?"
I secretly admired their love, but how could I follow them. General Nguyen Khoa Nam was the man I needed and had to meet, for this trip. It's not possible because of the woman's source that I gave up. I said softly for not to upset them:

- "No. Thank you for your love. I could not go with you and your niece. I had not decided anything yet." I whispered in the girl's ear:

- "Thanks. I could not go with you."

That night, the night of May 1, 1975, the three of us did not sleep. The aunt and her niece advised me forever, but it didn't work...
I thought that if I kept the ring on my hand, it would be difficult for me to pass through the guerilla's barricades on the way to Can Tho. So I got up and went to the front of the Buddhist temple. There were some flower pots here. I suddenly had the thought of burying the ring here to avoid unnecessary troubles. I immediately dug a small hole next to the flower tree, and I put the ring, that I considered my life, in the flower pot and filled it with soil.

The next morning, May 2, 1975, news of General Nguyen Khoa Nam's suicide spread throughout My Tho bus station. That's all over. That was really over. And my life was covered with a dark veil from here.

Now, the ring was buried 47 years ago. I Do not know flower pots that I buried the ring at the temple intact or not? Has there been a change? And who was fortunate to see this precious ring. I would like to give it to someone who has a predestined relationship, as a memory of a war time. A ring clearly written: "TRƯƠNG VO BI QUOC GIA VIET NAM - Nguyễn Văn Thành - 28 - (71-75)".

Thanks to the Buddhist temple where once a young officer Da Lat slept over.

I also thank the love of the aunt and her niece, whose names I can't remember. May the two of you have happy lives, whether you are still in your hometown or drifting anywhere.

 

Dear Airborne Troop brothers of the 1st Platoon, 151st Company;

 I fulfilled what I told you fervently in parting that year. I did the best I could. I used up all my abilities. I did at all my manpower. Now, you have become grandfathers. Hoping the God takes care of you and your family. Good luck and happy.

 **********************

Every March and April every year, I had being an uneasy feeling. My heart had been pierced, aches even though my blood pressure is currently 117/79. That would be the ideal blood pressure for a healthy person. My stomach is rumbles.
Especially this year, March, and April 2022. After enjoying the food and drink that my wife offered, I entered my room, and closed the door. My wife looked at me with pity:
- "Stop it. That suffering has been happened a long time ago. We are OK, now. You no need to torture yourself anymore."
I know. No one is stupid to torture themselves. I'm still healthy. I keep going in and out, languidly like the one who is lost soul. I searched and asked God, but I still couldn't find a better way to cure the old pain. Fourty seven years passed, but the wound that could not find a cure, even though my body is still intact?

***** END *****