17 Years in Re-education Camps
17 Years in Re-education Camps
Of the Communists of Vietnam
Part 1
I was staying
Chapt. 1 - First Warning, the strategic evacuation
Before April 30th, 1975, news about the loss of some provinces in Central Vietnam made me so worry. Being an intelligence officer of South Vietnamese Government, what would happen for me when the Communists took over Saigon? I heard and saw about the mass killing in Hue when the Communists came to that city of Central Vietnam in Mau Than New Year, 1968 (the year of the monkey). The Communists tied people together by barbed wire and buried them alive; the Communists forced people to dig their own graves and shot them in there.... The evacuations of hundred of thousands' people from many cities in Central Vietnam proved that the people were afraid of the Communists. The Communists of Vietnam (VC) caused consternation to everyone in my country even innocent people. Under the revolution label, VC found the war to conquer South Vietnam; they established the National Liberation Front (NLF) and began the war against the government of the Republic of Vietnam that they called pseudo-government (fake government or puppet administration) of South Vietnam.
When the US Armed Forces came into South Vietnam, the VC changed the Vietnam War to become the war to fight against the so-called "American Empire". They identified American with French; they put that war and the war against French Colonialists in a same category. Actually, the Communists had despoiled the credit of the Vietnamese people from the war against French, and then they conquered North Vietnam to become a Communism country. Vietnam was dividing to two countries by the Geneva Agreement: North Vietnam Communism and South Vietnam Democracy. The two countries would develop separately waiting for a negotiation to reunify. The political system of the country would depend on the people in the whole country in a universal suffrage under the control of an international organization. I didn't want to mention here about the history of my country because there were many books written about those, but some details linked with the reason of my staying while hundred of thousands' people evacuated from my country.
My father had joined the League for the Independence of Vietnam (called Viet Minh), an association that had been founded by the Communists to reunite the people to fight against French Colonialists. He was killed in that war in 1952 before the Geneva Agreement, so I was a son of a family having a hero who died in the war, a "martyr" as the Communists called it. I did not know anything about my father for he died when I was only seven, and he left the family into a secret zone when I was two. I heard that he was a financial cadre of guerilla men. On their way of mission, he and his friend were ambushed and were killed after they shot two soldiers of the foreign legion and a French soldier. I used to be proud of my father. I had three cousins who regrouped to North Vietnam in 1954, and I heard that they used to study in the Socialism countries. My uncle, my father's elder brother, was also a Communist; he had been kept in Con Non Prison from 1956 to 1962. After released, he continued to work for the VC and died in 1970; he was a martyr as well! With such a family, sometimes I simply thought that the VC would not "punish" me once they came into Saigon.
On the other hand, I usually heard that the Communists didn't care about family, about religion, about country; they worshiped their Communists Party only! In that dilemma, I could not imagine how they would treat me when thing happened!
The lack of understanding about Communism, about the Communists, made me and many others in South Vietnam became confused about Communism and Patriotism. When I was young, I used to admire some Communists, especially Ho Chi Minh and Vo Nguyen Giap, whom I identified as patriots. I also identified the Vietnam War with the war between Vietnamese and French Colonists. I wrote many patriotic poems and showed them up in student's magazines. In addition, the chaos of leadership in South Vietnam from the president Ngo Dinh Diem to the president Nguyen Van Thieu made the people in South Vietnam wait for a stable and strong government that could build a better country. Most of the people in South Vietnam often look upon the Government of North Vietnam as a pattern of what they wanted. Pham Van Dong, the prime minister of North Vietnamese Government from 1954 to 1975 was a positive proof of stability, perhaps! Although many worse things about Communism happened in Soviet Union, in China, and in Eastern Europe, we hoped that the Communists of Vietnam would be better. Public trials in North Vietnam in the land reform period after 1955 with scenes of children accusing their parent, wives accusing their husbands, were not enough to convince the people to hate the Communists. Images of mass killing in temporary occupation zones of the VC were skeptically seen as the strategic propaganda of South Vietnamese Government. People were confused between good and bad about the Communists. They could not distinguish Patriotism and Communism! The fear and the admiring mixed together made the people not worry about the Communists any longer.
The strategic evacuations from Ban Me Thuot, Da Nang were announced as a carrying out of the Paris Peace Accords. I didn't know anything about the tenor of the Paris Peace Accords, especially the secret treaties that I have heard about the dividing by the 12th parallel at Phan Rang, a province in Central Vietnam, for the National Liberal Front. The greater part of what I heard was just rumors! In a country having chaotic situation, rumors usually were more trustworthy than what the government informed.
Although being an intelligence officer of South Vietnam government, I never learned about Communism. In my daily duties, I fought against the undercover organizations of Students in the University of Saigon. I only knew that those organizations were offspring of the Ho Chi Minh Labor Youth Union, an organization of the VC. I retook the Students' Association of the College of Science in 1972 from the Bung Song group, an undercover organization of the VC. Even though the radio of the National Liberal Front announced my death penalty for that success, I indifferently heard that news. They only knew my code name, and more over, I was still living in my region. To the contrary, if the Communists took over Saigon, what would happen for me? My anxiety and my misunderstanding were mixed together; I didn't know what I had to do!
Chapt. 2 - That was happening in my family
On April 19th, 1975 after leaving my wife in her office, I came to my mother's house as usual. I met Tai, my brother who just came home from Da Nang. He was an interpreter sergeant in South Vietnam Navy. Da Nang was a big city in Central Vietnam and was also an important harbor of South Vietnam. Tai had only his clothes on because he had been through many hardships to reach home. He recalled horrible things that he had seen on his way from Da Nang to Saigon. On a ship, a woman gave him her baby for she was looking for her other lost child; after that she disappeared in a crowd. He didn't know what to do and how to hold the baby going home for a long trip, so he put the baby in the arms of a stranger and ran away. People crowded together climbing onto any ship; many drowned falling into the sea.
"Why didn't you go abroad?" I asked.
"They ordered us to go to Saigon and to fight against the VC."
"Did you see any VC in Da Nang?"
"No, I didn't see anything except the people evacuated from Da Nang. They ordered us to leave Da Nang and gave up that city for the VC, but we didn't see any VC in that city. I don't know why we failed without any fighting."
"Did you hear about the secret treaties of the Paris Peace Accords?"
"They said many things about that, but I didn't hear officially even when they ordered us to leave Da Nang."
"How did you get home?" I asked curiously.
"First I took my ship to Cam Ranh. From there to Vung Tau, I climbed onto a ship of US Navy because I am an interpreter."
"Why didn't your ship go to Saigon?"
"I don't know; it straightened to Phu Quoc Island."
"What did you see on your way to Saigon?"
"People were frightened; they talked about the VC and massacres though no one saw any VC in their cities. They crowded together on the way to ports. They loaded everything possible on their motorcycles, on their bicycles, or on their shoulders. Children cried for lost their parents; someone lay dead on sidewalks. Thousands of people left their home hearing the VC coming or our military units withdraw. You are working in the Central Intelligence Organization; do you know about a plan of the Government or the US for the future of our country?" He asked me unexpectedly.
"No, I didn't," I was somewhat puzzled how to answer.
My brother was four years younger than I was; he had been an interpreter for the US Armed Forces Unit at the Long Binh barrack from 1968. When the US Armed Forces withdrew from Vietnam in 1972, he was transferred to the Vietnam Navy in the same rank and had the duty of an interpreter for the supply base of Vietnam Navy in Da Nang. Tai looked somewhat like me with his soft hair, his thick lips, and his square face. My mother said that he was more like my father than I was. Sometimes I felt a little jealous with that judgment.
I asked my brother to use mine to change his clothes because he was so dirty after ten days coming home. About 10am, my cousin Lan came from his fort at the Saigon harbor. He was a warrant officer in Vietnam Navy. He joined the Army in 1962 and worked as a communication officer in the headquarters of South Vietnam Navy in Saigon. He came to ask me to prepare to go abroad with him when necessary.
"I think my Organization has its own plan," I replied to him, "In an urgent case, I'll see you right away!"
I didn't know actually what to do. Hearing about the tense situation of my country, I was so confused. We would fight against the VC if they came into Saigon; why should we leave our country without fighting? Our Armed Forces were strong. Our weapons were enough even if the US no longer helped us. I just didn't know why we failed when we were gaining victors in the battles and in the rear. The withdrawal of our military units from many provinces of Central Vietnam without fighting created a frighten effect on the people. People evacuated from their cities though they didn't see any VC. The country became more chaotic than ever.
I looked at the street in front of the house. The motorcycle and bicycle repair shop was still opening. The grocery store was still noisy. The tailor and the barber shop were still having some guests. Some hawkers shouted their wares. Pedestrians were not in a hurry. Autos, motorcycles, and bicycles still moved back and forth. Everything looked normal; there was not a sign of war. The people in Saigon lived too familiar with the war since 1945; they heard indifferently the sound of guns except that happened next to them.
In 1954, a million people from North migrated to South Vietnam; they said many horrible things about the Communists, but the people in South Vietnam were always skeptical. They thought that the people came to South Vietnam to seek a chance to make fortune because North Vietnam was poor. In the minds of South Vietnamese people, Communism and Socialism meant nothing but poverty. Propaganda of South Vietnam government could not convince the people to hate the Communists. The people often thought of their interests than the ideal of anti-Communism. In addition, most people thought that they would have time to leave when the VC came into Saigon: The migration of a million people from North Vietnam after the Geneva Agreement was a precise proof.
I still believed on a plan of retreat of my Organization when necessary, but I thought thing was not bad enough! I never planned to go to the US or any other country. I would stay in my country if the Communists let me be a normal citizen, if there would not be revenge. On the other hand, I thought that South Vietnam would be temporarily a neutral country when the war was over. A discussion for the reunion of Vietnam would be set after that. During that time, I could choose whether to stay or to leave.
The Vietnam War was a civil war or a war between Communists and Capitalists, a liberation war or an idealization war. Those were just the words! Vietnamese people wished to end that war though they didn't know what would happen after that. More than a hundred years living in the war, the people were more discouraged than any others in the world. So was I! I was born in 1945, the year of the Second World War; Japanese conquered our country from French Colonists. I lived in the three wars, against Japan, French, and the so-called revolution war. I only wanted peace for my country. My hope was as simple as the request of the American people when they gathered to ask their soldiers to leave Vietnam immediately. Living on the other side of the Pacific Ocean, they didn't know anything about Vietnam, about the anguish of Vietnamese people who ought to bear the weight of the war between Communists and Capitalists. Thousands of US soldiers were killed in the Vietnam War shaking the American people and the whole world. What about the millions of Vietnamese people who died in the war? My thought made me so angry! Tears came to my eyes.
Chapt. 3 - The tragic situation
I had an appointment with my undercover agents at noon in the Sing-Sing restaurant at Phan Dinh Phung Street. Le, one of my agents who used to be a chairman of the students in the College of Science asked me.
“Do you have a plan when the VC takes over Saigon?”
“No, I don't!” I replied embarrassingly.
“I am going to go abroad in a few days; should you go with me?” Le asked.
“I think it's too early. I have to ask my boss first. Do you have any information for me?” I asked him about his jobs to avoid his questions.
“The Bung Song group is rising in the College after a long disappearance.”
“I knew that; did you see Hoan and Thang?”
"Bung Song" group was an undercover organization of the VC founded in the College of Science from 1965; Hoan and Thang were two leaders of that group. When I took over the Students Association of the College of Science from that group in 1972, the Bung Song group disappeared. Hoan and Thang hid into a secret zone of the VC. We captured Giau, the chief of Bung Song.
“I didn't see Hoan and Thang yet.” Le replied.
“I have to see my boss. See you here tomorrow at 10am.”
That was the last time I saw Le because he didn't show up on April 20th. I thought he had gone away from the country.
I came to the safe house at Phan Thanh Gian Street. Though it was about 2 pm, almost all personnel were waiting for my boss, Long. We wanted to know about the situation of our country and the plan of our Organization. Dep, the secretary of my boss told us that Long had a meeting in the Independence Palace. I thought that he was attending a meeting with the top leaders and the president Nguyen Van Thieu but could not ask anyone to make sure. After an F-5 aircraft flown by Nguyen Thanh Trung, a 26 year-old South Vietnam air force lieutenant, had tried to bomb the president last week, Mr. Thieu was hanging himself on in the palace.
My boss, Long was too young with the age of 35. He was a little fat with his hair thin and curly, so everyone in the Organization called him “Curly-Long” to distinguish from some other Longs. His skin burned brown for Long liked to play tennis at noon; he walked fast though his legs were short. I heard that Long was a distant relative with Mrs. Thieu, the first lady. He also lived in My Tho, a province of South Vietnam, next door with Mrs. Thieu's family. I didn't know if that was true, but I thought Long was talented. He worked hard too; someone said that Long was single and also high educated that rarely happened in the Organization authorized mostly by military officers. Long had graduated from the College of Law and from the National Institute of Administration.
In our daily duty, we had to work without limit of time. Sometime we worked until 2 or 3am, had something to eat, and then did our jobs again. Other time, we slept all day to regain our health. I never had a chance to take my vacation while I was working for the A17 detachment. The political situation in Saigon was very chaotic. Students in the University of Saigon and the University of Van Hanh (the University of Buddhism) demonstrated everyday asking for peace. Most of the demonstrations of students were induced by the VC and by some political parties discontented with the administration. The center of the opposition located at the An Quang pagoda. I didn't know much about the purposes of political parties, but I thought that to create a chaos in the country having a war was to help the enemy.
Long came to the safe house at about 3pm. He looked tired and tardy. We were waiting for a bad news! Throwing his suitcase on the table, he began in a low tone.
"I had a meeting today; they didn't explain the situation of our country. They only said that we have to arrange everything depending on what we see. The US abandoned us, so we must fight the enemy by ourselves. I will see you tomorrow in the headquarters to discuss what we are going to do."
In those unclear words, we understood the tragic situation of our country. We were just chess pieces on the chessboard of the great nations. They came here on behalf of peace and left here on behalf of peace too. We had to fight against the Communists by ourselves, not only the Communists of Vietnam but also the Communists in the whole world! The US and the Allies finished their aid that meant we ought to bear the weight of the war by ourselves. We were not afraid of great sacrifice of blood and bone, but afraid of the breach of faith.
I met Tuan and Banh, my close friends, in front of the safe house. Banh told me Thuan and Giang have gone! Banh used to be the Chairman of Students in the College of Law in 1973. Thuan and Tuan used to work with me in the same group when we joined the Organization. We collected information from the Association of Students in the University of Saigon and from the anti-government groups of the so-called "the Third Power" in the years 1969-1970 before we joined the A17 mission. (Our mission had a code name A17 because there were seventeen colleges in the University of Saigon). Giang was my partner. He married to a wealthy family; they went away when they felt dangerous for their lives. I thought Thuan left the country with his brother's family because they worked in the Tan San Nhat airport. We understood their giving up; they had to take care of their lives and their families first.
"How are your plans?" I asked Banh and Tuan.
"We don't have any yet. We think we have to wait for the plan of the Organization because we don't have any means. How is yours?" Banh smiled away his worry.
"I think we will have a plan tomorrow." I tried to keep calm. I didn't know what to do. Climbing onto a ship in the Saigon harbor across from our headquarters or into airport to take an airplane, I could do that by myself, but how about my wife with her unborn child; she was eight-months pregnant. I only waited for a plan of my Organization that would be safer for my wife.
I married in 1972 three years after met my wife. We saw each other in November 1969; the very first day we started to work for the Organization and also her twentieth birthday. My wife's sister and brother in-law were working in the Organization too. When I met her in the Human Resources office, I was very amazed because she was too young to work for the Intelligence Agency! She just graduated from high school. After three years married, she got pregnant and was very happy. That was actually her second pregnancy; she had the first miscarriage on the second month. She was totally desperate when a doctor said that she could not carry any child because of her disease. I brought her to many kinds of physician even some quacks. One oriental physician told that she could give my wife some medicine for her only child, and that was the child she was carrying. Our lives in those days were so peaceful. She worked for the Human Resources Department in the Headquarters; I usually drove her to her office every morning and picked her up every afternoon. I rarely came into the Headquarters because I worked in a mission detachment. Our salaries were not enough for our lives, so I taught chemistry for some private high schools in Saigon; that was my second job and also my cover.
If our lives flowed peacefully like that, I should not write this memoir! Those tragic events occurred to change everything for my life and for my people. Millions Vietnamese left their native country in exile around the world. Hundreds of thousand officers of South Vietnamese Government and Armed Forces were kept in the so-called re-education camps from South to North Vietnam and many of them were dead in those camps. Vietnam became a poorest country in the world. Were those our mistakes? I don't want to blame anyone else, but what could we do? We didn't know even how to save ourselves. How could we fight against the Communists in the whole world when we were tied by the abandonment of the great nation and the Allies? I was not a leader of the Republic of Vietnam. I didn't know anything about strategies of the Vietnamese Government, but I thought that the so-called strategies of small countries were only tactics of a great country! We could fight against the VC and should be dead for our country. I didn't deny that, but what we could do when they forced us to give up our forces. I heard many criticisms blaming the Vietnamese Government especially the leaders of the Republic of Vietnam to the loss of South Vietnam. I didn't know if that was true, but I thought we had to accept our faults not to blame for others even the leaders. I didn't make an excuse for them. I only said to understand the truth. We were confused about the safety for us and the fate of our country, between leaving and staying. I thought those who left Vietnam was not exactly cowards, who stayed were not exactly heroes. Everyone had his or her own circumstances and opportunities, and now I am trying to remember my circumstance to know why I was staying!
I came to pick up my wife from her office at Number 3 of Bach Dang Street, across from the Saigon Harbor. The port looked normal; the warships of South Vietnam Navy were still lying alongside of each other. Some naval soldiers and officers walked along the sidewalk by the Navy's headquarters. The Prime Minister Palace quietly stood underneath the blossom of the big old Banyan tree. Some soldiers stood still guarding in front of the buildings. The Bach Dang Street from Nguyen Hue Boulevard to Thong Nhat Street was a restricted area; only personnel who worked there could go in. I tried to find something unusual, but couldn't! I asked myself how could everything seemed so normal like that in a disorderly situation of the country.
I asked my wife when she sat behind me on my motorcycle, “Did you hear a plan of our Organization?"
"No, I didn't! What's happening? Some body said that our chief would be going away, and Mr. Loc, the assistance, takes that position. That was just a rumor. I saw Mr. Binh this morning."
"I don't know exactly what's going on yet, but I think there will be a tragic situation that could lead to the loss of our country."
My wife didn't understand about political matters. She didn't pay attention to anything but our daily life. I remembered when the Democratic Party of the president Thieu showed up to public, flag of that party was opposite of flag of North Vietnam with a red star in the yellow background; I joked with her that those were the flags of the VC. Horrified, she told me to turn another way to avoid them! I didn't know what she would say if my joke came true, if flags with a yellow star in the red background were hanging everywhere in Saigon! I laughed with my thought to cover my worries.
I came to my parents-in-law's home. My wife's sister working in the Division of Study told me that she saw some bad news from the report papers sent to the president that she typed everyday. The tragic situation of our country especially in the provinces of Central Vietnam was happening after the president ordered to withdraw the military units from Ban Me Thuot through the Seventh Inter-Provincial Road. Thousands of people died on the road that reporters named Horror Avenue. I have read about that in newspapers, but I didn't know what would happen next, especially a plan for my country due to treaties of the Paris Peace Accords. I wanted an explanation from my leaders. Working in the Organization belonging to the President, I thought there would be a plan for us when something happened.
Linh, my sister in law's husband said, "I don't think the VC could come to Saigon."
"How can you be sure?" I interrupted.
Linh was working in the Division of Training. He got a little hesitant before answering, "I heard that we gave up our land from twelfth parallel to seventeenth parallel for the VC and form a rigid front line from Tuy Hoa to prepare a negotiation with the VC and North Vietnam due to the secret treaties of the Paris Peace Accords."
"Do you think we would be able to fight against the VC without the aids of the American?"
"I think we could. In the Mau Than New Year, we didn't have any new weapons as M16, but we still won the VC with AK. Now we have many!"
"After the battles in Southern Laos, our Armed Forces were weaker; I don't know if we could deal with a general attack like the Mau Than New Year."
"The battle on the Ninth road in Southern Laos was a regicide! The VC knew everything about our tactics. I thought that was the Americans who didn't want us to have the strong Armed Forces that they could not directly control."
"All of our thoughts were just our guesses. We didn't have any explanation from our leaders. Now I think we have to do what we are going to do. We need to have our own plan not to expect our leaders any longer."
"How can we do it?" Linh suddenly asked.
"That was a reason we came here. My wife and I couldn't do anything, but all of us could probably form an idea!"
We silently looked at each other. I thought no one could find out anything, so I broke a heavy silence, "We must think about it and will see tomorrow."
On the way home, I passed by the Ben Thanh market, a business center of Saigon and of South Vietnam. Traffics bustled on the pavements. Merchandises filled on the sidewalks. People crowded in the shops. Some couples were wandering side by side on the Le Loi sidewalk. Things looked like everyday. I could not identify the air of war. The cafeteria "La Pagode" at Le Lai Street where I usually enjoyed coffee and music was still opening; sounds of the familiar music softly echoed when I drove by. Tolls of the bells from the Notre Dame Cathedral calmed my soul. I was a Buddhist, but I loved those sounds because of their lovely rhythm. The huge building of the US Ambassador stood proudly across from the quiet building of the United Kingdom Ambassador on Thong Nhat Street. Some US marine-corps, in combat uniforms and M16 rifles in their hands, stood by the gate of the building and in two blockhouses at the corners.
We came to Thanh Da condominiums where we were living. The family of my sister in law lived in the upper level; they already came home. We just moved in some weeks ago, so we had only a few things in the house: a set of cane chairs in the living room, a mattress on the floor in the bedroom, some cooking wares in the kitchen. Dining room was still empty. I looked out of the window. The Thanh Da River sparkled in the sunset. Some canoes cleaved waves far away. Lines of coconut tree across the river quietly reflected their images on the surface of water. The pale violet color of the sky and the dark green color of trees combined to form a harmonized painting. I loved to enjoy a life like that, but what would happen for me in such a situation of my country! An anxiety suddenly covered my mind.
The knocks on the door interrupted my thought. Linh came to chat with me as usual, yet I saw his sadness instead! Linh and Lan, my sister in law, had two sons. I didn't remember how long they married; their sons one was about three and one just a few months of age. Linh emigrated from North Vietnam in 1954 and was working in the Organization. They met each other there, too. High about 5 feet 6 inches with his long face always having a smile, Linh gained easily sympathy for everyone. Accompanied with Linh was Hao who used to be my friend in the College of Science working in the Organization and attached to the Police Forces. Hao just married some months ago. I asked Hao if he knew anything, but he shrugged his shoulders only.
I started when we seated in the balcony, "Do you know exactly what happened in the battles of Xuan Loc?"
"The general Dao used most of his troops in that battle field. He wanted to stop the VC and waiting for aids of the US," Hao judged.
"I don't think the US supports us any longer! The president Gerald Ford has failed to ask the Congress for the aid of 722 million dollars," Linh assured. "Now we must rely on ourselves."
"Do you think Mr. President of France, Valery Giscard d'Estaing, could help to seek a proper plan for Vietnam?" I asked despairingly.
"That was the last effort of French to help Vietnam, and I think that was also the only hope for us. Hao shrugged his shoulders again.
The difficulty was that we were working in the organization of intelligence, but we didn't know any plan for the country. We knew only information in newspapers and magazines from foreign countries. In those days, news from magazines such as Newsweek and Time or from the radios such as Voice of America and British Broadcasting Company seemed to have the purpose of destroying our country. The new "War Cabinet" of the president and the new civil Prime Minister Nguyen Ba Can could not manage the bureaucracy. People confused about rumors spreading thoroughly. Except for some wealthy who could pay about eight thousand dollars for a passport, others had no chance to escape from the country when the VC coming even those who worked for the US and for the South Vietnamese Government and Armed Forces. We were waiting for the Americans to help us as the president of the US tried to ask for the US Congress to give aid to rescue two hundred thousands of South Vietnamese who had worked closely with the Americans during the war. What a tragedy to put our lives in the hand of another!
The Paris Peace Accords was a victor for both the VC and the Americans. The falling of Phnom-Penh was beginning for the crisis in the Indochina peninsula. What would happen to our country next? The horrible crash of the C-5A aircraft last week killing many orphans still spread suspicion about the abandonment of the Americans. With orphans almost "half American" already gone, we didn't know about our fates. Should the US be more likely to rescue us when worst thing happened, or that was the only thing they had done in our country before they gave up. Why should we not seek a way to rescue ourselves? I asked Linh and Hao about an opportunity to evacuate when necessary.
"We don't have money to buy a passport, so I think we must rely on the plan of our Organization," Linh sadly said.
"I hope our Organization already had a plan. I cannot think that an intelligence organization didn't have a plan to help its agents in a concrete situation." Hao said without certainty.
"Our headquarters is very close to the harbor; I think we could climb onto a ship. We mostly worried about our families." I said disappointedly thinking of my wife.
We knew that our families were always the first things we were concerned about, and what we discussed usually was about the safety for our families. I used to hear a proverb that those who lost the country lost the family. And propaganda about "the blood bath" when the VC coming was always haunted my mind. I didn’t scare of death if my family would be safe, but I was concerned about the misery of my family when worst things happened.
A quiet moment occurred after my talk. I didn't know how to break the silence, so I recalled what I had heard from my boss. I came to a conclusion without meaning, "Perhaps we will know something tomorrow."
Hao said good-bye. Linh and I went to his sister's home. His brother-in-law was a director in the Department of Information. He was not home, and we made an appointment for tomorrow.
We came home hopelessly. Linh told me to pack our stuffs to be ready. My wife and I had only one small suitcase from our honeymoon, so I borrowed Linh his military kit bag for ease of carrying and helping my wife because she was too heavy. I put some of our clothes and something for our unborn child. I joked with my wife that if our child were born on the way to escape, we would name him "Evacuation" to remind us of the event. We laughed to cover our worry.
Chapt. 4 - The CIO was preparing to evacuate.
I came to the Headquarters early. After leaving my wife in her office, I went straight to the building of my section instead of to school though I had my class that morning. I could not appear in front of my students. Last night, I did not sleep although I had taken a pill. I got headache; therefore, I had my wife call sick for me.
The building of my section was differently noisy. I thought I was early, but most of personnel existed. Dep, the secretary of my boss was typing a paper while others surrounded her. Tuan told me she was typing an address list for personnel. In my country at that time, people didn't have private phone except those who were wealthy or own business. The connections between each other usually did by liaison agents; they drove motorcycle to look for people or to inform what people had to do. Sometimes we didn't live in our own house, so we had to have an exact address in a special situation. I wrote down my mother's address instead of mine because I didn't want to live alone.
"Is there anything in the Organization?" I asked Tuan.
"Nothing yet! I think there will be later when our boss arrives. I don't know if the other divisions have to do an address list, but I think that must be important."
"Who will be liaison agents? I think Hiep and Dien will be, won't they?"
"I think so, but we must come here frequently because we cannot rely on them. We must take care of ourselves. Why don't you phone your wife?" Tuan suddenly asked.
"Yes, I am going to phone my wife, my sister-in-law, and Linh too, so we’ll be able to know the situation of entire Organization."
With his whiskers not shaven yet, Tuan looked older than his thirty-two years of age. We often joked about him being half-French for his whiskers and his straight nose. In the early days when we just joined the Organization, Tuan and I used to work together in the "Student Mission Team". We took part in demonstrations of students to collect information. We had joined the Army on the same day and stayed in the same training center. When we came back to the Organization, I was in charge of missions at the College of Science and Tuan at the College of Letters, but we usually helped each other. Tuan's wife was also my wife's friend; we usually spend time together, so we were the great pals.
"I think we are on the brink of an abyss," Tuan interrupted, "my wife and I will try to go as soon as possible!"
"I hope you can do that. Your situation is easier than mine; my wife is too heavy with her pregnancy. I cannot go without a plan of the Organization. Moreover, I think our Organization must have a plan to help personnel in crisis situation."
"I hope so, but at least we must think about it!" Tuan worried, "I don't know if the situation of our country is bad enough!"
We were talking about the situation of our country, but we didn't know how bad it would be. We could not imagine we would lose our country; we only thought of a great battle with the VC when they came to the capital. There was a rumor of a retreat to the forth region, the plain of the Mekong river, to fight against the VC, but the battle in Xuan Loc still proceeded. We worked in an organization aiming at political subjects and didn't know about military affairs. That was our weakness.
In a country having the war for a long time, the political, the military, and the economic questions got into a muddle. Military leaders became also political leaders made the chaos for the country. We didn't have a great leader who could combine all power to fight against the enemy. Vice President Tran Van Huong, an old man stood for South Vietnam but didn't have real power. President Nguyen Van Thieu was a lieutenant general but didn't represent the whole armed forces. Every general was a king in his own kingdom with his own power. The separation between some generals made the armed forces to be confused. Two-star Air-Forces general Nguyen Cao Ky, the former vice president, and the general Duong Van Minh (big Minh) were combined with Buddhists' Monks of An Quang Pagoda and with the so-called "the Third Power" to oppose the President. They all wanted the President to resign. I didn't know how they could manage the country if they took power. Some new stars in political horizon had been killed such as Professor Nguyen Van Bong, the director of the National Institute of Administration and also the chairman of the "Radical" party.
I thought the best way to overcome that concrete situation was a unity as a Vietnamese proverb "in unity is living, in separation is death". I didn't blame our leaders for the loss of my country, but they had held the destiny of the country in their hands. An adage said that the victory of a general was built on ten thousands of skeletons, and I also thought that the failure of a general was built on millions of skeletons!
I phoned my wife in the Human Resources Offices and my sister-in-law in the Division of Study; they had their address lists as well. I knew that was a bad sign. However, I didn't know how bad it would be, and how I would deal with it. Gone to another country, prepared to fight against the VC when they came to the capital, or retreat to the Plain of Mekong River as rumor, I didn't know exactly what to do. Just to make an address list was not to solve our problem! We wanted an accurate explanation, and we were waiting for our boss.
Right after coming, Long went hurrying into his room. We looked wonderingly at each other. That was unusual because he never had had that manner. He usually came to the hall chattering with us before coming into his office. We were in anxious waiting for his words. About half an hour later, he went out in a sad manner.
"I am very sorry to say that we are going to have a dangerous situation. Many pressures on the president forced him to resign, and I don't know if he would. I also don't know who will be in charge when Mr. Thieu gives up. Mr. Vice-President would be temporary only. Moreover, I don't know how our country will be. We are making a list of your addresses under the order of our commissioner, but I don't know what for. I just want all of us to calm ourselves. We still work as we have been working, and we will be all together."
Many "I-don't-know’s" in his speech made us more confused than ever. What we had expected was not the foggy idea like that. We thought a leader had to express clearly and accurately the truth for his personnel not to cover by a vague answer. We didn't care who would be president; what we cared about was the fate of our country and how we were going to deal with it. I thought Long was confused for he was a distant relative with Mrs. Thieu; once Thieu resigned, he lost his support and perhaps lost his position. He was paying his attention on his position more than the fate of the country, perhaps! Long was a bright candidate in the position the commissioner of the Organization though he was young and not a military officer. He got success in his entire missions, and he was also better educated than many others. In our section, most of us were at least graduated from high school, and many were graduated from colleges. To manage a department like that, Long was more suitable than any military officer although the Organization was lead by military.
Long went out after speaking to us. Tuan, Banh, and I came to the cafeteria "La Pagode" as usual.
"Do you think Mr. Thieu is going to resign?" I started.
"I think he will because people didn't like him when he was an only candidate in the recent election. However, I don't know who would be the president," Banh quickly said, "I think the general Duong Van Minh and the general Nguyen Cao Ky are brightest."
"Big Minh had been a leader once; he didn't do anything for our country. The general Nguyen Cao Ky is "a cowboy" in military; how could he lead the country in this situation," Tuan judged.
"I agree! It seems to me that "changing the horse in the midstream" is not the best way. Mr. Thieu is not perfect, but if I had to choose between the three of them, I would choose him. Otherwise I don't know who could be suitable." I declared.
"I know some generals and the so-called ‘the Third Power’ want to negotiate with the VC, but how could we trust the Communists," Tuan said.
"It's true! The Americans didn't like the so-called Vietnam War any more; the people in the US think that this is a civil war between North and South Vietnam. They want us to solve the war by ourselves. They don't need to know this is the war between Communists and Capitalists and we are victims. I think the Americans want Mr. Thieu to resign and to solve the war over negotiation between North and South Vietnam, and that must be the main pressure," Banh said quickly talking as usual.
The beard without mustache created a funny look in his age of twenty-six. Banh was a maternal relative of Do Kien family of My Tho; Do Kien Nhieu, the mayor of Saigon was his uncle. I also heard that Do Kien family was a distant relative of Mrs. Thieu, the first lady. The leader of the country put his relatives in important positions that meant he didn’t trust his coworkers. That was also a reason for the others to oppose him. The down fall of the First Republic of Vietnam and the deaths of the president Ngo Dinh Diem and his brothers Ngo Dinh Nhu, Ngo Dinh Can have been a clear proof. Buddhist monks had taken a principle role in the destruction of the First Republic, and at this time, they also took an important part in the opposition to the president Thieu. The "Third Power" didn't have real power except the two generals Ky and Big Minh who had two difference viewpoints. Some others such as Mrs. Ngo Ba Thanh, Lawyer Tran Ngoc Lieng, Professor Chau Tam Luan, Buddhist nun Huynh Lien, etc. were relying only on Buddhists; in fact, the Communists were mingling in. The main power the students were surrounded by our students' forces since 1972 after we took over the General Association of Students of the University of Saigon from Huynh Tan Mam, a Communist. The Communists could not take advantage of students any longer, so they founded some other organizations such as "The Help for Starvation Youth Forces", and "The Begging Journalists Group" to create a muddle for the capital.
Except for some opposition powers against the president Thieu, the capital has been relatively stable until the evacuation from Ban Me Thuot and Da Nang was announced. People blamed Nguyen Van Thieu as an impediment to peace; the pressures from many sides were asking the president to resign. Our Organization was a part of the president palace; therefore the replacement of the president meant the changes in our Organization.
"Do you think that the change of the president would bring peace for our country?" I asked.
"I don't think so!" Tuan sadly said, "Many times there have been changes of leaders that only create more chaos.
"I agree! After the collapse of the First Republic, the Americans came to our country, and the war became more terrible. Our leaders had been changed many times, but no one could keep the stable condition like that in Ngo Dinh Diem regime," Banh added.
"I think our leaders only wanted to fight for their supremacy, not thinking of the fate of the country." Tuan judged. "I'm very sorry for us because we have to work for the ones who don't care about anything but their interests."
"We are young, and we have an ideal to bring peace for our country. I think if the VC were not so selfish of their Communists Party, it would be better to give up South Vietnam for them to have peace for our people. I don't care who would be a leader, North or South Vietnamese; what I am concerned about is peace and wealth for our people" I said with sympathy.
"I agree! We are so tired of the war. Over a hundred years we didn’t have a chance to rebuild our country," Banh said; "I hope there will be a day we live in peace, so we could do what we want to do."
I went to the Sing-Sing restaurant to meet my agents but didn't see Le. Nhan, Trung, Vinh, Tam, Tri, and Lam hoped to know something from me. I told them what I had heard from my boss and recommended them to do what they could to save themselves. They were my young agents who had helped me to takeover the Student's Association of the College of Science from the early days. Nhan, a leader of that group was crippled. I didn't know what had happened for him because I never asked him. He always looked joyful with a smile on his face. They were attending the first year in the College of Science, but they did their jobs very successfully. In the situation like that, they were too young to make their own decisions, and they mostly depended on the plan of the Organization! I understood that they were waiting for a clear explanation, not what I had told them. I said, a little ashamed.
"I know I didn't have what you're expecting, and I'm worrying just like you. My circumstance is so difficult, and I think it's more complicated than yours are. I'm very sorry. I think we have to do what we can, not to rely totally on the Organization. I hope you understand what I said."
From that night on, I stayed in my mother's house because I didn't want to miss anything when the Organization needed to contact me. I had told my agents that we had to solve everything by ourselves, but I still relied on the Organization! Lan, Phung, Tai, and I played "Four-Color Cards Game" and chattered. Phung was Lan's brother and was a sergeant of South Vietnam Navy. He used to live in my mother's house while he was a student, and he also married to a seamstress working in my mother's tailor shop. I recalled about the events in my Organization that morning and about its preparations. We concerned about the safety for our families. In my country, men were always heads of household and decided important things in their families. Lan had three children, Phung one; only Tai was still single. Our conversation was mainly on the subjects of the situation of our country and how to escape when worst thing happened. With three people working in Vietnam Navy, to escape by ship was very easy, but I always trusted in the plan of my Organization and waited for it
Linh came to take me to his sister's home. His brother-in-law, Thu, a director in the Department of Information --we called that the ministry of propaganda and enemies' summons-- met us.
"Did you have any plan for the evacuation?" Linh asked directly.
"No, not yet!" Thu answered with a little hurry, "but some things happened in my Department this morning."
"What's that?" Linh asked worriedly.
"My Minister, Hoang Duc Nha, said that there were many pressure on the president forcing him to resign, and perhaps he has to. We don't know when and what will happen, but we are preparing for a change because Nha is a cousin of the president."
"I had already heard about that, and this morning our Organization made the lists of personnel's addresses," I explained. "Yesterday I also heard about the transfer from Nguyen Khac Binh to Nguyen Phat Loc in the position of commissioner of the Organization, but that didn't happen yet."
"I think it will happen soon!" Linh added. "Do you have any idea about the situation of our country?"
"I think it's very complicated. The Americans wanted us to deal with the VC by ourselves, but they were pressing us heavily. Some generals wanted the president to resign for peace talking with the VC, but they didn't know how to negotiate with the Communists who never carried out any agreement. I don't know who would be the president when Mr. Thieu resigns. Nguyen Cao Ky and Duong Van Minh are two brightest candidates. With Ky, perhaps we would have a great battle instead of negotiation. To the contrary, Minh is now a supporter for the "Third Power" who wanted to cooperate with the VC. I don't know what would happen if Big Minh handled power." Thu replied with his judgment.
"We come here to ask whether you have any plan when worst things happen," Linh interrupted. "We must have our own plan not rely totally on the government or on the US."
"I didn't have it yet, but I already thought of it. I think we would have time to go if thing happened. You remember when we had been evacuating from North Vietnam after the Geneva Agreement, don't you? I think the country would not collapse so fast that we didn't have time to get out." Thu replied sincerely.
I knew that Thu didn't have any idea of a retreat because he had a great position that he didn't want to lose. After some conversations, we said good-bye. Linh seemed to be somewhat desperate because he thought his brother-in-law could help him.
Chapt. 5 - Signs of the Collapse of the RVN.
On April 21st, 1975, I came early to my office in the headquarters. We heard about the transfer of authority from Mr. Nguyen Khac Binh, the commissioner to Mr. Nguyen Phat Loc, the assistant of planning. We knew that the change in our Organization was a result of the change in the presidential palace, and things began to happen!
Our boss, Long, came early also. He told us to keep calm, but I thought he weren't. He went around from the hall to every office in the department and talked about many things except things in the Independence Palace. We thought he knew about the resignation of the President, but he still avoided.
Actually, Nguyen Van Thieu or any one else in the position of president was of no concern for us. What we concerned about was the fate of our country and of ourselves. Who would be president and how he would confront with the chaos of the country? The Vice-president Tran Van Huong did not have enough power to handle the position. The general Duong Van Minh meant a compromise with the Communists. The former vice-president Nguyen Cao Ky would lead our country to a great battle. We weren't scare of death if we had to fight against the VC. We knew that any compromise with the Communists would be our failure because they never kept their promise. Yet we didn't have any choice! The main pressure was the Americans; that was anguish for people in a small country. I thought the Americans no longer want us to fight the Communists. They want negotiation to have peace in honor as they said, and they were going to choose Big Minh. Nguyen Van Thieu said that --don't hear what the Communists said but watch carefully what they are doing.-- I didn't know who the right author of that statement was, but I thought that was exactly true.
Dep, the secretary of my boss was still typing the personnel's address list. Some wanted to change the address, and others hadn't come yesterday. The transfer of authority in our Organization was very quiet, no ceremony, no participation of personnel, so we wouldn't know anything if we were not told. The rumor about that transfer became real. We also heard that the only job of Mr. Nguyen Phat Loc, the new commissioner was planning the evacuation for personnel. We asked our boss about that rumor, but he didn't confirm; he only said that everything would be on its way. Those misty words didn't satisfy us, and we didn't know how to solve our problems, whether waiting for the plan of the Organization or seeking for another way.
The resignation of the President Thieu was announced that evening, and his ninety-minute message was spread on Television and Radio. We watched and heard indifferently although the resigned president looked sorrow and anger. We had known that, and we also knew that the seventy-one-year-old vice president Tran Van Huong was just a temporary president. What we were concerned about was who would be next and what would he do.
The appeal of Tran Van Huong about the reunion to fight against the enemies was just protocol. He didn't have power to reunite the armed forces and the people. People didn't trust the government. They blamed the government for being corrupted and drawing the country to that chaos. I didn't know whether that was true or just propaganda of the VC. If that was true, the corruption of high leaders in government and military was the damage to the country especially in the war because that made the enemy had opportunities to ruin the reunion of the people. People were scared of the Communists but distrusted the government. That was too difficult for any one who wanted to reunite people to fight against the Communists. Almost all Vietnamese knew the proverb cited by the new president in his speech that --to reunite is living, to separate is death, -- but no one carried that out. What a tragic irony! How could we deal with that -even if we had power and enthusiasm-?
The death of the first President of Vietnam, Ngo Dinh Diem, in 1963 had started the crisis of leadership in South Vietnam; the resignation of Nguyen Van Thieu was beginning for the loss of the Republic of Vietnam perhaps! We thought of that but didn't know what to do. We expected a last battle with the VC, and we also hoped that the so-called "Allies" should not abandon us in that battle.
The battle at Xuan Loc had failed before the president resigned. Rumors said that the Americans didn't allow Major General Le Minh Dao, the Commander of 18th Division to use a kind of chemical bomb for a victory! We didn't know if it was true, but the failure of that battle was hopelessness for the people in the capital because that was a last defense line of North East Saigon.
The aid of the "Allied Nations", especially of the US was just an illusion after President Ford had been denied by the US Congress a $722 million of emergency military aid to the Saigon Government. The evacuation of Americans, Japanese, and other foreigners from Saigon was a clear proof of the abandonment of the United States. The twenty-year war was over in a resignation of the President under unbearable pressures from many sides. I didn't know whether or not the new president could bring peace for my country. I only predicted the loss of the country when I saw in television the new president Tran Van Huong was hardly moving beside a bodyguard who helped him walking. Although Tran Van Huong in his speech vowed that he would fight until the troops die or the country lose and will be buried with his soldiers, I thought he wouldn't have a chance to do so because he was too feeble in his seventy one years of age.
It was clear that the transfer of authority in the Organization was preparing for an evacuation for personnel, but we didn't have any plan yet. An Intelligence Organization had to prepare many things for its abandonment such as burning down completely documents, transportation for thousands of personnel and their families, and so on... We only were reminded to keep calm and waiting for a decision from our leaders. I thought they dared not decide anything. Those who had their own opportunities to go abroad did go away already, and the rest were waiting hopelessly for an imaginary plan from the leaders.
The days following were our longest days. The appeal from the new president to maintain positions for a last fighting was an order. We were a hundred per cent on duty in the Organization. We had to stay in our offices unless came to meet our agents. We didn't know what to do but to play cards and to chat. We didn't know what we were waiting for, a battle with the VC, a retreat, or a collapse of our country. What a tragic!
My wife was staying in her office, and we only met each other at lunch times. I felt pity for her pregnancy. She was a small woman whom I named "fragile", and she loved that nickname. I didn't know if she would have strength to endure hardship of that situation. I asked myself her pregnancy was her happy or her sorrow though she had waited for it for a long time. I could not decide anything whenever I looked at her. She was so fragile, yet so heavy; how could she climb onto a ship and make a long trip to nowhere! I would not leave her alone because she worked for the Organization. If things happened, she would also be their target. I didn't want to abandon her to seek a rescue for myself. We would die together if we had to. What I hoped was that my child could be born before worst thing happen, so we would be able to choose whether hiding, going away, or killing ourselves.
Beside the chaos of our country, we still did our jobs. The General Association of Students of the University of Saigon was voted successfully. Pham Minh Canh, my agent became the chairman. A celebration for the appearance of new Association was preparing as usual. Instead of a performance of singers as we used to do, we had a movie that has been criticized as a sin at that time to perform, "exorcise." I didn't know why my boss chose that film because it had been prohibited by censorship of the Department of Propaganda for a long time. I didn't come because I didn't want my wife to see a horror film when she was pregnant. The very first thing that the new Student Association did was asking to attack North Vietnam by nuclear weapons for solving the fate of South Vietnam. I thought that was useless and funny because no one in the world wanted an atomic war. The Vietnam War was the regional battle between Capitalists and Communists to prevent a world war. All of up-to-date weapons of both Eastern and Western world had been tried in the Vietnam War in nearly twenty years. That was the end of the Vietnam War, perhaps! The worst thing was that we, South Vietnam soldiers, were sacrificed by the Great Nations.
The battle in the province of Xuan Loc was over with the failure of the Eighteenth Division. Defeated soldiers rushed disorderedly into the capital. VC troops surrounded Saigon; rockets of the VC fell everywhere in the capital even in the Headquarters of our Organization. Meanwhile, the Communists declared that the government headed by an old and feeble man, Tran Van Huong, was unacceptable for peace talking. In the United States, the President Ford said that the Vietnam War was over. A remain of the US was an escape for about six thousand Americans in Vietnam. For evacuation two hundred thousand or so of Vietnamese associated with the US, they needed a massive troop that was very hard to accept by the Congress.
I felt desperate to put my life in the hands of the people living in other side of the world, who didn’t care about anything except their interests. The Americans scared of the longest war in their history; they loved peace! They didn't want to continue the so-called Vietnam War, but they never thought about millions of South Vietnamese people whose lives would be threatened if the Communists took over the country. In 1972, the so-called Vietnamization of the war after the Paris Peace Accords had cleared the road for the withdrawal of the US GI's from Vietnam. A last American would depart from Vietnam to end the war that they didn't want to be sunk more and more in the mud.
Americans said that the Vietnam War was the most expensive in their history, and they no longer want to pour money into that bottomless hole. They blamed Vietnamese Government to be corrupt lead to the loss of the country, but they didn't let the Vietnamese choose their leader. They asked the Vietnamese found democracy with total freedom and oppositions. I thought that was so ideal for a country having a war for almost a hundred years. The Communists mingled into most of the opposition parties and associations –even in government organizations. They pushed discontented individuals to do everything useful for them. Instead of helping to found a strong government to fight against the Communists, the Americans created opportunities for the Communists to take advantage by helping the oppositions and variances in Democratic Organizations. Student's Opposition Movements from Huynh Tan Mam, Le Van Nuoi for example had included the Communists in positions of leadership and supporters. The so-called mothers, sisters who went along with the Students Association of Huynh Tan Mam were no one but the Communists. If the government put down those movements, that would be violence to women and youth, if not, that could create more and more chaos for the country. The government was always in a dilemma. I did not defend the government, but in my jobs I used to confront those difficulties. I wanted to say that a country in a war is not the same situation as a country in peace, and that we must accept our responsibilities, not fasten them upon the government only. I remember a Chinese proverb that --the strength or the weakness of a country is the responsibility of everyone, even common people.--
Evacuation for Vietnamese was a main topic especially for officers of South Vietnam military and government, but civilians were crowded in the Tan San Nhat air base. The Route 15th, the only escape route from Saigon was tightened by the VC. Most South Vietnam officers having means to escape had already done this, but others were asking about whether or not an escape from the country was too early! The most difficult question for us was that an early escape was surrender without fighting, but it would be too late when thing became worse. Nguyen Van Thieu, the resigned president fled Saigon to Taipei though in his resignation message he had said that he was only resigning not abandoning. Nguyen Khac Binh, our former commissioner, had gone abroad soon after the transfer of his authority. Some of the leaders in our Organization such as the deputies Tan and Giau, the chief of A-section Tam, had given up and escaped. Meanwhile the new president ordered us to hold our positions for a last fighting. We confused more than ever. Our boss, Long, tried to calm us by his regular presence in the office, but I thought he was very worry. He walked around and avoided our question.
Chapt. 6 - The Last Day of the Country.
The echoes of explosives in the distance mixed with the noises of traffics created an ambiguous look for the capital. People jammed in restaurants, movies theaters and banks. The Vietnamese withdrew their savings to buy dollars and gold; price of dollar was rising from 118 dongs to 500 and then to thousands for a dollar, so did the value of gold. Those who prepared to evacuate needed dollars and gold for their passports or for their lives in future countries; others didn't trust Vietnamese currency and banks. Traveler checks also took their place in Vietnamese black market.
Though the capital seemed to be normal, a great tension covered people's minds. They were expecting worst thing to happen. South Vietnam officers were scare about their lives; civilians were expecting a new life without war, and also without predictability. Whether a great battle or a compromise with the VC, that meant a death sooner or later.
We wanted to fight, not to give up, but we had no choice because we didn't have power. What would happen for us when the VC took over Saigon, a blood bath, revenge? How would they treat their enemies? Everything led to the end of our lives. Why wouldn't we accept death in honor instead of death in vain? Millions of lives in the capital were being threatened, but everyone seemingly ignored it. Life still went on as usual! The people in Saigon were used to living in the war since French Colonial period, since the general attack of the VC in the Mau Than New Year 1968, and since "the red-flame" summer 1972. People even hoped that some victors of the VC were just temporary as in the Mau Than New Year; the Americans have abandoned at first, and then they helped the South Vietnamese Government to gain victory later. I thought that no one in South Vietnam could imagine the loss of the country as easy as "turning a hand".
Leadership crisis happened after the resignation of Nguyen Van Thieu. Tran Van Huong, the vice-president could not handle the power; the trying-to-open negotiation was the main purpose of the new president though he had announced a ready-to-fight against the VC when necessary. The Communists immediately declared Huong's presidency was not acceptable for Huong was Thieu's brother. North Vietnam troops and the VC were surrounding the capital after the failure of the South Vietnam 18th division at Long Khanh. Bien Hoa and Tan San Nhat air bases and some spots in the capital were attacked by VC's 130-milimeter rockets. Meanwhile, President Ford said that the Vietnam War was over and Americans can regain the sense of pride that existed before Vietnam. That meant there would be no more chance of the US to help South Vietnam, and if there would be a total military defense, we had to confront the situation by ourselves. While Huong promised to negotiate by offering a minister to Hanoi, the capital of North Vietnam, the Communists still refused the overture of peace. In his speech to the people, the new president said that our Allied Nations have abandoned us, so we have to defend our country alone. Saigon could become a sea of fire and a mountain of bones if there would be a great battle that I wish to avoid.
On Sunday, April 27th 1975, under pressure from the US ambassador G. Martin and South Vietnamese leaders, Tran Van Huong announced his resignation after six days in the role of president. He said that he would transfer the presidency to whom that was chosen by South Vietnam's Assembly for peace making for South Vietnam. We received that information with total hopelessness; we had to find any way to escape from the country. We all knew that the next president would be the general Duong Van Minh who was a high leader of the "third power" (the middle between South Vietnamese Government and the Communists) and linked with Buddhist monks of An Quang Pagoda. Negotiation in weak position meant failure; that could avoid a blood bath for the people but could not evade a revenge for us, who used to be the Communists' enemies.
The transfer of presidency between Huong and Minh in early morning of April 28th was hasty and simple. Minh promised in his speech that he would try to keep the faith of Huong (whom Minh called teacher) to avoid a blood bath for the people in the capital. Minh accepted a coalition government for South Vietnam consisting of the Communists, the Neutralists, and the Provisional Revolution Government. The so-called Neutralists included some organized groups in South Vietnam such as the Third Power, An Quang Pagoda Camp, Catholics group, Hoa Hao and Cao Dai Religious sects. First of all, Minh declared one of the preconditions of the Communists for negotiations; request all US military personnel and civilians disguised as military personnel leave Vietnam within 24 hours. He didn’t mention anything about millions personnel of South Vietnamese Government and Armed Forces except an immediate order to cease-fire.
In my Organization, there were different orders about whether to destroy documents or not. The burning stove was full of papers; it could not hold more. For the first time, my boss discussed a plan of retreat with us, but he could not decide any thing except waited for a plan from our commissioner. We knew that our Organization was depending on the CIA of the US and our leader had to ask the American Advisors first. The Americans had only 24 hours to leave Vietnam. How could they help us? We were desperate! Some went to the Saigon Harbor across from our Headquarters climbing onto a ship, but the others clumsy in their own situations were waiting hopelessly for the leaders.
I came to pick up my wife in her office after heard the order from my boss to reunite tomorrow at the safe house at Phan Thanh Gian Street. It was twilight, but some helicopters still roared in the sky. Streets looked different. Passengers walked in a hurry; armed and unarmed soldiers went to-and-fro. Military vehicles ran back and forth. Though there was an order of cease-fire from the new president Minh, policemen and soldiers still kept their guns. Some South Vietnam pilots who angered by the agony of the country flew A-37 aircrafts attacking the Tan San Nhat air base, burned some planes on the ground and caused echoes of explosions to downtown Saigon. Some South Vietnam soldiers, in uniform of Marine Corps and Parachutist, fired at the choppers. The South Vietnam soldiers were so desperate that they could not do any thing but declared their discontent by firing at the escaping Americans, but nothing happened to the Americans except a helicopter being ditched into the sea from a US vessel. People drove bicycles and motorcycles full with merchandises looting from an abandoned US commissary at New Port, Thu Duc township, about ten miles from Saigon.
The capital became anarchy right after Big Minh taken power. The US Embassy was surrounded by the people who wanted to come in and get a place in choppers landing on the flat roof of the building. American guards in Marine Corps’ uniform with M-16 riffle in their hands stood still indifferently in the blockhouses. The crowd in front of the closed gate raised papers; sometimes the gate opened and some Westerners went in. I saw many Vietnamese in there too. The evacuation of the last Americans from Saigon to aircraft carriers ought to be completed within 24 hours, so it happened hurriedly and noisily creating more and more confusion for the people. People in the capital sensed the loss of the country was nearby. Some rushed to the streets watching choppers, others seeking a way to flee the country, or going to loot in abandoned warehouses of the American. Discouraged Vietnamese soldiers and police didn't want to interfere any longer. All created a chaos more than ever!
For the first time, I brought home a small handgun. I didn't want my wife to see it, so I hid it in the corner of a drawer. I didn't understand why I did that, but I felt horror for my thinking. I knew that I was preparing for our deaths, or just for mine if I was enable going to kill my wife. I felt sorry for my unborn child. We used to name our child Anh Hoang for a boy and Hoang Anh for a girl. Yet, I didn't know whether he or she could be born. I thought that a great battle would not happen, but the loss of my country could not be avoided. Communism or Capitalism did not have any meaning for me. The long war in my country would last, and I thought not any side gained victory in the Vietnam War because countless of Vietnamese in both sides lost their lives during the war. I did not mention about the soldiers, what I want to say here was the people, the innocent people who had been killed in a meaningless war. If I died when the war was over, I would be just one of millions people who died in that war. I hoped my people should be happy in a peaceful country though under the Communists' regime. I thought that whether Communists or Capitalists everyone is Vietnamese; it would be better than a country in Colonialism. My thoughts calmed me down. I came home with a gentle mind to seek another way to escape.
Sitting behind me on the motorcycle, my wife didn’t say a word, but I felt her tears damping my neck where her face closed. Her arms were tighter than other days. I knew she was afraid of horrible things, and she was afraid of missing the happiness that she was having. I didn't know how to calm her but to touch her hand. Nearly three years living together, I always drove her anywhere she wanted to go. Whenever I came to the Headquarters, I usually stopped by her office and gave her a kiss before came to my department. She often recalled the first time going to the movie together, I wished her a good night when I said good bye; she told me that she loved me from that time. We wanted to have two kids, a boy and a girl, but when we knew the pregnancy was the only child that she could carry, we hoped that it would be a boy. In our country, the idea of having a boy is better than a girl was traditional. Truthfully, I only wanted a boy for her sake; I didn't care much about a boy or a girl. I knew that her baby would be her happiness, but in our situation, I didn't know whether it was happy or regret. I felt pity for her, for our unborn child, and for myself! We were stuck in an embarrassing circumstance. I only relied hopelessly on a plan of my Organization, but seeing the evacuation in a hurry of the Americans, I knew that we could not depend on them. How could they take care of us when they had to retreat immediately like that? I did not know whether the order from Big Minh to withdraw the Americans in 24 hours was his idea or the American's, but I thought that everything had to be from Washington. The Americans wanted to retreat from Vietnam "in honor". They withdrew from Vietnam due to the order of the President of Vietnam not their failure; that would be their honor, perhaps! I didn't know who gained victory in the Vietnam War, but I felt that we were being abandoned in the end of the war. In 1963, Duong Van Minh, who led the so-called “revolution” to overthrow the First Republic of Vietnam, had cleared the road for the US Armed Forces coming into Vietnam. In 1975, Duong Van Minh took power to negotiate with the Communists; the Americans were totally withdrawing from Vietnam. What a repeat in the opposite direction of history!
The history of Vietnam consisted of a thousand years in the domination of Chinese, a hundred years of the French Colonial, and more than twenty years of the war between Communists and Capitalists. All Vietnamese people loved peace more than any one in the world, but first of all they needed a peace in freedom not in dependent on another country. The Vietnamese people could not distinguish Patriotism and Communism. The South Vietnamese Government could not explain that idea for the people, and most of the people thought of the Communists as patriots and Americans as conquerors. In addition, the interference of the US Armed Forces in Vietnam drew the people to go against the Americans. South Vietnamese Government lost the ideal of anti-Communists. People didn't trust the Government although the government had tried so hard to explain about the cruel policy of the Communists. The Communists called South Vietnamese Government the pseudo-government, and the people seemed to believe that South Vietnamese Government was just the US's servant. The war between Communists and Capitalists became the war of liberation to fight against the so-called American Empire. All of those, I thought, were caused by the interference directly of the US's Armed Forces in Vietnam while the Soviet Union and China only poured weapons and money into North Vietnam; they didn't have their Armed Forces in Vietnam except their advisors.
I didn't understand why both the Americans and the Communists said that they won the war. The true failure just belonged to us, the South Vietnamese Government and Armed Forces, perhaps! We had to accept every thing to happen for us because we had failed in the war although we wanted to blame anyone else. I knew that, and was waiting in agony for things to happen for me and for my family. I didn't know whether it would happen in days or weeks or months, but it should happen, because a compromise with the Communists was always a suicide especially a coalition in weak position. The history of Vietnam had been proven. Once in 1945 the coalition government between the Communists and some other parties was just temporary for the Communists having time to eject non-communists, and in 1954 not long after the Communists had signed the Geneva Agreements, their Armed Forces crossed the demilitarized zone to conquer South Vietnam. I didn't think the VC would accept a coalition government, as Big-Minh's solution, because they were winning. Even if they accepted that solution, it would be temporary for them preparing to take over the country and eject the others. The failure of us was just a matter of time.
I came to my mother's house and saw Lan, Phung -my cousins- and Tai. Lan and Phung decided not to go with their ships because their wives didn't want to go. I thought Vietnamese people never wanted to leave their native country unless they had no choice. Vietnamese people used to live inside the bamboo hedge of their villages; they rarely moved away. They were always fond of their birthplaces although those were poor enough. The people left for South Vietnam in 1954 when the Communists conquered North Vietnam. They built settlement villages and lived together; they kept their own traditions though they lived in a part of Vietnam. I could not imagine how Vietnamese people living abroad. Moreover, when they climbed onto a ship or a chopper, they didn’t know where would be their destinations. It would be a bet with destiny! For me, I decided not to go by myself because I didn't want to leave my wife with our unborn child. I planned to hide somewhere to wait for our child to be born; then we would seek for another way. Besides, I hoped that there would be a period of transition between Big-Minh's regime and Communists', so I could prepare for our evacuation. I told my wife about my thinking to calm her and calm myself.
That evening, I packed our stuffs for the re-arrangement with my boss tomorrow. I could not sleep thinking of my life. The smells of smoke and coffee in the room awakened me all night long. My wife fell into a deep sleep because she was tired enough. It was a quiet night except sound of helicopters roaring in the sky and some blasters from a distance. The curfew was still in effect. There was no traffic or pedestrian on the roads but military cars in action. The flares in the sky flashed through the window and lightened the lane underneath my upper level room behind my mother's house where I used to live in my childhood. The small table where I used to do my homework from primary school to university still stood in the corner of the room; my funny drawings still existed on the table. The bed I was sleeping on was the one I used to sleep on when I was young. My books from high school to university still arranged orderly in the bookcase. Nothing was changed except my thought. I felt regret for my childhood that I could not relive.
The coughs of my mother downstairs dragged me back to the present. I heard the pouring of water into a glass and the sound of her paces. Those were the familiar sounds I used to hear. My mother was a small woman, less than the medium size of Vietnamese women, but she was not weak. She could sit all day long by the sewing machine getting money for our lives. Her life was an offering for her children. My father had left the family to a secret-zone since she was very young, and he was killed in a battle with French soldiers when my mother was only twenty-nine. Since then, she had to raise us by herself. Being a seamstress, she had to work very hard from sunrise to midnight every day. She let us go to school and wanted all of us to graduate from university because she didn't want us to be poor as she was. When I became a government officer, my sister a teacher, and my brother an interpreter, we asked my mother not to work any longer, but she said that she was used to working and could not stay still to collect money from her children. I thought her life was a bright mirror of Vietnamese women. I felt regret that I didn’t rendered my thanks to her yet, and I didn't know if I could do that later.
I drove my wife to the safe house at Phan Thanh Gian Street in the early morning. My youngest brother, Tuan, and my cousin, Nghia, accompanied with us. I wanted to have them if I could get out of the country, so my wife and I would not be alone. Also, Nghia had been my agent; therefore he should go for his safety. We drove by the American Embassy building on the way to the safe house. Streets were differently busy. Motorcyclists with piles of suitcases in front and partners behind rushed towards downtown Saigon. Despite barbed wire on the top of the wall and the armed-Marine-Corps, some Vietnamese were climbing onto the concrete walls surrounding the US Embassy compound, besieged the front white gate and the side gates trying to get inside. Thousands of people with their bundles crowded around the Embassy building, and in front of the gate of the First District Police Station behind the US Embassy. Evacuees were waiting for helicopter on the flat roof of some buildings in downtown Saigon. Some surrounded the Vietnamese Navy soldiers guarding on the way to the Saigon harbor. What a disorderly evacuation! I did not see any Westerner in the crowd in front of the Embassy building.
The safe house was full of personnel; I thought it was no longer a "safe house". I saw every one including my agents with their families. Diep, the designer of our section with his pregnant wife met me at the door and told me that Long, our boss was phoning Mr. Loc, the new commissioner asking about evacuation for employees and families. We were waiting anxiously. Tuan and his wife came to see my wife and me. We talked about everything that happened in the capital, but the main thing was about our circumstances and our fates. Trung, Tam, Tri, Lam, Vinh, and Nhan, my agents surrounded me and asked things that I could not answer. I wondered why they didn't escape by themselves. They were young and single; therefore climbing onto a ship in the Saigon Harbor was so easy. Perhaps they were also waiting for the plan of the Organization. An unplanned preparation was always a disaster. I decided not to go without a plan of the Organization because I had to take care of my wife.
Soon after I came, Long, in the sad appearance, got out of his room and said that the evacuation could not be arranged right away because the Americans had to take care of themselves first. He told us to seek any way to escape if we didn't want to get together that night in the building of the Organization at Nguyen Hau Street waiting for American helicopters. We went out of the safe house. After giving secret fund to someone remaining in the safe house, Long and Hiep, the security officer of our section, sneaked into the First District Police Station and climbed onto the Embassy compound by the back wall. Almost all of us went home and tried another way to save ourselves.
I passed by the Saigon port and saw the motor cycle of Vu Cong Tuan, my partner, left there; I knew he had gone away by a Navy ship. I asked my brother and Nghia if they wanted to come into the port, but they said no. On the way home, I stopped at Diep's home to see if they had any way to because his wife was pregnant like mine, but they didn't have any idea. I came home waiting desperately for to happen.
Helicopters were still roaring, and sounds of shotguns fired hopelessly into the sky. The thunders of cannon and rocket resounded from a distance. In the afternoon, the jet chopper accompanied by two fighter planes headed straight East in the sky; many sounds of gun from the ground and some smoke of cartridges blasting said farewell for the deserters. That was a last escape of the Americans, of the Ambassador Martin perhaps.
The Americans came to Vietnam in order to help Vietnamese keep their freedom and then left Vietnam without any ceremony but the anger of abandoned people. French Colonists left Vietnam in 1954 after their failure in the battle of Dien Bien Phu, but they had not withdrawn by the back door like the Americans. They had helped those who worked for them or who didn't want to live with the Communists coming to South Vietnam. I didn't know why the so-called great nation like the US could not find a way to go in honor instead of running away in a hurry like that! They always said that they had won the Vietnam War, and they honored their soldiers by many kinds of medal; how could they let their ambassador run away like a traitor?
Saigoneses rushed into streets watching the last exit of the American with their bitterly humor. South Vietnam soldiers and officers felt desperate. Their leaders resigned or deserted; their allies withdrew. How could they deal with the situation while the so-called peace administration of the "third power" ordered them to give up their weapons? The "third power", the one who had messed up the rear to help the enemy, was reining the country to negotiate with the enemies. How could I trust them? My way to escape was blocked; I was in a dilemma. I only had to wait for any disaster to happen to me, even my death. I thought nothing was worse than waiting for a worst situation to happen without a defense.
The night of April 29th, 1975 was a longest night in my life. I didn't come to the station at Nguyen Hau because I knew that was only a last trick. The Americans had gone, who would take care for us, a huge bloc of escapee. The only way to escape was coming into the harbor and climbing onto a ship, but I could not do that. The gathering at Nguyen Hau station had failed. Some went away by navy ship; the rest came home the next morning in desperation.
The concussions of bombs, rockets, and artillery were heard all night long from a distance. Saigon Broadcasting Radio only spread military music, the habit of it when important events happening. Vietnamese used to hear that music in the coup d'etat 1963 to overthrow the First Republic, in the Mau Than New Year 1968, in the coups against Duong Van Minh's regimes and Nguyen Khanh's administration. At that time, that music was preparing for a most importance, for the loss of the country perhaps! The Voice of America stopped the song White Christmas that has been sent out continuously before; the withdrawal of the Americans was completed. The British Broadcasting Company said that the new president Duong Van Minh had failed in the attempt to compromise with the Communists, and Communists' troops were surrounding Saigon waiting for the surrender of Big-Minh. The Communists said that Minh's was just the holdover from the old US's support regime.
We failed, and our country was going to lose in a day or so. Communists' troops surrounded the capital. South Vietnamese Armed Forces were completely destroyed. Most of our leaders deserted, and the new president commanded the soldiers to give up their weapons. A compromise, if it happened, would be a suicide. I listened to the radio all night long waiting for the worst thing to happen in my deep depression. I could not keep tears not falling from my eyes.
Chapt. 7 - The Very First Day in the Communist Regime.
April 30th, 1975 is a historical day that no one in Vietnam or exiles the whole world can forget. I got out of my room early though I had not slept all night. My wife was still sleeping; I didn't wake her up because I wanted her to have peace even if the worst thing happened in that morning. The street in front of my mother's house was noisy although the curfew was still in effect. People went to-and-fro disorderly; motor vehicles honked tumultuously. I knew something would happen for last night I had heard about the collapse of my country through many broadcasting stations. I didn't understand why the so-called media of the free world usually broadcasted information beneficial for the enemy. The massacre in My Lai and the picture of the general Nguyen Ngoc Loan, the commissioner of South Vietnam Police, shot a VC in the Mau Than New Year were showed up in many magazines, but I never saw any image of the mass killing in Hue and Quang Tri, when the VC temporarily occupied those cities, or images of the children in the Song Phu elementary school in Cai Lay who were killed by VC's rockets. The War that was described as the longest and most terrible war in the world after the Second World War could not avoid killing innocent people. The propaganda's tactics of the media helped the Communists to gain their righteousness and caused the Allies to loose the support of their people. The failure of Capitalists in the Vietnam War was not in the war by itself, but was originated from anti-war movements in the US and in the world.
I was waiting for the crisis of my country in desperation. People seemed to be familiar with the war and still lived as usual. I could not distinguish who was VC because everyone was Vietnamese. I thought that the end of the war was always better for my people no matter who would win the war. We were Vietnamese whether Communist or Capitalist. I hoped my people should have peace and wealth. A hundred years in the French Colonial and twenty years in the war made my country the poorest and the most broken one in the world. If the VC could bring happiness for my people, their victory would be worthy. My life was only a grain of sand in a desert, and if I died, it would be nothing. My thoughts made me feel a little easier.
My mother's tailor shop was opening as usual. Seamstresses still did their jobs, and clients came and went as if nothing happened. About 10:30 am, the president Duong Van Minh announced in the Saigon radio an unconditional surrender to the Communists. He stated that the surrender should avoid an unnecessary blood bath for the people, and he asked soldiers of the Republic of Vietnam cease fire in calmness and stay at their places waiting for the change over with the VC.
I heard sounds of shotgun from somewhere nearby. Despite the order of cease-fire, some parachutists guarding in the Cancer Institute Center close to my mother's house shot at the VC troops and then killed themselves. Some scattered fights between VC and South Vietnam troops still happened in Ba Queo, next to Hoang Hoa Tham fort of Parachutists. Desperate soldiers without commanding officers made their last fights before shot themselves. They were the last soldiers who died for the country. I didn't know if they were heroes or not, but I admired that action. I did not have courage doing so though I had planned by bringing home a gun. It was very hard to end my own life even in the most desperation.
Sounds of guns were less frequent. Streets became noisy. I didn't see any VC but some teenagers carrying M16 rifles and wearing red fabric bands on their sleeves driving many kinds of vehicle including military and civilian cars forfeited from escapees. People called them the "thirty's revolutionaries" -- those who took opportunity to become revolutionaries on April 30th, 1975. -- They used to be students or people-self-defense forces in the region. South Vietnam soldiers came home in shorts and T-shirts; their uniforms and weapons had been left somewhere in the streets. The appeal of the general Nguyen Huu Hanh from the Saigon radio for all South Vietnam soldiers and officers to stay at their positions waiting for hand-over to the VC was not effective; everyone sought a way to escape or to go home. Escapees went home in a hurry after had failed in their last try. The people stood in front of their houses trying to see the VC for the first time in their lives!
Soldiers and officers of South Vietnam were worried about their lives. The wealth worried about their properties, and the poor were waiting for an improvement as the promises of the Communists. All of those created a strangeness that I had not seen before. In the Mau Than New Year, the people ran away when they heard the VC coming. This time, they didn't know where to go because the VC conquered the whole country! Their destinies were no longer in their hands. They had to wait for anything to happen to them. The radio of Hanoi said that the VC troops were ordered not to take a needle or a string from the people, but someone joked that they wanted something better than a needle or a string. Some others joked that from now on they wouldn't worry about rockets of the VC anymore because the Liberation Front had freed Saigon! The endurance of the people was so high that they could be joking even in their desperation.
The appeal of the general Nguyen Huu Hanh and the voice of Trinh Cong Son singing the song “To Round the People's Arms” were sounded in turn from the Saigon Radio. Trinh Cong Son, a well-known composer of South Vietnam, in the years of 1960's- 1970's accompanied with Khanh Ly, a singer, to sing his anti-war songs in the universities of South Vietnam to push anti-government movements of students. Many times we had warned about those movements, but the government had no proof to put them down until Trinh Cong Son joined South Vietnam Army. Movements of singing anti-war songs still continued until that very first day, Trinh Cong Son appeared to be a Communist with his song to greet his "comrades" (From North to South we round our arms....). I didn't know anything about Nguyen Huu Hanh because I was not in the army. I also didn't know whether he was an Opportunist or a Communist.
Cars, uniforms, and weapons left everywhere in streets. Children played with rifles and M30 shells, and some accidents happened. People disassembled cars leaving by escapees and took any thing they could. Without sentries, traffics were jammed and disordered. Some youths wearing red-bands took place and tried to make everything in order.
Around noon, the VC took over the Saigon Radio and announced for the people to accept the unconditional surrender of the General Duong Van Minh, the last president of the so-called "pseudo government" of South Vietnam. That was the first time I heard the words pseudo-government and pseudo-armed-forces. At the same time, the Communists announced that Saigon became Ho Chi Minh City. I didn't hear the voice of Trinh Cong Son and Nguyen Huu Hanh any longer. The song “Saigon Rising in Revolt” took place, and that was also the first time Saigoneses heard a kind of Chinese-like music. Saigon was taken over by the so-called "Military Management Committee of Saigon" with the general Tran Van Tra as a chairman.
Some Molotovas -Soviet made military trucks- began to enter Saigon carrying North Vietnam troops in green uniforms with "non coi" --a kind of helmet of North Vietnam Armed Forces.-- People went into the streets to welcome the Communist soldiers who were so young and seemingly lost in the brightness of Saigon. The Saigoneses began their lives with the Communists and hid their worries. I could not figure out who had a true love!
Some people still carried merchandises stolen from abandoned warehouse on bicycles and motorcycles driving along with the people greeting the victor soldiers. The people in Saigon were less worried when they saw the clumsy and astonished soldiers of North Vietnam. Children became used to the VC and even got onto VC's tanks. Meanwhile, Saigon TV showed a Communist tank smash through the opened gates of the Presidential Palace; shot unmeaning to the building, and a VC flag was raised over the roof of the Palace. Tricolor flags of the Provisional Republic Government were hung everywhere. Some Chinese shops hung both the tricolor flag and the flag of Communists China.
The most terrible war in twenty years lasted easily. The winners were astonished, and the losers still did not believe in the truth! The Vietnam War was over, but what would happen after the war? South Vietnam officers waited for revenges. Whatever would happen, we had to accept because we had failed. Death would be the last thing. Yet for my people, especially for Saigoneses, what would happen when they used to live in freedom? The peace that the Communists brought to my country was seemingly uneasy for everyone even for the peoples who didn't have any connection with the old regime. The contradiction between North Vietnam soldiers and the people in Saigon was so obvious, especially from the appearance. The untidy uniforms and the so-called "dep rau" --rubber-thong slipper-- of the VC were hard to accept by the Saigoneses who used to be fashionable.
Not long after coming, the Military Management Committee of Ho Chi Minh City issued the edicts that changed the Saigon's way of life; anyone who were living in the American's way such as opening night clubs, entertainment centers, or dressing "ridiculously" would be punished. They cut the elephant-leg of trousers and long hairs of the youngsters. Traditional dress --ao dai-- and mini-robe were given up to Vietnamese blouses --ao ba ba-- and black trousers. Banners and shop-signs were changed into red background and yellow letters. Tu Du maternity hospital became the "Maternity Factory"! Nguyen Van Hoc Hospital became "Gia Dinh Popular Hospital".
The word "popular" was seen everywhere, Popular Armed Forces, Popular Police, Popular Government, and especially "Popular Court". Everything was popular, but the Communists ruled everything. On their papers, the VC always used the headline:
The Republic of South Vietnam
Independence, Peace, Neutral.
Yet no one believed that Vietnam was a Neutral Country but a Communists Country.
Thursday May 1st, 1975 --Mayday-- was also the Labor Day of the International Communists. The VC formed a huge march for their Armed Forces including tanks T-54 and PT-76, SAM missiles of the Soviet Union and almost all kinds of weapons from Communists Countries. Hundreds of thousand people in Saigon and suburb came to see the parade.
I drove my wife to her parents' home. Streets were crowded. Although I heard that some provinces in the Mekong plain were not surrender yet, the VC announced that they successfully freed the whole country. They arranged the parade in front of the old Presidential Palace to celebrate their victory. Streets were decorated by flags and banners in red, the color of blood. I saw slogans like: "Nothing is more valuable than independence and freedom", "Vietnam is unique, Vietnamese people are unique, rivers could be gone dry, mountains could be worn, but that truth is never altered". Most of the slogans were under named of Ho Chi Minh as the author. I didn't know if that was true, but I felt amusement for one that was also named Ho Chi Minh as the author --A plan for ten years is to grow tree, a plan for a hundred years is to grown human. -- I knew that precept had said by Kwan Dji Ngo, a Chinese philosopher in Eastern Zhou, fifth century BC. Pictures of Ho Chi Minh with a sentence --The great chairman Ho Chi Minh is living forever in our lives work-- were hung everywhere. Ho used to be the first Communist of Vietnam and an International Communist of the Soviet Union. He died in 1969 after failed in attempt to conquer South Vietnam in the Mau Than New Year. Southerner happened to understand what they used to hear about "Uncle and Party". In North Vietnam, there was nothing except "Uncle" --uncle Ho-- and "Party" --Communist Party--. For the people in North Vietnam, family, country, religions meant nothing but Uncle and Party! And then that became real for Southerners. I felt pity for my people. By issuing the decree about new way of life, the Communist rejected personal freedom of the people, and by closing all private newspapers, the Communist discarded the freedom of speech. What would happen next?
The streets turned red. Tricolor-flags of the Provisional Republic of South Vietnam Government intermingled with red flags of North Vietnam and flags of Communist China. Banners and shop-signs were painted in red too. The Saigoneses went along so fast with new life. Yet there still existed signs of the three-stripe flag of the Republic of Vietnam. The Communists didn't have time to erase them and some slogans such as "Don't hear what the Communist say; watch carefully what they are doing" or "To have the country is to have everything, to lose the country into Communists' hands is to lose everything". It seemed to be the evidence for those who wanted to witness acts of the Communists in following days.
The cruel war lasted easily, but I thought its consequences would not easily heal. For Southerners who used to live in freedom would not comfortably live in a dictatorial regime, especially the Communism.
My sister-in-law, Lan, and Linh, her husband, stayed in the house of my wife's parents. Linh told me that we had to show up at the Headquarters of our Organization on May 2nd due to the suggestion of Mr. Loc, the recent commissioner. I didn't know what I was going to do because I heard that the Communist who took over the Organization was Nguyen Ta, my partner who worked with me in the Section of Internal Affairs. Ta had hidden into a secret zone when we uncovered his shadow. I used to go with him to Da Lat when I followed the Third Power, but I thought he only knew my code name.
"I think we have to make a choice once because we can not hide forever. Our destiny is "a fish on a chopping board"; we have nothing to do but "to bet with the fate". Linh said.
“We seemed already dead from yesterday." I replied. "I didn't care about my life anymore, so I am going to go to the Organization with you to find out what would happen. Yet I feel unhappy for my wife."
We were looking at each other in silence. Linh and I had same situation because Lan, my sister-in-law, and my wife also worked for the Organization. I didn't know whether or not let my wife go along with me, but she didn't want to stay home to wait for me. She wanted to accept whatever happening for us together. Moreover, she could not hide anywhere because her files were left in her offices, and the Communists already knew everything about us.
Part 2
Re-education Camp Long Thanh
Chapt. 8 - Re-education
Almost all personnel of the Intelligence Organization who could not go away were showing up at the Headquarters on May 2nd 1975. We had to report ourselves to the so-called "The Military Administration Committee" of the "Provisional Revolutionary Government". Everyone tried to keep calm, but no one could hide the anxiety. Although people were crowded, a heavy silence covered the yard. Everyone whispered to each other and seemed to be worried about the conversation being heard by others. Tuan, Banh, and my agents such as Nhan, Trung, Tam, Tri, Lam, Vinh, were staying. They were single or nearly single and climbing onto a ship would be so easy. I thought they totally believed the Organization. An incomplete plan --or no plan at all-- of the Intelligence Agency led to a disaster like that!
After writing our names on a paper, my wife and I came to Lan and Linh, my sister-in-law and her husband. Last night we had destroyed our ID cards, so we could not submit them to the clerk sitting at the table. I didn't know the clerk, but someone told me that he was Khuong, a retired lieutenant colonel who used to be the chief of security in the Organization. I didn't know whether he was a "revolutionist" or an "opportunist"! I passed by Tuan and Banh; they looked at me and shook their heads without a word. I could not hear the laughter of Banh and Tuan. We gave each other bitter smiles instead.
That was the first time we had to squat down in line waiting for our turn to do the paper work. Long, a former employee of the Human Resources offices called us in turn to a table by the door of the Health Department next to the parking lot. We signed on the paper.
From May 2nd to June 14th, I had to see the Communists twice. The first time --I didn't remember the day-- they sent two people to my mother's house driving me to the "Tran Binh Trong" station. I had to write down my job in the years 1969-1972 when I was an undercover agent to follow the “General Association of Student of the University of Saigon” of Huynh Tan Mam. They kept me until 6pm and then drove me home. I had to give money for my lunch. The second time, they sent a letter asking me come to the safe house of my section at Phan Thanh Gian Street. I saw Nguyen Ta who took over the Organization. That was some day before June 13th 1975; I didn't do any thing at that time. Nguyen Ta told me to present myself for re-education due to the order of the Provisional Revolutionary Government (P.R.G.) in order to have the clemency of the Communist Regime.
Since then, the word "Re-education" was heard everywhere! Ideological Re-education (re-education of mind), re-education of the way of living (alter the way of living), re-education of the society (transform the society), re-education of the economy (transform the economy), and so on were announced everyday from radio and television. South Vietnam soldiers should be re-educated for three days, non-commissioned officers for seven days, officers from second lieutenant to captain for ten days and officers from major to general and medium and high rank cadres of intelligence services for a month. Our schedule was from June 13th to 15th, and the location was the Chu Van An High School. We had to contribute 14,000 VN dongs for food and brought mosquitoes curtain, blanket and clothes. The Communists chose schools for re-education location and set time logically for every rank. Although we didn't believe in what the Communists said, we tried to calm ourselves hoping that should be true. Otherwise, what could we do and where could we go?
June 13th, 1975 was Friday, an unlucky day! June 14th was Vietnamese "Doan Ngo" (the fifth day of the fifth month in Lunar Year), and that was also an unlucky day for Vietnamese! We chose June 14th, 1975 for our first day of re-education and hoped that an unlucky day of an unlucky event might be lucky! I didn't have any money left, so I had to pledge my wedding ring. It seemed to be a joke, but it was the truth that I experienced bitterly.
On the bus from my mother's house to Chu Van An High School, we met an old man; He asked me where we were going. I thought he saw our bundles, so I told him that we turned ourselves in for re-education. He smiled nervously and wished us good luck! I could not understand his smile at that moment, but later I knew that he felt pity for us. Not only two of us but also my unborn child was going into the re-education camp!
Chu Van An High School was my school in 12th grade. It was the year 1963 when the General Duong Van Minh did the coup d'état to kill the president Ngo Dinh Diem and began the chaos in South Vietnam. The US Armed Forces came into Vietnam after that. Twelve year later, I was coming back to my old school, and Duong Van Minh, who just helped the VC to take over South Vietnam, was staying next door in the Minh Mang Students' dormitory.
My friends and my associates were standing in front of the school. Lan and Linh, my wife's sister and brother-in-law had given in yesterday. They left their two boys for my parents-in-law. Looking at the pregnancy of my wife, I asked myself how she could endure a month of re-education even if that would be a month! Yet I thought everyone had his or her own difficulty. Moreover, we were almost already dead since the day of "revolution". The rest was only hopelessness. Life without hope was waiting for death to free the soul. With that thinking I came into the school after joked to our friends that who entered earlier would leave earlier.
The Chu Van An high school stood across from the Cathedral of "Nga Sau" (hex-crossroad), at Minh Mang Street in the 5th district of Saigon. From the school, I could see the building of the Association of Students of the University of Saigon at Hong Bang Street where I had usually come from 1969 to 1975. There were two two-story buildings in the school. My wife and I were sent to the first building. My wife stayed in the first room reserved for women, which used to be my classroom twelve years ago. My first thought was that there was a coincident in my life. I stood in the corridor looking at the cathedral where I used to play with my friends. My friends were still there, but they were not my old friends when I was a schoolboy. Some of them were leaving; others walked in a hurry across the street into the "school".
The "classroom" where I stayed was empty. I set my sedge-mat on the floor where once a stage for teacher had been. We shared an area of three by six feet for each. My military kit bag became my pillow, and it went along with me until I came back home seventeen years later. In the kit bag I got a military curtain, a military blanket, two blue Jeans, two shirts, a military can, a jacket, a poncho, ten packs of instant noodles, dried rice, dried meat and medicines including Tylenol, Penicillin, Diarrhea, Quinine and Band-Aids. I prepared to live in a jungle not in a city. I forgot a hammock that should be useful for me later. The classroom reminded me my friends. Some had been killed in the war; others were still living out there or in a re-education camp just like me.
I came to the room where my wife was living. Everyone in that room helped her to make a place next to her sister's. Ngoc, Lieu, Ba, the ladies who used to work with my wife in the Human Resources department promised me to take care of my wife whenever she needed. I left my wife after a while and went for my friends.
We talked about the word "re-education", but no one dared to realize the truth that re-education meant nothing but revenge. The word "brain-washing" and the book "the Dam Dun camp" written by an author in South Vietnam were some things that I had known about re-education of the Communists, but the truth was still in mystery for me. We knew that after the revolution of Lenin in the Soviet Union, hundred of thousands "Cossacks" had been sent to Siberia and had died there! After the Communists conquered China, they sent hundred of thousands of Chinese Democratic to Tan Cuong. We didn't know anything about Vietnamese people after Ho Chi Minh took over North Vietnam. Were they dead or still in the camps in North Vietnam? How the Communists of Vietnam treated their enemies? I didn't think the Communists would massacre us like Hitler had done in Nazi's holocausts because they didn't want to be a goal for public indignation, but killing step by step was a plan that they could executive without opposition. Coming into re-education camp, we had to accept everything even death.
"Brain-washing" and "Re-education" are two words having similar meaning! How did the Communists "brain-wash" their enemies? In the early days, the Communists usually said about ideological re-education. They said that the people in South Vietnam who had lived with American Empire and the Pseudo-Government of South Vietnam for a long time had to be altered their minds for getting along with new society, the Social Socialism! Yet how to re-educate was still a question. They had different ways to treat people. Youth had to cut their elephant trousers; women no longer wear "ao dai" (traditional dress) and make-up. They prohibited "Yellow music" and burned books edited in South Vietnam. The people had to work. The Communists called that "transform the society". Personnel of the old regime had to learn about the so-called "evil crime" of the American Empire and Pseudo-Government and the victories of the revolution and of the socialism. The Communists called that "ideological re-education". Although we didn't think it was so simple like that, we hoped things would not be so bad. In such a worse situation we tried to calm ourselves by thinking of a better side. We could not go away, could not hide anywhere; we had to give our lives in our enemies' hands by entering into the so-called re-education camps.
Chapt. 9 - Nonsense.
Some mini-vans having the signs of the restaurants in Saigon such as "Back Here", "Dai La Thien", "Dong Khanh", and “Mandarin" entered the school. Waiters and waitresses in white uniforms set foods on the tables in the front yard. The voice from a loud speaker hanging by the first building called "campers" to have dinner!
The campers who have given in from yesterday came easily to their tables, but new campers hesitatingly followed. I took some foods on the table of the "Back Here" restaurant and came to have dinner with my wife. My sister-in-law told me "they" explained yesterday that our dinners were from our money. They didn't have kitchen, so they bought foods from the restaurants. The explanation was so simple and reasonable, but seeing their soldiers guarding around the school having dinner in their mess kit with rice, boiling vegetable and fish sauce, we confused! What they were doing? What nonsense! Was that another tactic to blindfold the people in Saigon and to spread the humanitarian of the Communists?
After the Vietnam War was over, correspondents of foreign countries were still watching and informing about the post war period of the country. The Vietnam War was the greatest war after the Second World War. The Communists should take any chance to spread their propaganda to the whole world just like they had done this during the war. Foreign correspondents were always their means to do this tactic. Who knew what would happen behind the iron curtain? I didn't think they treated us like that for nothing. The Communists always did something to cover some other. What would happen to us after they reached their purpose?
Chapt. 10 - The First Move.
At about 6pm, I was sitting by my wife when someone came to tell her to leave the school for her expectation. She was in her ninth month of pregnancy. I thought it would be better for her, but I didn't know how she would be without me. I brought her suitcase and walked her to the front gate. I said goodbye and hoped to see her after a month. I saw her getting onto a pedicab and came back into the school. I could never see my child when he or she first came into the world! I could never take care of my wife, my "fragile", in her labor! Yet I felt happy for her not endure her pain in the camp at least.
Everyone was watching me. Some came to say congratulation for my wife and words to comfort me, and then we talked about our future after the VC released my wife. The Chu Van An High School was close to the Hong Bang maternity hospital; if we stayed in that school, it would be so easy to send my wife to the hospital when she gave birth. No one said anything, but we were ready for a change!
Six buses entered the school at around 7pm. The VC told us to prepare for a trip to a re-education camp. We weren't amazed but didn't know where we would go, a jungle or an island like Phu Quoc or Con Non where used to be the cells for political prisoners and serious crime inmates. We talked about the trip because we were almost ready. About 8pm, two men wearing civilian clothes and North Vietnamese Armed Forces helmet giving themselves as Mr. Bay and Mr. Tu came to name us in the order from team one to team six and said that we were going to leave the school for a re-education camp. No body dared to ask where the camp was! We waited until midnight. The buses still parked in the dark front yard. Nobody could sleep though we were tired after a day of tension. Campers only whispered to each other scared that the others could overhear their conversations, but in the silence, even the noise of a mosquito was heard clearly. We worried about the location of the next re-education camp and about what would happen in that camp.
The lights in the front yard suddenly brightened up. Everyone seemed to be waiting for that moment, stood up and looked at the yard. Some carried their bundles to the balcony. Mr. Bay and Mr. Tu named the campers one more time and told them to come to the car reserve for their team. I went to the third bus for the third team. I didn't worry about anything anymore. Anything happened I would accept it by myself. I didn't worry about my wife and my unborn child at least.
The convoy left the school at 2AM in the direction of Bay Hien crossroad. The city was quiet. First, I thought we were going to Tay Ninh or to the war zone D of the VC, but the convoy straightened at the Bay Hien crossroad and turned right to the "Korean" highway. Then the convoy turned left on the Saigon-BienHoa Highway. Why "they" took a long way like that to come to the highway instead of went straight on Phan Thanh Gian Street. They wanted to confuse us about the location of the camp perhaps! The convoy arrived at the so-called "Long Thanh Orphanage Village" at about 7am. It took almost five hours to drive the distance about thirty miles only to hide a location that we already knew.
Chapt. 11 - The "Long Thanh" re-education camp
From 1968 to 1971, a Communist named Tu Su, under the coat of Buddhist Monk, had founded and managed the Long Thanh Orphanage Village. He used orphans to raise money for the VC and formed a group of armed men to fight against any attempts to enter the village. The South Vietnamese Government could not solve that problem for a while. If the Government attacked the village, which would be attacking the orphans, if not it became more dangerous to the Government.
I had come along with the people in the “Third Power” to the Orphanage Village once in 1971 when I shadowed as a correspondent for the Saigon Post Newspaper. What I had seen made me so angry. Children in bare feet and skinheads worked under the heat of the sun in the field, and they had only one vegetarian meal a day as the rule of Buddhism monks. Skinny orphans had to wear yellow coat and bare feet bare head stood under the sun welcoming the leaders of the Third Power! They used orphans to collect money, and children became the shield for them.
After the attack of the S.W.A.T. team, the Government took over the "Village", rescued the orphans; the "Orphanage Village" became the camp for the "Victims of the war in Binh Long" where I had come once again in 1972 to give gifts for the victims upon the behalf of the "Association of Students of the College of Science to Relieve the Victims of War". That association was a "previous life" of the first "Committee of Students of the College of Science".
There was no sign to indicate the re-education camp at the gate. I saw the slogan "Nothing is more valuable than independence and freedom" as we used to see everywhere after April 30th, 1975. The convoy stopped in the middle of the "main road". It was a red clay road about fifteen feet wide and haft mile long from the gate to the last building. The camp stayed on the top of the hill. There was no well. They used tank-cars to transport water to the camp. We saw the campers standing in line behind a tank-car when we arrived. Some of them waved to the convoy greeting new campers.
Ten one-storied houses stood parallel each other by both sides of the main road, five on each side, two at the end of the road and two others close to the gate. Each house was divided into two cells, and each cell held about a hundred campers in two teams. There were four doorframes and eight window frames in every cell.
They divided the campers into four blocs. The first bloc called “the government bloc” for the personnel of the Government of South Vietnam from Chief of Service to President, the second bloc "the bloc of parties" for the members from secretary to head of the political parties in South Vietnam. The third bloc called “the intelligence bloc” for those who used to work in the intelligence services from middle to high rank, and the forth bloc “the police bloc” for police officers from captain to general.
Five houses on the right side of the road were reserved for the first bloc. The campers in the third bloc stayed in the last three houses on the left side and the forth bloc in two others. Two houses at the end of the road were the cells for women and the house close to the gate for the second bloc. Another building close to the gate was used as the hall.
About fifty campers in a team were divided to four groups. Each group had to set a place in one row. There were four rows in every cell, two by the walls and two in the middle of the cell. The campers who stayed by the wall lay their heads to the wall, and who stayed in the middle of the cell lay their heads to each other. The space between the middle row and the wall row was a walkway.
Two extra rooms at both ends of every house that used to be the dining rooms for orphans became the meeting room for cadres and team leaders.
At first, the camp didn’t have any fence. Early 1976, they built the walls surrounding every house, two walls by both sides of the main road and the walls surrounding the houses for women. In the mean time, they drilled a well and pumped water to every house. The Long Thanh camp was increasingly reinforced.
Chapt. 12 - The first day in the first camp
I belonged to the second group in the third team of the third bloc, so I had to come into the first cell of the forth house on the left side of the road. There was nothing in the cell. I set my sedge-mat on the floor in the middle of the room to have my place.
The first thing that I thought of was water! I didn’t have a water container, so I had to look for anything possible to hold water. I went around the camp and found a sheet of tin-plated metal that used to be the roof of a house for victims of the war. I didn't know how to make a bucket from the metal sheet, so I bent it by both sides and then folded the other two sides to become a square container. My first container was leaking. I went around again collecting anything to weld the holes and found a steel helmet, a tarpaper sheet, some nails, and some two-by-six timbers. I burned the tarpaper to get tar for filling the holes in my container and then nailed two timbers by both sides. I already got the container but could not carry it by myself. I asked Diep who stayed next to me bring water together. That afternoon, we had the first container full of water. That was late of June, and the rainy season began. We made two more containers the same way. After the first experience, we made them better. Some weeks later, I could even make a can from a sheet of metal, and that supposed to be my first lesson!
There was no restroom in the camp. I only saw the barbed wire fence surrounding the camp that I could creep through easily. The only blockhouse stood by front the gate. I needed a spade or a hoe and get through the fence not to escape but to "shit" only! The camp had been an orphanage village, so to find it was easy.
Then I wondered where I could take a bath? I wasn’t used to bathing out door, and there were women in the camp too! I came to an abandoned cottage, which used to be a temporary shelter for victims of the war, but some women stood there waiting. I had to leave that cottage for them and took a bath in the open air with my shorts on. For surviving in the camp, I should quickly get used to any circumstance, and that was my second lesson!
Team leaders called the campers to get dinner. That was my turn, so I got in line going to the kitchen. The kitchen was a cottage about twenty-five feet wide by fifty yards long with colonnades and a tin-plated metal sheets roof. Two clay stoves with six lips of furnace lay along the cottage, one for rice steaming and the other for food cooking. There was a big pan on every furnace, and I saw the cooks shoveled rice and food. Some campers said that the cooks worked for the contractor, but I thought they were spies working for the intelligence service of the VC. In the camp keeping mostly VIP’s of the old regime, the Communists should take chance to collect information helpful for them.
I got a bucket of rice, and my group mate got a pail of pumpkin soup. Next, I had to share equally the rice with twelve campers in my group. I told my group mates to put their cans on the floor and then used my military can to measure rice. My group mate also did that for the soup. That was the first time we shared our dinner with each other.
That brown rice with plenty of paddies used to be pets' food. The "soup" contained of some slices of pumpkin and some peanuts seasoned by salt and green onion. I had to pick paddies out of the rice to prevent stomachache!
The clanks from the headquarters let us know that a day in re-education camp was over. That was the sound of a bombshell hanging on tree being drummed by a hammer. Since then, I had to get used to the clanks, waking up, going to work, break time, and so on. Living in the camps meant nothing except doing what the "clanks" and the "cadres" told us to do, and that was my third lesson in the first day in re-education camp.
We had to get into our mosquitoes-net after the clanks were over, but campers still whispered to each other. Everyone wanted to share his story with his friend. I fell in a deep sleep after a while thinking of my wife and my unborn child.
Chapt. 13 - Ten Lessons.
The clanks busted the air of the hill. We got up when a "cadre" named Bay came into the cell and told the campers to come to the hall after breakfast. He said that would be our first "class". I brushed my teeth, washed my face and waited for my first "breakfast", a bowl of rice-gruel and some salt. I relished it because I was so hungry.
Some even stood in line before hearing the clanks. Campers in the first bloc went to the hall when the clanks just began. They had their breakfast earlier because they stayed close to the kitchen. There were plenty of campers in the hall when I came in. The hall used to be the training room for orphans when the camp was the Orphanage Village. It was about a hundred yards long by forty yards wide. There was a table and some chairs at the end of the hall. A tricolor flag of the National Liberal Front and a picture of Ho Chi Minh were hung on the wall with a slogan "The great chairman Ho Chi Minh is living forever in our lifework" underneath. A slogan: "Nothing is more valuable than independence and freedom" stretched across the left wall and a slogan "Vietnam is unique, Vietnamese people are unique, rivers could be gone dry, mountain could be worn, but that truth will never be changed" on the right.
I sat on my slippers. Some cadres in civilian and yellow helmets came and sat at the table. A cadre introduced "comrade" Hai Con as a chief of the camp. He asked us to stand up and take off our hats welcoming Hai Con. Hai Con was about fifty years old, pale and skinny, about five feet seven inches high. His voice harmonized with the howling of the speakers. In his speech, Hai Con said that in order to have the clemency from “the Party and the State” we had to be re-educated to become good citizens. For the beginning, we had to learn ten lessons about the history of Vietnam, mainly the history of the so-called "revolution". He said that Vietnamese people were the heroes who had fought and won the three greatest imperialists in the world: French Colonists, Japanese Fascists, and especially American Imperialists. American Imperialist was an international police, a leader of Capitalists, and Capitalists was a leech with two sucker heads; one sucked the blood of its people and the other the blood of the people in its colonies. The Imperialism was dying, and the three "revolution falls" were stronger than ever. The so-called "revolution falls" as Hai Con noted were the revolution to free people in colonies, the revolution of democracy, and the revolution of socialism. The Vietnamese people, after won the American Imperialists, completed the revolution to free the people. Next was democratization and moving forward to socialism. In addition, he said, to love the country is to love the socialism! (I was truly amazed with that definition!)
We had to applause following the claps of Hai Con himself at each pause. It was the strangeness that made us so confused.
For us, who used to serve in the so-called pseudo-government and pseudo-armed forces of South Vietnam, he said that we were guilty to go against the people and the revolution. We were servants of the American Imperialists. Therefore, we had to be re-educated to become citizens of Vietnam. We should no longer live depending on others and had to work for our lives. Re-education included re-education of mind and of action.
Hai Con said that "labor" was a scale to measure the process of campers. Our country was rich and beautiful with forest of gold and ocean of silver (!) Our people were heroic. Trung Sisters and Quang Trung had won the Chinese dynasties; especially Ho Chi Minh's generation had won the three greatest Imperialists. We had to work for the wealthy of our country and for the equality to other development countries.
The speech of Hai Con was fluently as if he had learned it so well. Sometimes, he used some poems of Ho Chi Minh to cite his speech. We silently listened. Yet the main thing we wanted to know was still a puzzle. How they treated us? We didn't think that we only learned ten lessons and doing labor although we wanted everything to happen just like that.
The speech of Hai Con was over; a deputy "cadre" named Bao let us knows a schedule for the days coming. We were going to attend the class in the mornings and to discuss in our cells in the afternoons.
Chapt. 14 - Getting used to with the camp
Life in the camp in our early days was struggles to adapt with the new situation. Sleeping on the ground, our backs were painful. We tried to avoid rheumatism by not sleeping directly on the floor. I folded my poncho and lay under my sedge-mat and used an old blanket found in an abandoned shed as my mattress. I save everything collected around the camp for later use. Fabric from sandbag was materials for mending clothes, blanket, mosquitoes net and so on. Even a small steel rod could become a needle.
After some days of hard works, my slippers were torn. Having a piece of vehicle tire, I thought of VC's rubber-thong slippers, a "dep rau" as Vietnamese called it. I took off a piece of steel from my military kit bag, ground it on the floor to make a knife and cut the tire into slipper shape, chiseled eight holes holding four belts. They looked like slippers. Although they were not as good as I wanted, I wore that for nearly ten years. Some campers produced slippers exchanging with the others.
Searching for usable stuff became more popular. Started by young campers, and then it spread to everyone. Although the camp used to be the orphanage village and the camp for victims of the war having aided by many sources, especially the US humanity aid, materials became shorter. Some campers crept out of the fence looking for useful things, but no one escaped. Everyone was hoping for a month of re-education would last and came back home!
To have a toilet at least for women, we suggested the "warden” let us build two "restrooms". We pulled down two cottages, got timbers and metal sheets, dug two big holes close to the fence and built two temporary houses having ten "toilets" in each one. We called them latrines instead. Without toilet paper, the campers used anything possible to clean up, even leaves and water. Those latrines were nastier and nastier even though we spread kitchen ashes everyday. Fly-worms were everywhere. Infectious diseases started in the camp, especially cholera and prurigo. The dispensary was formed having many physicians such as Van Van Cua (used to be a mayor of Saigon). Without medicine, campers used leaves and grass to cure diseases, boiling guava leaves for cholera when drinking and for prurigo when bathing, some grass for beriberi and so on. Doctor Van Van Cua became an acupuncture physician. Some campers joked by changing the Vietnamese "To eat vegetable in hunger and to overcome (instead of taking medicine) the sickness!" Some said that they had to used "AKcillin" and "CKC" instead of "Penicillin" and "APC" for curing their diseases! (AK and CKC were two kinds of weapon of the VC).
To improve our meals, we began to grow sweet potato with some potato-vines collecting from the wasted land. To have water for potato, we dug holes and ditches next to the bathrooms. Potatoes were added in our meals, and potato leaves were vegetable.
We had to go to the hall every morning for ten lessons. Yet after three days, campers were boring. I realized that the cadres said like parrots what they had been stuffed up. All of them spoke the same things. What we had heard from Hai Con, we had to hear again and again, but we could not ask anything opposing. For example in a lesson “History of the Development of Human-beings", they said that society of human beings proceeded from Original-Communism to Slave systems, to Feudal systems, to Capitalism, to Socialism, and then to Communism. We could not ask what would happen after Communism. For them, Communism was the highest; the society would be no more changing after that! What a funny idea! But we had to accept and discuss in that way only.
The first lesson was "American Empire is the Conqueror". We attended two classes from seven to noon, and to discuss at cells in the afternoons. The instructor was a "cadre" in the "politburo". They wanted a high "cadre" to "teach" us because we were the highest rank personnel in the "pseudo-government". Nothing was different from what Hai Con said. For the discussion, we had to judge about "the crimes of the American Empire" in the whole world and especially in the Vietnam War. The "My Lai" massacre, the so-called "the destruction of North Vietnam by US air forces", the blockade of North Vietnam Bay by mines, the destruction of the "orange toxic" in South Vietnam, and so on, were some subjects. But more importantly, we had to talk about the hidden depositories of weapons and supplies that the American still buried in South Vietnam. For the former intelligence officers, they wanted to know the plans of the American after the war and the under cover agents whom the American left in Vietnam. I thought the discussions aimed at the strategic objects of the Americans after the Vietnam War. There was always a cadre in every group, and we had to turn in a writing note about our discussion.
After the first lesson we were free in two days. We had to learn some "revolutionary songs" such as "Emancipation for South Vietnam", "The Truong Son cane", "Eastern Truong Son, Western Truong Son". (Truong Son is a long mountain chain that stretches from North to South Vietnam where the Ho Chi Minh trails goes along). Those who had never sung before had to do it without exceptions.
Besides, we also learned a "famous" song named -The Merry Day Has Been Coming Up- of Vu Thanh An, a well-known composer of South Vietnam and also a former chief of service of the Department of Information. The last sentence of that song was: "The merry day has been coming up; we rebuild our lives. Thanks to the Revolution, we promise to become good citizens." I thought it was too early to have a flattering like that, but every camper had his or her own way to live in the camp. People said that some campers could not play a heroic role by opposing the Communists, but they didn't know that we got no government, no country, and no supporters. The campers had nothing except their lives, and those no longer belonged to them as well. I also thought that I could not do anything, could not hide anywhere. Any opposition would be a suicide; any flattering would be ridiculous. To play a hero in the camp was useless. My way would be "holding my breath to cross the river!” I just wanted to survive to see my family again and not cowardly to sell my soul.
After Vu Thanh An, some others such as Deo Chanh Mun in the first bloc, Bach Van Nghia in the third bloc and so on, composed many songs, and the campers had to sing them. The lyrics of those songs usually talked about labor in the camp or the victory of the VC.
"Let's do the best for our re-education;
"Bring our love to join our hands,
"Build our futures by our merry!
Whether that was the true thinking or a flattering, campers composed many songs in those days than any other time. I thought the reason was that we didn’t work yet and still hoped to come back home after a month!
We had to sing in every evening before sleep. Some campers learned the songs in the hall and taught the others one sentence at a time. Campers had to sing in turn, no exception; therefore we knew thoroughly most of the songs.
A song named "American Invader" became a humor because it had the lyric "Oh, Abrams have been baffled and sad". Baffled in Vietnamese has the same pronunciation with pumpkin. Some campers used that word to stand for a meal they ate every day, the soup of pumpkin and peanut. And then they named that soup the Abrams soup
After two days, the warden wanted us continue singing for the rest of time in the Long Thanh Camp. I didn't known how many songs we had to learn. Some I still remember such as "Saigon rising in revolt", "East Vam Co, West Vam Co", "It seems to have Uncle Ho in the merry day of our great victory", and so on. When Vietnam was reunified, we no longer sang the song "Emancipation for South Vietnam" and replaced it by “The Song of Marching Troop", the National Anthem of North Vietnam. Yet, we had to sing the song named "It seems to have Uncle Ho in the merry day of our great victory" in any camp. In the hall, when beginning or stopping any event, especially after the meetings, we had to sing that song. Someone defined that song as “the song of aurevoir". Sometimes in the “restroom”, I heard someone changing the name of that song to “It seems to have a fly-worm in the nasty latrine of the re-education camp". That was brave because cadres usually said that any speaking ill of Ho was a serious crime.
We were amazed when they let us sing the song named “Voluntary” of Mien Duc Thang, a composer of South Vietnam.
"If I was a bird, I should be a white dove"
"If I was a flower, I should be a sunflower"
"If I was a cloud, I should be a warm cloud"
"Being a human, I should die for my country"
Cadres said that the lyrics of that song were from a poem of Ho Chi Minh. I didn't know if it was true, but I thought everything was from Ho! The defying of leaders was an insult to the Communists in the whole world, not only the VC.
The second lesson, "The Pseudo-Government was a Servant" was interpreted in two morning, but we had to discuss in a week. After two afternoons, mostly to confess our crimes and to denounce our accomplices, the campers chose Diep and me to draw the diagram of the Central Intelligence Organization. Our former leaders such as Loc, the commissioner, Thuy, the chief of R (department of study), Phong, the chief of Z (department of internal affairs), Luong, the chief of A10 (department of the combination of information), Trang, chief of A8, Cang, the former commissioner, Quan, chief of Y (department of supplement), and so on gave us information
In the mean time, the campers had to write down their autobiographies. Cadres came to the cells everyday to persuade the campers to write sincerely their crimes in order to have the clemency of the Party and the State. Some campers could not remember something, they asked each other about things they had done together and wrote it down in their papers.
When the VC moved the high leaders to the Thu Duc camp, Diep and I had to stop the diagram and wrote the autobiographies. The most complicated for me was that I didn’t know about my agents after April 30th. Therefore, I wrote down what I had done and whom I saw in the camp or already gone abroad. I let go any one whom I didn't see or know exactly their whereabouts. I thought the VC should ask about that later, so I save a copy for myself.
When writing our autobiographies, we had some meat in our meal, and the VC said that they “enriched” us for our "brain-labors"! Many words we hadn't heard in Vietnamese language. When we had some meat they called it "fresh nutrition". When we grew vegetable or collected some wild vegetable, they called it "improvement". When they forced us to work on Sunday, they called it "Labor for Socialism"! And that Sunday, we had to do our first "Labor For Socialism" in the camp. Those having hoes had to rebuild the main road, digging the ditches along both sides of the road and using soil to cover potholes on the road. The others used their bare hands to pull out grass and to clean up the camp and the headquarters.
Campers usually hid their thinking but could not hide their anxious about the end of re-education. When cadres gave the campers boards to make plank-bed, some worried that they were going to stay longer than a month. When cadres wanted the campers to grow cassava, some said that they had to stay at least six months because manioc took at least six months to have roots. To answer for that worries, cadres always said that "the Policy of the Party and the State was unique; those who had progress should leave early". I heard that explanation more often and didn't believe.
I tried to get busy all day not to think of my family, but when getting in bed, everything appeared clearly in my mind. How were my wife and my unborn child? A hundred questions haunted my mind. I tried to write a diary but could not succeed because I was not used to doing that. Nights in the camp were too long. Never sleeping on the floor before, I could not sleep well at first; I tried to take deep breaths and to count from one to a hundred and then repeated again and again until fell into a sleep. After a week, I got used to it, and I could easily sleep when I came to bed. Moreover, I tried to keep busy all day long. If not doing what they told me to do, I took care my sweet potatoes, brought water, and did some necessities for my life. After a group meeting, I was tired and slept easily. I knew that sleep would be valuable, so I trained myself to get a habit of sleeping easily, tried not to think of any thing in bed times. It helped me to be healthy enough to get over many difficulties.
Linh, my sister-in-law's husband was moved to the Thu Duc camp, which used to be the detention camp for women. Lan, my sister-in-law was still in the Long Thanh camp, so I had to help her sometimes. Life of women in the camp was more complicated. Seeing them, I thought of my wife and was glad she didn’t stay. Also a lot of questions came up about her. I remembered when my wife had miscarried. I drove her to an emergency room and waited outside. I hadn't heard her screams. Someday later, she said that she had tried to keep her mouth shut although she had so much pain. She didn't want me to worry. I didn't know what she did when I wasn't with her in her giving birth? I felt pity for her thinking of a Vietnamese folk song about the loneliness of a woman in giving birth that: "Everyone has a partner in the ocean, but I am all alone!"
After the second lesson, the campers waited for the next but didn't have any in a week. Everyone hoped to finish ten lessons and go home! Cadres explained to the campers that they were waiting for cadres from Hanoi.
Campers worried about another transfer. That Saturday evening, in a movie out door, Hai Con said that there would be no more transferring and campers had to focus on the re-education in order to have the clemency of "the Party and the State". The warden and the cadres from "central" were studying the autobiographies and should interview some campers before the next lesson.
The movie was about the Dien Bien Phu battle and revealing some heroes who used their bodies to stop the canon not to go downhill when the pulling ropes had broken, or some others who used their bodies to cover loopholes. The victory of Dien Bien Phu battle was a great pride of the VC, but in that film, the people had sacrificed so much for that victory. With only human, the people had to confront machine guns, tanks and airplanes. They were not Communists. They were only the normal people who loved and sacrificed for their country. The Communists took advantage the patriotism of the people to take power and then said that to love the country means to love Socialism! What plainly bizarre connection! The Communists usually said: "Our bare hands could do every thing. With our labor, we could make gravels and stones become rice" or "Youth in need, youth in difficulty." Those slogans were just labels to exploit on the people. They took the interests of the people in North Vietnam for thirty years, and then it was the turn of the people in South Vietnam. Labor for Socialism was nothing but unpaid working.
The day after, we discussed that film and compared the victory of the Dien Bien Phu battle to the victory of the so-called "Ho Chi Minh Historical Campaign" to liberate South Vietnam on April 30th, 1975. Under the control of cadres, the discussion later became the confession of our "crimes" in preventing the paces of that campaign. I understood that everything in the camp was going to be in that manner, and I had to accept that without thinking. My behavior would be speaking as little as possible, I advised myself thinking of a story that I had learned in my elementary school. We have only one mouth with two jobs, eating and speaking and two ears with only job, hearing. Why don't we speak less and listen more; don't let the mouth to be overdone!
Some days later, the VC sent away a camper in the first bloc. Cadres explained that he had debt of blood to the people in his old region, and they sent him to a popular trial. I didn't know what happened to him later, but I knew about "popular court" of the Communists since the time of "land reform" after they took over North Vietnam. Defendants could not say anything; accusers and judges were under the conduct of the VC. The VC also said that they kept us in the camps to protect us because the people were very angry at our crimes against the revolution! Thanks for the kindness of "revolutionaries!” We were under the protection of our enemies and under the clemency of the Party and the State. So many fine words were used to explain an act of revenge. I remembered a song of Pham Duy, a well-known composer in South Vietnam, having a term "a basket of words", and an idiom of Vietnamese "honey mouth, sword heart" to apply for those who used fine words to cover their ill intentions. I gradually used to living in re-education camp. I didn't know if I could be alive until leaving the camp, but I would try with all my best. I also knew that any hopelessness should lead to a failure.
Ly Muoi Liem, a policewoman, a major of the Police Forces was the first camper who left the camp for handling the operation of the computer center in the headquarters of Police. The transfer of the high leaders to the Thu Duc camp was next, and then a camper was sent to a popular trial. What would happen for us? We were worried but didn't know what to do.
Chapt. 15 - The First Month in the Camp.
The struggle with life in the camp helped me to adapt step by step with difficulties. I used to live in poverty since my childhood, but the life in the camp was very hard for me. I didn't know how the people who used to live comfortably could adjust to that. The Long Thanh camp kept mostly high rank personnel of the Government of South Vietnam. The alternative between two opposite ways of life was shocking. Some former ministers, under-secretaries, had to do hard works like the others did. The VC didn't allow us to recall our past. They said that they wanted us to be "equal", but I thought they wanted to create a contradiction between us so that they could manage us easier. In our autobiographies, some campers still used the word Mister for their old leaders; the VC asked them rewrite and use some impolite words such as "guy", "he", and “him" instead. I want to notice here that the use of pronunciation in Vietnamese language is very complicated; it's very impolite to call a person whom we were respecting as "he", or "him" or "you" instead of Mr., Mrs. or Sir and Madame. We had to use the words "pseudo-government" and "pseudo-armed forces" instead of RVN government and ARVN. I had to rewrite my autobiography for that reason as well.
When speaking to "cadres", we had to stand at attention in front of them by three paces distance and hold our hats in our hands. We had to call officers in the camp by "cadre" and call ourselves by "I" and "me". When seeing a cadre, we had to salute him by remove our hats and bow our heads. Overall, we had to pay them our respect and get used to obeying their commands. The better way was to avoid contacts with the VC as much as possible. The VC didn't let us call ourselves prisoners and said that we were coming into the camp to be re-educated, not to be imprisoned! We called ourselves campers instead.
Campers had to attend a meeting in team before sleep. Team leader reported the daily activities in the team, in the group, and in the bloc, and also informed things that cadres wanted us to know. And then campers criticized each other and self-criticized. That was new for us at first, but cadres asked us do that seriously. We tried to find anything of ourselves and of the others and recalled it in the meetings. For some reasons, we also tried to find something not important and let go any serious problems. Sometimes, I had to say that I still got homesick, still remembered my wife, still worried about my unborn child, not to ease my mind enough. Some campers criticized the others for falling asleep in the class or in discussion, or playing sick not to go to class or not to do something else. Every small thing became a subject for criticism. Little by little, campers became turtles hiding their heads into their shells. Day after day, criticisms became self-criticism with minor infractions such as homesick, not paid attention in the class, speaking in the class, not knowing the song, and so on, and then the others criticized those infractions and the camper who gave self-criticism promised to overcome. When being criticized, campers had to admit their faults and promised to correct them; if not, there would be other meetings until they accepted. That was the way of "criticism and self-criticism" of the Communists. Besides, we had to write a report sending to cadres after the meeting. I discovered later that "criticism and self-criticism" was the way of the Communists to control each other, not only in the camp but also in any other organization of the Communists.
Living together for some days, we knew that there were some spies mingling in our bloc. Phong, Ba, Lam, for examples, were the ones we didn't know their origins. Although they said that they used to work for the Central Intelligence Organization, they didn't know anything about the Organization and no one among us knew them. We told each other not to talk too much with them because we suspected that they were the VC who wanted to get information from us. However, how could we prevent totally our carelessness? Cadres knew almost everything that we did or said. That created suspicions for each other, and some were suspected "antennae", the campers who reported everything in the camp to cadres. From "criticism and self-criticism" to the "suspicions of antennae", campers became more and more selfish and self-limited in their own shells. No one dared to unload the heart to another. The VC didn't need to separate the campers, but campers separated themselves. By starving campers, the Communists made the campers not think of anything else but their stomach. By creating the suspicions of each other, the Communists got success in dividing campers so they easily managed the campers. They didn't need a fence to surround campers, didn't need to lock campers in cells, the campers locked themselves with a slender hope to be freed after a month.
I believed in that lies at first. I hoped that I could see my child after a month, but deep down in my heart, I didn't think that would be true. I thought they would sent us to somewhere else, as Ho Chi Minh Trail or the jungles in the Central of Vietnam, to build roads or rails for the reconstruction of Vietnam after the war. The price that I would pay was my life, but at least I had an opportunity to serve my people. My life no longer belonged to me. I should die with the Republic of Vietnam on April 30th, but I didn't have enough courage to end my life. I threw away my handgun into the Thanh Da River and gave myself in. What I was expecting was only a miracle. We didn't have any one who helped us. Our government no longer existed. Our allies deserted. Having a fence or not was meaningless because we didn't know where we could go. The country was under the control of the Communists. North was Red China, west Kampuchea and Laos under Communists' regimes, and east the Pacific Ocean. Where would we go if we escaped from the camp? I thought only a miracle could save us! If the Communists didn't lie, we would go into the camps anyway because we didn’t know where to go. Yet with their tactics, they kept us in the camp without any attempt to escape; we hopelessly expected to leave the camp in a month or so. The simple fence around the camp and the cells wide open could not keep us, but their lies was the main thing that kept us staying in the camp. We weren’t familiar with that kind of systematic lies. What a successful tactic!
Diep, my friend staying next to me in the cell, in his poem for his wife had a sentence that I would come back in a month or a year! I thought that was the thinking of the campers in the very first month. Although no one believed in a month, they only thought of a year at most.
In addition, we knew nothing about the new society except over some newspapers such as “Revolution of Saigon”, “Popular”, and “Popular Armed Forces” that informed only about the success in economics and in politics of the VC. Besides, rumors were spread thoroughly in the camp. Some said that Duong Van Minh was released to France after he gave up South Vietnam to the VC. Ngo Khac Tinh, the minister of the Department of Education had been caught trying to escape from Vung Tau. Tran Van Huong, the vice president, was confined at home for he was too feeble. General Nguyen Khoa Nam, the commander of the Forth Army Corps, had killed himself when the VC came in the headquarters. The people in South Vietnam were formed in the "three-three system" to control each other. They concluded that we wouldn’t be able to live in that society. I didn't know if those rumors were true. What if those were true, and what would happen to us if we escaped from the camp and could not stay at home? To be captured meant to die. No one dared to bet with the fate one more time.
Following the second lesson and our autobiographies, the next lessons were no longer important. Some campers didn't even come to class, and I was included. I took care of my sweet potatoes instead. The tropical summer sun burned brown my skin, and I thought it became thicker. I didn't scare of rain and sun any longer. My student appearance gave up for a farmer appearance in two weeks only. Yet most of all that busyness helped me not to think much about my family.
Campers were short of necessities, especially cigarettes. Some campers asked the employees in the kitchen buy cigarettes and tooth pastes. The board of supervisors knew that and called a meeting to announce that they were going to open a "canteen" -a grocery store- in the camp to sell necessary things for campers. The canteen was next to the kitchen and sold many items such as cigarettes, tooth pastes, dried foodstuffs, coffee and breakfast. Campers who had money could buy or ordered anything they wanted. The canteen made the pessimists become discouraged and the optimists have their chance to spend money! Life in the camp divided into two opposite sides between those who had money and those who didn't.
I didn't have money left because I had given it to my wife. I needed "to overcome" my difficulties. The most difficult for me was cigarettes because I smoked too much. To have a cigarette I had to exchange everything I was planting for the others. For saving money, I bought some plain tobacco and paper and tried to roll it by hand for the first time in my life. That reminded me of my grandmother who used to do that when she was staying in the folding chair to sew clothes helping my mother. My maternal grandmother whom I have been very close since I was a child; she was almost seventy. My childhood was appearing clearly in my mind whenever I remembered her. I thought of the altar in my mother's house that had been inherited from my great grandfather, one of the descendants of the royal family of the Lord of Trinh. The brass censer carved in bamboo and birds that I used to polish every New Year. Two big silver-bordered porcelain bowls on the wooden stands with two silver spoons that had been recalled from the Lord of Trinh had used to rinse his mouth. Porcelain wares still had the seal of Trinh Palace on the bottom. My grandfather named Trinh Van Giau used to be a headmaster of Cochichina -South Vietnam of Indochina. My first uncle had been a minister of the Department of Internal in the Royal Cabinet. With the family like that, my grandmother lived in poverty when my grandfather died because she was just a concubine of my grandfather. She kept everything left from the family as a memory and recalled her past when we were gathering for the anniversaries of my grandfather.
The forth week was almost over, and ten lessons had been done. Yet no one talked about the end of re-education. Campers divided into three groups due to their point of view. The optimists were waiting for the end of a month, so they could go home to live in the new society. They spent their money buying everything in the canteen and living as if they were not in the camp. The pessimists were depressed; they lived like shadows and didn't speak to any one. Those who accepted their fates were preparing for their lives in the camp for a long time. They saved everything and were always ready for a move. Though I always waited for the end of the first month, I didn't think I would be released. I only wanted to see what would happen after that. I dare not to say that don't hear what the Communists said, watch carefully what they do, but I always thought that was true. I hoped a miracle should happen, so I could go home to see my child and to live in my family the rest of my life as a normal citizen.
July 14th, 1975, French National Day, was the day the campers waiting for. A month of re-education, was that true? Hope and desperation mixed together creating strangeness among the campers. They hoped to hear from the warden but scared to hear bad news. One more day to complete a month of re-education but there was nothing. The line of cans waiting for water was shorter. Campers no longer stood in line. They put their cans in line and had a camper on duty fill water for them. The camp seemed to be paused. The campers gathered smoking, drinking tea, and talking.
I collected some sweet potatoes for the desert that night to celebrate the end of a month! Mr. Do Kien Nau, Banh's uncle, who used to be a chief of police in the third district of Saigon, Banh, and I was going to have dinner together. My potatoes were still small. I dug two beds and made two new beds to replace them. I didn't know what I just did! Was that a habit, or I didn't think that was the last day in the camp. I was not certain about anything anymore. I thought I just became suspicious! The policy of the Party and the State was unique, but I still doubted about that! How could I make progress? I chuckled to myself over my thought. Bringing some sweet potatoes to my sister-in-law, I overheard some women-campers saying about the celebration to release the campers tomorrow. I asked Lan, my sister-in-law, but she said it was just rumor only because tomorrow was the last day of a month. Since Nghia, Dep's husband, had been moved to the Thu Duc camp, campers talked about the relationship between Dep (my boss' secretary) and Tu Diep, the cadre in charge the women cell. Campers usually took credit for information from women and believed that was from Tu Diep. I didn't know exactly about the relationship between Dep and Tu Diep, but I thought that a man from jungle like Tu Diep would easily fall in love with a pretty women like Dep. (Her name "Dep" means pretty by itself!)
About a hundred campers in the cell for women, except some armed forces officers and policewomen from captain, the rest were mid-rank cadres of the Central Intelligence Organization. Mrs. Colonel Huong, the commander officer of women-soldiers, and Mrs. Major Thuy, the commander of Swan Detachment of the Policewomen, had been sent to the Thu Duc Camp. The relationships between men and women in the camp became more serious. Although I needed to help my sister in law, Lan, sometimes, I had to tell myself not to come regularly to the cell of women because I didn’t want any rumors. Most women who used to work in the Organization knew my wife, so I didn’t want my wife to suspect wrongly about my relation.
That evening, campers could not sleep early as usual. Groups of three or four sat together in the yard having dinner and chatting. Mr. Nau, the former lieutenant colonel of police forces, my friend Banh, and I sat at the table in the yard between the third and forth bloc, and cooked sweet-desert after our dinner. I didn’t believe that I would be released but also hoped a miracle would happen. Since coming into the camp, Banh spent most of his time learning to play Chinese chess. He became noisy himself, but that evening, he was strangely quiet. His uncle, Mr. Nau, was a chain-smoker; he asked me my pipe, opened his cigarettes, and tamped down the tobacco in the pipe for saving cigarettes. Banh and his uncle had some money, and sometimes they helped me when I needed. In exchange, I grew vegetable for our meals. We usually had dinner together. Later, Mr. Nau was sent to the camp Ha Tay in North Vietnam and died there. We sat in silence until midnight. Should anything come up or were just hopelessly waiting? A month of re-education was over, not only us but also our families were waiting for that day. No one could sleep that night waiting for dawn.
Campers waked up early on the 15th of July though we didn’t have any schedule. No cadre came to the cells. Some campers wandered on the main road toward the hall, but the hall was empty! Some said that the ceremony should be held in another place instead of in the camp, and they would move us to somewhere in Saigon to attend that ceremony. I thought that was humorous optimistic! Yet I still hoped that would happen as a miracle.
I didn’t know what to do but to water my sweet potatoes and vegetable. I didn’t want to be upset having too much hope and then got nothing and always advised myself that everything should be predestination!
Chapt. 16 - Life went on.
The expectation was over with hopelessness. Campers got back to everyday life. Long lines of cans were set on the main road as usual. Breakfast with rice gruel and salt, lunch and dinner with a bowl of rice and soup of pumpkin were continued. No camper stayed outside late. Whether they were tired or sleepy, they went to bed early.
Next morning, Bay Soi, the baldhead cadre named Bay who was in charge of the third bloc came to the cell early and told us come to the hall after breakfast. Everyone was hopefully joy. Some didn’t even take breakfast and get in line earlier than others! It was not as quiet as usual. The campers chattered noisily on the way to the hall.
There was no decoration in the hall. When the campers came, some cadres carried a table and a couple of chairs into the hall, and then Hai Con, the warden gave a speech. He said what we used to hear that “the policy of the Party and the State is unique, to beat deserters not those who stayed! We had to make progress in order to have the clemency of the Party and the State.” I asked myself how they could beat some one who has already gone! Hai Con said that the “Central” didn't say anything about a month of re-education. The return to society of campers depended on their progress not on the matter of time because we had to get along with the new society. And then, Hai Con said that to demonstrate the clemency of the Party and the State, they let us write a letter to our families. We had to tell our families that we were doing fine in the camp and making progress in re-education, and also recommended our families to comply with the policies of the Party and the State. We should not tell our families about the location of the camp and only used the code name 15NV for the return address.
The campers, especially the optimists were disappointed than ever. They suddenly realized that they should understand the Communists more. For those who didn’t believe in a month of re-education, that was a chance to know about their families. Writing a letter was better than nothing although we knew that we could not write everything. The Communists would examine carefully our letters, but at least we could connect with our families. I cravenly wanted to know about my child, a boy or a girl and about my wife after giving birth. My mother and my grand mother were also my concerns. With only two pages, what could I write? I had to use words wisely to let them know about my situation. I wrote that I was well fed and also grew some potatoes for my extra meal! I was in good health and gave some medicines to my friends who got sick. Besides, I had to waste at least half a page asking my family to comply with the policies of the local government for my benefit. On the way coming to the cell, I didn't concern about anything else but my letter. Yet I still recognized a strange silence. The campers were thinking about their fates and about the trick that the Communists had been doing. In their notice, they had only said that we had to bring our meals and clothes for a month, not mentioned about a month of re-education! We could not say that they had lied; it was us who hadn’t understood precisely the notice! “I should come back in a month or a year!” (…or how many more years?) I thought Diep’s poem and suddenly shivered with fear. How long before I come home? I wondered. My life had been ended since April 30th, but how would my family be? I didn’t want them to wait for me in hopelessness. Nothing was worse than separation!
In the following days, we only wrote our letters. Some wrote and rewrote their letters not satisfied with what they had done. They seemed to accept their fate as a certain matter. No one spent time for coffee, tea, cigarette, and chatting. More campers grew potatoes. Not enough water for both vegetable and potato, I had to water vegetable only. It was rainy season; therefore I didn't worry much.
Bay Soi and Tu Diep, the cadres in charge of the third bloc, came to collect letters everyday, but a week later there were still some who hadn’t finished their letters yet. They were no longer in a hurry! I had tried to send my letter in the first day hoped to receive the return letter early, but sometimes I regretted to do that. I thought I missed something.
Besides the letter, life in the camp was happening as usual. We woke up in early morning, exercised in a few minutes the ten movements imported from North Vietnam, had breakfast with rice gruel and salt, lunch and dinner with rice and soup of pumpkin, attended group meeting before bed time. Yet the difference was that after the meeting in the hall, we had to replace the cooks. The warden explained that we didn’t have money left; therefore, we had to do everything in the camp. The State and the People had to raise us instead. After that, they gave us eight hundred dongs every month for our needs. That meant we had to stay in the camp for a longtime, but “how long” was always a question without an answer. We had to make a progress in order to be released. What was that progress? Ten lessons had been over; how would we make progress when we did nothing?
To use spare time, some found something to do such as learning Chinese chess, writing imaginary recipes, drawing, engraving on wood or coconut husk, and so on. Nguyen, a friend of mine’s, spent most of his time digging roots of vine named Multiflorous Knootweed. He sliced them, dried in the sun, dehydrated and then boiled them to make a beverage. Somebody said that the root was a medicine that blackened our hair. I didn’t know if that was true, but Nguyen’s skin became brown, and his hair turned gray though he was only thirty!
When didn’t take care of my vegetable, I carved wood, engraved aluminum, and made "art-works" from coconut husk. The hammer was a bending bolt; the chisel was a steel wire. Everything was collected around the camp. I sketched on wood boards, and then I chiseled the lines on with my drawing. I cut the aluminum plate into stripes about two millimeters wide, ground them on the concrete floor, hammered tightly aluminum stripes into the lines and then sanded them. For doing “art works” by coconut husk, I cut coconut husk in a gold-fish-shaped hairpins, ground on the floor and sanded them by jack tree leaves. Finally, I carved scales, tails and head. The products looked like tortoise shell. I didn’t know what for, but I truly liked them. I used to draw and also spent a longtime; therefore my artworks looked beautiful. I engraved four drawings standing for four seasons including Mai flower (for winter), Orchid (for spring), Chrysanthemum (for fall), and Bamboo tree (for summer). I tried the drawing of mother and son thinking of my wife and child, and I liked that the most!
Two weeks later, we received the first letter from families. That was a Saturday evening when Bay Soi and Tu Diep came to the cells of the third bloc. They gave letters to the women campers first. We asked our team leaders receive our letters, but Bay Soi and Tu Diep wanted to give them directly to the campers.
I got a letter and a picture of my wife holding my son. My wife wrote that my son cried every night, that made her exhausted. Everybody in my family loved him so much because he was the first child. He was born about three kilos, not too big, but my wife still hardly delivered him. She wished me to have progress and came home early helping her. My mother and my grand mother wrote some lines said that they were healthy, and my mother’s tailor shop was still working as usual. My mother was a chief of the so-called “people in the street group”. Some “comrades” of my father came to see my mother and said that I would be back soon because I was a son in a revolutionary family! They wished me healthy and having progress in re-education. The letter was exactly what Hai Con had said in the hall. I thought not only me but also my family were being re-educated by the Communists. The strange words in Vietnamese language were written in the letters after three months was a precise proof for the change of the society.
I read and reread that letter until knowing every word. I made a frame and put the picture in it. It took me a week to do the frame, but it went along with me for almost seventeen years in the camps.
Chapt. 17 - The First Release
Some days after receiving the letter, life went on as usual. Except those who wanted to have some extra food had to grow vegetable or potatoes, the others didn’t do any labor. The campers having money could buy merchandises in the canteen. With eight hundred a month, I could buy a tube of toothpaste, some tobacco, and a little brown sugar.
About August, the Communists changed their new currencies in the whole country and defined five hundred South Vietnam dongs or four hundred North Vietnam dongs for a new dong. They allowed only ten thousands old dongs for everyone in Vietnam, the rest had to be left in the State own bank. Some campers who sneaked too much money into the camp had to share money with their friends to change to new currencies. I had heard about many things happening in the society. South Vietnamese who were too rich had to give money to their relatives from North Vietnam to change to new currencies, and didn’t get money back! I didn’t know whether that happened in the camp or not because if it did, no one would dare to say. Since then, instead of eight hundred a month, I got only one dong and sixty cents. First, the value didn't change, but later, I could buy a tube of toothpaste only. The Vietnamese economic went down so fast!
The warden told the campers to prepare for the “Independence Day”, September 2nd, 1975. We had to do wall-newspapers, sing in a band, and decorate for that day.
I wrote a short piece named “the class of cigarette” for the wall-newspaper. The tenor of that writing was to say about the down turn of popular in South Vietnam after the Communists took over. Yet I tried to hide my intention so the VC could not realize that.
The class of cigarette.
He is watching the straight beds of sweet potatoes that were done by his hard work.
He puts the hoe on the ground and sits on its handle. His left hand raises to wipe the sweat on his forehead, and his right hand goes into his pocket, pulls out a small box. Opening the box, he takes a roll of paper, tears a piece and puts it on his left hand by his four fingers. His thumb is holding that piece of paper. His right hand takes a small amount of tobacco from the box, spreads it on the paper and uses the left thumb holding tobacco. He then uses both hands to roll carefully the tobacco in the piece of paper to become a class of cigarette, but the difference is that it has one end bigger than the other. Finally, he glues the cigarette by his tongue.
The cigarette on his lips reminds him of a class of Winston, or Lucky that he used to smoke not long before. Only a couple of months but it seem to be many years had gone by. He cannot imagine a day he can use a hoe to make some beds of sweet potatoes like that, and he also cannot imagine that he can roll professionally a class of cigarette like that!
Everything was changing, he thinks.
I joined a band to sing a song named “Lovely Vietnam” the “pre-war song” that we used to hear in South Vietnam. We chose that old song for it was not as extreme as the others. Besides, the campers in the third bloc chose Diep and me to decorate the wall-newspapers, so I was real busy.
Campers hoped that something should happen in the National Day of the VC, a release of some campers at least. Everybody hoped to have his or her name in the release list. Rumors were spread again. Campers tried to explain their families’ letters in their way of imagination. While family’s members said that they wished us making progress and coming home in the Independence Day, the campers explained that their families knew about the release in that day but could not write in the letters. Some others even said that their family had some relatives working in the Department of Interior of the VC who said that all campers in the re-education camps would be released in the Independence Day because the VC wanted to show off their clemency. They would move the campers to Saigon in a ceremony, a part of Independence Day. The camp became noisy since the warden told the campers to prepare for the Holiday. Some campers having skill drew the portraits of Ho Chi Minh for the decoration. Cadres frequently came to the cells watching us doing the wall-newspapers, practice in the bands, or drawing.
Some days before September 2nd 1975, cadres came early to call the campers going to the hall when we just waked up. Everyone became active knowing that they already hung banners and flags in the hall. Hope became real, perhaps! Campers chose their nicest clothes and got in line waiting. Laughter, cheerful faces, and noisiness were coming back after a long time of silence! Two and half months since we entered the camp, that was the most beautiful day. Someone sang repeatedly the song of Vu Thanh An: “The merry day was coming up, we rebuild our lives!”
Tricolor flags of the NLF and banners reddened the hall. A big picture of Ho hung as usual in the wall with a slogan: “There was nothing more valuable than independence and freedom” underneath. A most special banner hanging by the sidewall with a slogan: “To cheer the clemency policy of the Party and the State” was easily seen.
Clapping of the campers burst the air when the wardens and the cadres came in. Hai Con, the warden, had a long opening speech. He said everything that we had heard in ten lessons about the failure of the American Empire and of the Capitalism, the victor of Vietnamese Revolution and of the Socialism, for the conclusion, he quoted the words from Ho that: “Ha Noi, Hai Phong and many other cities could be ravaged, but we should rebuild them ten time better when we defeated the American pirate.” He said that the campers, who were granted clemency from the Party and the State, would give our hand to rebuild our country when we came back to the society. And then he introduced his deputy, “comrade Bao”, to read the release list.
Campers were excited when “comrade Bao” with a briefcase in his hand came to the microphone. He solemnly took out a paper, put it on the lecture stage, and said:
“To show the clemency policy of the Party and the State, representing for the warden, today I announce the release list for the campers who have made progressive and should come back to the society giving their hands to rebuild our country. When coming back to the society, all of you have to execute the plans and the policies of local government.”
The list that the “comrade Bao” read included about twenty names, and then he came back to his chair without a word. We found out later that most of the campers in the list were necessary experts and some of them had had credits or had worked for the VC. The campers were disappointed.
After a while, Hai Con came back to the stage and said that for those who continued to re-educate, the Party and the State allowed them to receive gifts from their families once in three months. Campers should write a letter to families to let them know the day, the location, and our needs. Then Hai Con declared the end of the meeting. Scattered claps said goodbye for the Wardens and the Cadres. The more excited when the campers came to the hall, the more dejected they were when they went back to the cells.
We didn’t do anything for the Independence Day in the days following but writing our letters. The Independence Day came in silence. We had only a “fresh meal” with a piece of pork about two inches for lunch and dinner.
Gift from family, how tragic it was! How long would I live in the camp? Once in three month and how many times? And how long my families would be able to help me? In the previous money changing, the people in South Vietnam were poorer. The policy of the Communists was to create equality in society, not equal in wealthy but equal in poverty.
I thought of my family and didn’t know what to ask for. What was my wife doing with her newborn child? How was my mother? Was she still sitting by the sewing machine? She had raised us since I was born, and now she had to help my wife to raise me in the camp again! Her life was totally a sacrifice for her children. I didn’t want to be a heavy load for my family. Yet, what could I do? I tried to choose some cheapest and most necessary things to ask for such as sesame-salt, fine-shrimp sauce, plain tobacco, water-glory seeds, and cold medicines. I didn’t forget pictures of my new boy. I wrote and rewrote my letter many times until the last allowed day, sent it and waited for my first gift.
A week later, a truck came in the early morning. Everyone was excitedly waiting. Team leaders came to the hall to check names for campers and let everyone go in turn to get the gift. Cadres checked the parcels before gave them to the campers. Five kilograms could not pack everything that a camper needed after three months, but it got at least his family’s love. I opened each item to enjoy it with my affection. There were ten black and white photos of my wife and my son. They kept the letter for censor before gave it to me. I brought the pictures to show to my sister-in-law and to my friends. My son could turn over when he was three month old and no longer cried at night. My sister wrote her friend “comrade Ba Son” took those pictures. I didn’t know who that “comrade” was, but I felt not satisfied for a stranger in my family. Yet, in the new situation of the country, what should happen otherwise? Our era had been over. This was the “comrade era”! My family could not be an exception. “To loss of the country to the Communists meant to loss everything!” I thought of that statement of Thieu and felt sorrow.
Any pleasure was over; any sorrow was little by little fading. We had to come back to our daily life. The “board of supervisors” wanted to form common labor instead of individual. They took back the fields. I no longer had my own ground for sweet potato and vegetable. Every morning, we worked in the field except those who were on duty to clean up and to get water for team members. Hoes and spades were common use also. We learned about “common labor”, and at that time, we had to practice it. The ground in the camp was mixed of clay and gavel, so it was so hard. We had to use crowbar to hoe up the ground before making beds for sweet potato. That was really hard labor, but we were still young. The old campers didn’t make the beds; they put cuttings of sweet potato vine into the beds instead. After a month, the view of the camp totally changed. There was no vacant ground; the straight beds of sweet potato stretched parallel each other looked like dunes in a desert after. The campers became brown under the heat of the sun in summer. We had to work everyday, except Sunday, from seven A.M. to noon. That was the beginning for us to get used to forced labor. In addition, the ground was not enough for more than two thousand campers. I didn’t have any land to plant vegetable, so I used most of my free time to draw the pictures of my wife and my son.
Not every camper had gift, and five kilogram was not enough for three month. The campers became short of energy after a while. Although rice supplied by the camp was not too few, the food with some slice of pumpkin boiled in salty water was not enough for our living. Some had edema and prurigo. Grasshoppers, crickets, and bugs became “flying shrimps”. Mice, frogs, snakes, and geckos were “luxurious meat”. Wild vegetables became rare. The campers could eat anything not poison. We joked that everything that could move could be eaten except a bolt! The “Guigoz milk” aluminum cans were familiar for the campers. We put a bail for ease to handle. In the morning, it held drinking water; it became a holder for things gathered in the field and a cooking pot when coming back to the cell. When sitting in line in the hall, it became a stool. What a useful thing! I could say that the guigoz can was the most valuable, and we named it “Go”. The emptied “Soya cheese” containers became Hubble-bubble pipe for Rustic cigar or kerosene lamp. Soy sauce bottles became glasses. Campers wasted nothing!
Life in the camp was happening in the same way day after day: going to work, eating, waiting for letters and gifts, meeting before sleep, and doing things for daily life. Every day was a longest day as people said: “A day in prison, thousand years outside”.
After three months or so, some women were released including my sister-in-law, Lan. She left her stuffs for me. I felt happy for her, and for my wife. At least my wife had someone speaking with, and over her sister my wife could know my real life in the camp. That had been the last group released from the Long Thanh camp except some were scattered released due to the needs of the VC.
Chapt. 18 - “TET” in the Long Thanh Camp
Tet –Lunar New Year- was the most important holiday to the Vietnamese people. That was the days of family reunion, remembering the ancestor and celebrating the harvest. Before the Tet 1976, we heard that the VC wanted to replace the Tet by the Solar New Year or the Independence Day. That would be a bad idea because it would not be suitable for the Vietnamese, and they could not avoid the people celebrating Tet. Yet, the warden let us prepare for Tet as an act to beat that rumor.
Each bloc formed different groups including performance group, unicorn dancing group, wall newspaper group, and decoration group. Beside, they needed a group to make rice cakes, the Tet pole, and the games for the campers such as volley ball, soccer, lead in bag, and ping-pong.
Beside to decorate for the third bloc, I had to do the pole for the camp. The “Tet Pole” was a high bamboo hanging something on its top such as a musical stone, (fake) firecracker, and a red scroll writing in Chinese. A cadre escorted two campers and me going to get a bamboo. That was 23rd day of the last month, the day to say good-bye to the Kitchen-God going to see the King of Heaven. Vietnamese families usually worshiped the Kitchen-God on that day. We came to a family living close to the camp. They asked us about our lives in the camp and gave us some food saying that they only gave the bamboo for us, not for cadres! I was surprised because the people in that region used to help the VC in the war. The old woman said when the cadre went out that they used to shelter and protect the VC in the war but was robbed to their bone after the war was over. In the old regime, they didn’t have to contribute “agricultural tax”, but in the so-called revolutionary government they had to give almost everything for that tax. The people were poorer while the VC’s were richer. Ten months after the “revolution”, the first time I heard about the dissatisfaction from the people who had helped the VC in the war.
We hung lanterns everywhere in the camp, extended some banners with the sentence “Happy New Year!” or “Greeting the Year of the Dragon, 1976” at the front gate and at the houses. We glued papered flowers in pink and yellow on trees around the camp to fake Mai and Peach blossoms. Mai was a kind of flower that only existed in South Vietnam and blossomed in Tet, and Peach represented the Tet in North Vietnam. In Vietnamese New Year, every home had something special to symbolize, such as watermelon, firecracker, rice cakes, and Mai or Peach flowers. We had almost everything except some of them were fakes! We greeted the first Tet in the camp with our sorrow instead of joy although we had to prepare for that.
Before New Year, it was cool and the sunlight was gold. The soft wind on the hilltop reminded me the Tet at home only forty miles away. Who cleaned the set of incense burner that I used to clean every New Year? I remembered my grand mother instructing my sister to make cakes and lotus seed candies, the specialties in the Tet. Sometimes I helped her to stir the confection of green bean. Where was the familiar and warm scent of incense in the nights of New Year Eve? My mother used to work in her tailor shop until New Year Eve, and sometimes I helped her to complete her job because her seamstresses had come home. I could not forget how to set the altar welcoming our ancestors. Everything appeared in my mind. Nothing could replace the Tet in family! The VC said that we had to get used to the common life. What could we choose if we didn’t want a common life? Everyone readied for the New Year without interesting.
On New Years Eve, the warden and the cadres came to every cell. We had to stay awake until midnight waiting for them. They said that they hoped we would make progress for coming home early, but everyone knew that they could not believe in what they were hearing. We greeted each other on New Year day as usual, and that was just savoir-faire!
The games were prepared carefully, but only some campers responded. We could not form two teams for soccer, only for volleyball between three blocs 1, 3, and 4. The funny thing was that two first and second winners in the lead-in-bag game were two cripples: Nhan, my former agent, and Phan, the former mayor of Saigon.
Everyone was discouraged waiting for a release in the New Year, but the three days of Tet were over in silence. Some days later, trucks carried bricks into the camp. The VC began to reinforce the camp. We had to move bricks and put them along the road, and then they built the walls everywhere in the camp. Our space was narrower!
Chapt. 19 - The First Visit
To celebrate “three great holidays” including the birthday of Ho, the South Vietnamese Resistance Day and the Independence Day, the campers had to come to the hall. I didn’t like to hear their speeches, but I had no choice. In addition, I didn’t have to work and got a “fresh meal” with a bit of meat at least.
Flags and banners had been hanging everywhere in the hall some days before. Since Vietnam was unified, we didn’t see the tricolor flags of the Republic of South Vietnam but the color of blood of North Vietnam flags. Once again, the Communists took advantage the patriotism of the people in South Vietnam to conquer the whole country to become a Communism country. Who was puppet administration, the Republic of Vietnam or the Republic of South Vietnam? I wondered.
The decoration in the hall was always the same with a picture of Ho hanging in the middle of the wall and a banner “nothing is valuable than independence and freedom” underneath. At that time, we sat on the benches. When we began to do labor, the campers in the second bloc worked in the hall to make baskets, brooms, and some other products from bamboo. They collected timbers from the deserted cottages and made the “benches” in the hall as well. Those benches were not comfortable at all, but at least we didn’t sit on the floor.
Besides, they built a high platform near the back wall and set tables and chairs for cadres.
Cadres came to the hall after we took our seats. We stood up and sat down many times to greet them as usual, and then Thuy, the chief of warden introduced the writer Hoai Thanh who was going to give speech about the poems of Ho Chi Minh. He said that Hoai Thanh was a “well known” writer, but none of us knew him.
Hoai Thanh was about mid fifty; little fat and short with a square face and two big cheeks. He put his shirt inside his trouser instead of dropping outside like other high rank cadres, and he wore a tie too! We were surprised when a cadre brought him a beer instead of water!
I didn’t pay much attention of his speech because the poems of Ho were so terribly worse than Vietnamese folk verses except a book in Chinese named “diary in the prison” that didn’t belong to him. The only thing I remembered was Hoai Thanh's introduction, “The poetry of the chairman Ho was interesting because that was the poetry of the chairman Ho!” I didn’t know how dare he say that in a speech for us? A lampoon aimed at Ho in the country of the VC was a worst sin! Yet, I thought cadres didn’t understand because when we clapped, they applauded also.
Around noon after Hoai Thanh left, the deputy Bao said something about their three great holidays. For the conclusion, he said that to indicate the clemency of the Party and the State, they were going to allow us see our families in September 1st and 2nd.
Fourteen months in the camp, that was the most exciting moment for me!
After hearing the “policy of the Party and the State” about three-year re-education, I didn’t believe that would be true. Firstly, they said we had to bring food, clothes, blanket, and curtain for a month, and now three-year re-education and “should be released when making progress”. They were playing words again! What was the progress? No one was able to know that. That meant they should keep us forever or release us whenever they wanted
My way going home was blocked! The rest of my life, even in the society, was just hopelessness. Living in the camp was a life without livelihood. Days after days, I acted like a shadow: workings, eating, sleeping, with the clanks just like a robot, or the dog of Pavlov. My mind was not belonging to me any more. Sometimes I did things and thought of my family at the same time, even in my dream. They were my life. To see my family, that was clearly my hope! Writing a letter and two weeks waiting, what a long time!
I didn’t know what to write. The VC didn’t want us to think of our families and said that we had to ease our mind and absolutely believed in the policy of the Party and the State. What funny when we had to ease our mind staying in prison and to believe in their lies! Yet, we had to say that like a parrot. We experienced everyday in the camp not only forced labor but also forced thinking.
In the letter sending over cadre, I only wrote to let my family know about the date and the location to come to visit me, asking about my grand mother, my mother, my wife, my son and my siblings. I secretly wrote another letter for my wife and hid it inside the handle of the sedge basket. I wanted to let my wife know that I would not come home soon and she was too young. I wanted her to forget me and to have a different life. I wanted her to have a new life in the new society without me. I loved her but didn’t want her to waste her life because of me. I just wanted she would raise my boy even if she left me.
In those days, we were busy moving around. New comers replaced some campers transferring to the Thu Duc camp. The VC called them the “victims of the old regime” –prostitutes and bargirls- and sent them to the camp for “recovering their humanity.” They stayed in three houses of the first bloc. We had to jam together and the third bloc occupied two houses instead of three.
September 1st was the first day of visiting; we were excitedly waiting. I chose my clothes and ready. More than fourteen months doing hard labor, my “best clothes” were the trousers torn at the knees and the blue shirt torn at the collar! Around nine o’clock in the morning, they began to call the campers. Campers brought empty bags, got in line for checking before went out. I didn’t know whether my family was coming that day or the next day.
Around noon, Diep and I were called at the same time. Two families lived close together and went together, perhaps. Lots of campers visited, so they search carelessly our stuffs. I saw my grand mother, my mother, my wife and my son while approaching the visiting house, especially my wife holding my son. Whether he was so tiny or because I didn’t see a baby for a long time, he looked so small. My wife was skinnier although she had been skinny already! I felt pity for her; three years of happiness were not worth.
Fifteen minutes went so fast, and cadres listened our conversation too. They wanted us to tell lies about our situation. Our conversations were covered with lies, but we understood each other. I tried to hold my son, but he yielded back to my wife. My grand mom seemed older and skinnier. Yet, her voice was still loud. That was the last time I saw my grand mom, and the good-bye kiss I still remember. My mother didn’t say a word. I held her hands and saw tears in her eyes. She endured so much agony since my father left home. Her life rendered for her children. I didn’t know what to say to her.
I whispered to my wife about my letter in the handle of the bag, and she told me that she had a letter for me in the can of shrimp sauce. Hiding a letter in shrimp sauce, a viscous and smelly thing, what an idea! I saw tears in her eyes when I kissed her good bye. Fifteen minutes was over. Everyone stood lazily to lengthen the time of good-bye! Cadres called campers to get in line quickly and came back into the camp for other group. I carried two bags of supplies slowly going to the line. My wife turned away hiding her tears. The excitement of waiting was given up for the sadness of good-bye. Campers walked toward the camp with their heads turning back until going through the front gate –the door that separated the two prisons: the prison for campers in re-education camp and the prison for the people in social-socialism.
Not enough cadres to do their work, they allowed some campers team leaders to check our stuffs. I set separately everything on the floor. The cadre only watched for a camper who took up and put down each item. I worried about the letter of my wife, but everything was over.
My wife had written a ten pages letter a week before seeing me. She said she would not have chance to say to me in front of my family about things that happened for her after coming home from the Chu Van An High School. That had been happening generation to generation in Vietnamese families! The contrariety between family of husband and wife was the main topic in many families. Vietnamese people often lived three generations under one roof. The contradiction of each other could not avoided, especially when a wife, a stranger, living alone in the family of her husband. The problem between a woman and the so-called “mother-in-law” and “sister-in-law” happened long time ago, continued until recently and for how long more? I had known that and tried to have my own house. Yet, when she came back to my mother’s house, everything happened like it used to be, even worse because I was not home. The most difficult for her was that in the new society, being an employee of the old regime, she could not find a job. She had to rely on my family and shared their poverty. In addition, due to the old ethical behavior and custom of Vietnamese, a married woman had to live in her husband’s family when he gone; she could not be doing otherwise.
She didn’t clearly say about the situation of my family but wrote that she had to get in long lines to buy rice and other necessary things for the family. My son still had enough milk mixed with thin rice, and although my grand mother liked coffee with milk, she had to drink black coffee saving milk for my son. Not only in the camp but also in the society everyone lied. The country was tattered; the people were so poor. But everyone had to say that our country was rich and beautiful; our difficulty was only temporary! (Temporary for how long or forever?) I knew about my family and didn’t ask for anything. I didn’t want to be a “heavy burden” for them. Their supply helped me to survive but was anguish for them because they had to give me their already small rations. I was not able to imagine about a country in which the people had to stay days after days in lines only to buy necessities for their lives. That was a precise proof for the statement “don’t hear what the Communists say, watch carefully what they do.”
That night I could not sleep thinking of my family, thinking of what to write to my wife. What would I write except to calm her and to love her? I didn’t know whether my love was her happiness or her despair? At twenty-five years old, she had to suppress her desire, living alone, raising her son, and waiting for a distant and desperate love, what a tricky circumstance! In her letter, she wrote that she was very happy having my love; she wanted to wait for me three years, but what if that should be not “three-years”. She didn’t know what would happen for her if we were going to see each other again only when our hair turned gray or white! How could I reply to her when I didn’t believe in what “they” said? My life was over, what about hers? I didn’t want to be selfish, but what should I say? I always remembered that “to lose the country to the Communists is to lose everything.” Yet, I knew that she would not leave me until she had no hope, or until I died. I thought of the death as a release for my agony and for her life.
I thought of everything but wrote only what happened in my mind when I saw her. Seeing her holding my son, I knew she was happy because her son was what she used to wish for.
September 2nd was the Independence Day of the VC; they didn’t have a ceremony because they were so busy with the last day of our visit. I didn’t expect anyone anymore and just stayed at my place reading and rereading the letter. Around noon, they called Diep to receive some more supplies. He told me that I got a small package in his bag. My wife sent me some dried noodles, and most importance was her letter in the package. I found her letter inside dried noodles. She wrote that she was trembling and sweating seeing I came up from the camp. She thought that I was from the hell, and that she didn't know if she would be able to see me again. On the way home, someone joked that whoever kissed his wife should be punished; she asked me whether or not I was punished? She wanted to overcome any difficulty waiting for me.
I loved her so much but didn’t want to let her down. On the other hand, she was living in hope and happy with her son. I didn't want to destroy her dream. People said that to live is to hope; she was living. In my letter, I wrote that I would love her in any circumstance even if she left me! I wanted her not to waste her life waiting for me. Deep down in my mind, I still wanted to be with her. Although I didn’t believe in the three years as the Communists said, I still hoped that would be true. Two opposite states in my mind made me could not have any decision.
The visiting time was over; we sat together when some empty buses came into the camp. Since the so-called “victims of the old regime” filled some houses in the zone A, we were waiting for a move! We didn’t expect that would happen so close to the visiting day. Our stuffs were bulky. We needed to pack them although no one said anything yet.
About ten o’clock that evening, Tu Diep and Bay Soi, told us ready for moving. Only some campers working in the kitchen stayed some days before handing over to the new campers. We were ready, but didn’t know where we were going. One group had moved to the Thu Duc camp some days ago! We were not different? My wife said that Linh, my brother-in-law had moved away from the Thu Duc camp to a camp in North Vietnam. We would replace the campers in the Thu Duc camp, perhaps. Some days earlier, the warden let us watch a movie named “Our Story” to show life of a camper in the camp in North Vietnam. I thought they wanted us ready for our lives in coming days. I didn’t worry about anything because at least I had already seen my family. I would accept anything to happen as a certain matter.
Around midnight, we moved out of the Long Thanh camp after one year two months and eighteen days staying there.
Part 3
The Thu Duc Camp
Chapt. 20 - The Thu Duc Camp
The first sense when coming to the Thu Duc camp was that I was truly imprisoned! The camp used to be the detention center for women inmates in the Republic of Vietnam period. It had been founded from French Colonial, I didn’t know, but it was well constructed. Fifteen months in the Long Thanh camp, the VC didn’t lock the cells, but in the Thu Duc camp, the first thing they did was to lock the cell-door behind our backs.
The camp was located in the township of Thu Duc, ten miles from Saigon. The concrete wall with barbed wire on top surrounded the camp. There were two guarding posts at both sides of a steel front door and a blockhouse at every corner of the wall. The large yard behind the front door came to a concrete wall, which separated the yard and the prison inside. There was only a small door at that wall. Some compartments at the corner of the yard were used as the offices for cadres and the warden. Beyond the wall was a narrow gorge about four-foot wide with high walls on both side; it looked like a communication trench.
First, they sent me into a cell in the zone B. The campers stayed on two concrete stages about four feet high by the walls. A passage in the middle was a walkway. Walls surrounded the small yard in front of that cell. Therefore, we only saw each other in the cell. Forty campers lived in the cell having a restroom with two toilets flushed by water and a shower. It was cleaner than the latrine at the Long Thanh camp at least.
Some days later, I was moved to the cell 4 in the zone A; I was ready for a big move!
The octagonal shape of the cell 4 made it looked like a church. Some said that it used to be a praying house for Catholic nuns, and the Thu Duc camp used to be a seminary.
The cell 4 held about four hundred campers. We slept on concrete floors three feet higher than the walkways in between. A large bathroom having four toilets, two showers and a faucet located at the right side of the cell. There were many window frames all around the cell with steel bars and an only door in front coming to a large yard next to the door to the front yard of the camp. Three other cells across from the cell 4 were belonging to zone A, so we could see other campers in those cells. We were waiting for transferring to other camp. The Thu Duc camp was only a transition station. We didn’t do anything except some volunteer chipped firewood for the kitchen.
Every morning, cadres came to the cell opened the door, stood at the doorway, and we sat at our places counting in turn from one to the end of the campers in the cell. We had only half an hour for sunbath and workout and then came back into the cell to hear someone reading newspaper until lunchtime. After lunch, we could sleep or do anything in silence. In the afternoon, we took our turn to take showers and washing. After dinner, cadres came to check us in; sometimes we got in line in the yard, other time, we sat at our places to count in turn.
When we came to the Thu Duc camp, they had moved two groups out to the camp in North Vietnam. They were the campers from the Long Thanh camp: the first group left the camp some weeks after coming to Long Thanh, and other group was just left Long Thanh some weeks ago. I heard that they came to the Nam Ha camp in North Vietnam.
This time was our turn!
Besides not doing anything, we got rather good meals everyday with rice and soup of tomato or gourd and a little meat and fat. We told each other that they "fed” us before sent us doing hard labor! That was a joke, but not far from reality.
About ten days later, some other campers include the rest of the campers in the Long Thanh camp filled most of the cells. Cadres came to the cell 4 and named the campers who were going to be moved. The others came to the zone C. I was in the group ready for leaving.
We didn’t do anything from that day on, only gathered to say about our future camp!
Two days later, a cadre called Tuan and me for interrogation, and then we moved to another cell because that night they transferred the campers to the camps LaoKai and Quang Ninh in North Vietnam.
Chapt. 21 - I Was Staying for Interrogation!
Actually, there was nothing special about the Thu Duc camp because that was only a transition station!
When Tuan and I stayed for interrogation, we were moved to the zone B.
Except the zone A having four cells with a common yard, the others separated by walls. Campers in different houses would not be able to see each other except when they came to the kitchen to get meals or drinking water. Yet, there would always be cadres or rivals going along with campers.
Campers in the Thu Duc camp included criminal inmates, “reaction organizations” the people who went against the Communists after April 30th 1975, boat people who were caught trying to escape from the country, millionaires who were caught when the VC knocked down wealthy people in the campaign to destroy capitalists, and personnel of the old regime. They held different kinds of camper in different zone. Zone A was reserved for temporary campers waiting for transfer. Zone B kept personnel of the old regime and millionaires and zone C criminal inmates, “reaction organizations”, and boat people. I didn’t know how many campers in the Thu Duc camp.
The zone B was a house having two cells with a front yard surrounding by walls. About a hundred campers stayed there. They had been transferred from the Long Thanh camp a year ago. Some of them used to be high rank personel of South Vietnam Government such as Cang, the former commissioner of the Central Intelligence Organization, Trang, the chief of A8, Luong, chief of A10, Viep and Nhu, the judges of the Supreme Court of Saigon.
In the first cell, most of the campers were personnel of South Vietnam Government and some millionaires such as the pharmacist La Thanh Nghe, the “king of barbed-wire” Tran Kim Qui. The campers used to be in police and intelligence service stayed in the second cell.
We didn’t do anything, and for some reason that I didn’t know; the warden seemed to be easier on us. They didn’t lock the cell until six p.m. and let us wander in the yard, cooking, and exercising.
The interrogation happened for nearly two months. First I had to see the VC everyday to write and rewrite what they wanted to know. Later, they only saw me once or twice a week, and then they no longer called me. I thought the interrogation was over!
They asked me everything I knew about the “Third Power”, whom I had followed from 1970 to 1972 before I worked for A17 mission. Some of them worked for the VC such as Mrs. Ngo Ba Thanh, the congresswoman of VC’s assembly. They used to mix up the rear helping the VC to conquer South Vietnam. I didn’t like them because they stood in between to gain benefit of both sides.
I knew very little about the Third Power because I only shadowed them as a reporter for the Saigon Post Newspaper. I only knew about their outer side! Mrs. Ngo Ba Thanh graduated Law degree from the University of Sorbonne, France; her husband, Mr. Ngo Ba Thanh was a veterinary doctor, professor of the College of Vet, Forest and Agriculture. Lawyer Tran Ngoc Lieng used to be the Minister of the Department of Internal Affair in the First Republic of Vietnam. General Duong Van Minh, a leader of the Committee of the South Vietnam Armed Forces, who had overthrown the President Ngo Dinh Diem of the First Republic of Vietnam. All of them used to be in high positions in South Vietnam. They discontented with the president Nguyen Van Thieu, or for any other reasons that I didn’t know, had combined with the Buddhist monks of the An Quang Pagoda to form the so-called “The Third Power” to go against the Government of RVN.
I thought the VC had known everything I wrote for them because they already had the people who mingled in the Third Power. The people in the “third power” had helped the VC to conquer South Vietnam recently; I didn’t know why the VC asked me about them. Whether the VC suspected them or wanted to have proof to put them down, the VC always did like that with anyone who was not Communist. It was very stupid to think that they could get a high position in the Communist Regime without joining Communists Party. Even if they joined the Communists Party, they should be only at a low rank; how could they have a high position as they had been in South Vietnam Government? The VC just temporarily used them for getting sympathy with the people; and then removed them when they no longer needed.
Two more transfers happened after that, but Tuan and I still stayed in the Thu Duc camp. Two months later we moved to the zone D.
Chapt. 22 - The Zone D
We included about one hundred campers mostly from the Long Thanh camp. They divided us into two teams: team one for those who used to work in RVN government and team two for those who used to be in the Police Force and the Central Intelligence Organization. Some others were caught in the campaign of the VC to defeat the capitalists such as the pharmacist Nghe, and the King of Barbed Wire Quy staying in the team one.
The zone D located at the end of the camp in the area about one acre surrounding by four walls. One side was the zone C, one the zone B, and two others a plain area that separated the camp to people living around. Two blockhouses stood at two corners between the zone D and the zones B and C. The two three-foot doors, one opened to the area outside of the camp and the other to the zone C and the kitchen.
Two houses in the zone D stood parallel with the wall separated the zone B. The house in the middle was the cell for the campers who worked in the kitchen and in the Rivals’ Committee, and the other close to the wall was the cell for us. Both were brick houses with tile roof and tile floor.
We stayed in the second house having a concrete front patio fenced by barbed wire. I stayed in the cell 2. It was a room about twenty four feet wide by eighty feet long with a restroom at one end. The room looked new; it looked like the warehouse had been remodeled to become the cell. The floor and paint were new. We set our mats on the floor for our living spaces. Three rows of mats separated by two spaces that used as the walkways. We stretched strings from wall to wall along the walkways to hang our curtains. We put our personal belongings at our places. The room looked like a temporary shelter.
I set my poncho under my mat to prevent the moisture from the floor as usual, and put my kit bag by the wall. My place was next to the doorway, so I could see outside of the cell even when the door was closed. It was a sliding steel-bar door.
Cadres used Uyen as team leader of team two. They divided team into three groups, and Don, Tuan, and I were group leaders. The most difficult for me was that the campers in my group were mostly my former chiefs. Yet in the Thu Duc camp, we didn’t have much of labor; the formation of groups was just for our daily activities.
Cadres didn’t close the cell door at daytime and allowed us to stay inside the fence. We sat about two hours a day listening to the newspapers such as “Popular”, “Popular Armed Forces”, “Liberation of Saigon”, and sometimes the magazine “The Youth”. News in those newspapers and magazine were mostly about the victories of the VC in economy and politics. They locked the door at about six p.m.; we had a meeting in groups and team after dinner. Team leader informed things that the cadre wanted us to know about.
Some months later, they gave us a television. We had the chance to see their entertainers. They usually dressed Vietnamese blouses, black trousers and striped scarves. Singers sang in fast tempo and high pitch. News was usually about their successes in agricultures, economies, and politics. Soviet Unions’ movies aimed at the defeat the Capitalism and the Feudalism.
The idleness in the Thu Duc camp made days to become longer! We killed our time playing Chinese Chess, writing imaginary recipes, cooking, and gathering to drink tea and chatting. I spent most of my time to draw. Sometimes, I volunteered to chip firewood in the kitchen in order to get rice-crust. Late 1976, we cultivated the land behind the camp. We grew pumpkin, green cabbage, and water morning glory. The land about an acre for a hundred campers, we only worked in the morning.
The VC allowed us to see our families in the Tet 1977. My mother, my wife, and my son came to visit me in twenty minutes. The camp was only ten miles from my home. They said that they were glad and hoped to see me again. My wife still stayed home to raise my son and to help my mother. My son didn’t let me hold him, and my mother remained in silence as usual. That Vietnamese New Year we had many things for our celebration, but no one could enjoy it because we all thought of our family not far away. The closer to our home we stayed, the more homesick we had.
In March 1977, many youngsters came to fill out the zone B. They were unmannerly children whom their families sent for re-education and urchins who had been caught in the campaign of the VC to clean up the streets. The VC called them the leftovers of the Americans and the old-regime. After that, lots of bricks were transported into the camp. We piled them along the zones C and D. They were ready for more constructions but I didn’t witness that because I had to move to the Tan Lap camp not long after.
Part 4
The Tan Lap Camp
Chapt. 23 - The trip to hell
On Saturday April 16th 1977, we didn’t have “labor” as usual. A cadre came into the cell in early morning and called all campers to bring everything to the yard for a routine check. In the Thu Duc camp, we were usually ready for a change after they checked our stuffs. We brought our belongings to the yard, set out separately everything on the ground and waited for cadres or the Rivals. By the regulation of the camp, we could not keep any sharp or pointed thing for safety, could not have dried food, salt, and pepper to prevent escape. They said that dried food and salt were the reserve for escapee, and pepper was used as the deviation the course of police dogs. Yet “they” would confiscate anything they wanted. We hid “illegal” things somewhere or left them in the room for later use, and if we were moved, those things would be left for others. Cadres and the Rivals knew that, so they searched carefully everywhere in the yard and in the cell. But how could they find everything?
I was just over a cold (a kind of typhoid fever) some days ago and lost lots of hair! A camper physician named Ton That Hung treated me by acupuncture, steam bath and some Tylenol. Someone said that Ton That Hung was a fake physician because he didn’t have Hue accent though his last name was Ton That, the name of a royal family in Central Vietnam, and he looked too young for the age of fifty. He showed me a diplomat having his name Ton That Hung, a physician graduated from the University Of Lyon, France, and an Acupuncture Certificate from Tokyo, Japan. I didn’t know if he was fake or not, but in that situation, I did not have any choice except to give my life to him. I saw Ton That Hung when coming back to Thu Duc camp five years later; he was then not a doctor any longer but a camper like the others. He was released in 1985 after ten years only by using fake document.
That morning, I thought of a transfer because I heard that new campers came to the Thu Duc camp from yesterday. Since I was staying in the Thu Duc camp for interrogation after my friends had been moved away in 1976, I was always ready. Three years of re-education was meaningless for me. In the notice of “the Party and the State” about the policy for the personnel of “pseudo-government” and “pseudo-armed-forces”, they said that we had to make progress in a three-year period in order to have their clemency! I thought that they were playing words again. I did not know how long I should be in the camp, and how long I should be able to endure? I just wanted my family to forget me as if I had been dead on the day of “revolution”. A month, a year, then three years, and how many more years should I have to stay in the camp? I didn’t like to stay at the Thu Duc camp because it was too close to my home. I didn’t want to create a hope for my family and then they should be disappointed at the truth. Moving far away should be a solution. With that thinking, I brought my stuff to the yard without worry.
Dan, a camper in the Rival Committee, was watching when four cadres checked carefully everything after searched the campers from head to toe! That was the first time they did it so thoroughly. And then, another cadre came with a paper named the campers. Those who were called stayed outside; the others came back to the cell. In the list, there was a camper who was too sick, so the cadre called another camper to replace him. Some of my friends such as Tuan, Hanh, Loc, Trung, Vinh, Tam, stayed outside, but some others having high positions such as Cang (the former commissioner), Luong (chief of A10), and Trang (chief of A8) came back to the cell.
They sent us to the zone A, locked into the cell close to the gate. From there, I could see new campers in other cells. Their pale skin and long hair looked like people in jungle. Most of them were young. I heard a melancholy voice from somewhere singing repeatedly the theme --In the winter morning, the young soldier holds the bars of the cell looking forward and whispering that I am kept in prison because I didn’t want to kill, we are far away from each other because I dare not to kill--. Vinh, my used to be young agent, shouted asking where they from, and I heard an answer, Tay Ninh! I thought they had been kept in the secret zone D of the VC and were moved to the Thu Duc camp to go to somewhere else with us. The Thu Duc camp was only a transition location. I didn’t think the VC should keep us so close to Saigon like that. Yet the main question was where and when they were going to move us? I often thought of an island or a jungle or North Vietnam. I still hoped that would be somewhere in South Vietnam; at least I was still in my “country”. I could not think of North Vietnam as my country though it is a part of Vietnam. Fabric-helmets, green-uniforms, bicycles, and furious faces of the people in that part of Vietnam were so strange! In the war, we confronted the VC but we didn’t hate them; we were not angry with them. When talking about their leaders, we also used polite words. To the contrary, they gave more vindictive hatred at us as if they would kill us right away if they could. They learned hatred since their childhood. The images of North Vietnam children in uniforms with red-scarf always haunted my mind. How would my son be in that kind of society? Even in the war, I just wanted a society of kindness, not the one of grudge. The song that someone was repeatedly singing reminded me of the society. “Because I didn’t want to kill, I am kept in prison.” What tragic!
Our former commanders, Cang and Trang, brought lunch and dinner for us. They didn’t talk to us only gave us a sorrowful look. Staying campers knew about their situations at least, and leaving campers had to accept whatever would happen for them in their new situations. I had to accept everything to happen for me because I gave up my own life in my enemies’ hands. My better way should be quietly stand any hardship, even death if necessary. I thought of a theory of the Buddhism that “our lives in this world were just temporary, our deaths were our return” and calmed myself with that thinking.
Around midnight, a cadre came to our cell waked us up to prepare for the move. I was ready but didn’t think it would happen so fast. I put my clothes, mosquito’s curtain, and blanket in the military kit bag, some food left from my recent visit such as a can of sugar, a can of husked-rice-flour, and some dried meat in two small pockets of the bag. I tied my poncho at the side of the bag; the military can of water at the other side, the folded-sedge-mat over the top, and then tied up the bag’s lid. I made it as neat as possible look like a soldier ready for a campaign. I tried the bag over my shoulders and put it back on the floor waiting.
Everyone in the cell was ready. The light in the yard was brightened. Cadres moved and talked noisily outside. I heard the sounds of cars. About an hour later, three cadres came to our cell named the campers. We came out, got on the line and followed the two armed-cadres through the small door to the front yard. They cuffed two campers together by a primitive-handcuff. With the cuffs without chain, our hands were unable to move easily. That was the first time I was cuffed, but I didn’t think of anything and didn’t even feel ashamed. I accepted as a certain matter, and even worse. We climbed onto the bed of the Molotova trucks. Two armed-cadres sat at the rear. We waited until four hundred ten campers came. The convoy moved out of the Thu Duc camp at about four o’clock in the morning of April 15th 1977. I had stayed in that camp for seven months twelve days.
The convoy with a small car leading left the camp in early morning, but some people already biked in the street. Some campers in my truck threw something to the street, and I found out later that they sent home their letters. I didn’t know whether or not the letters came to their home, but that was careless because they could not avoid punishments if cadres found out.
That time, the convoy didn’t hide its route and straightened to the New Port about fifteen miles north from the Thu Duc camp.
We were released from the handcuffs and boarded the ship named “Song Huong” (Perfume River). Some said that it used to be the ship named “Vietnam Thuong Tin”, which had brought back a number of escapees from the island of Guam. Four hundred and ten campers stayed in a hold full of coal-dust. The hold was about 1,500 square feet and 12 feet high with an opening about twenty by twenty feet above. By the wall in the middle of the hold, they set a latrine by wood frame cover with sedge-mats. The toilet was a table with a small hole on the surface and a bucket underneath. We had to set our mat on the steel floor for our places, but in the small room like that, everyone had to crowd together. I was boarding early and took a place on the top of a bundle of coal-bags in the corner. That should be my look because after a day floating on the ocean, excrement spread all over the floor. A small bucket could not hold the excrement of four hundred and ten campers!
They gave us instant noodle for food and water by a rope from above over the hole. I suddenly remembered the animals in the Saigon Zoo. We looked like animals in a cave. The worse was that so many of us in a dirty small space; meanwhile a few animals lived in a cleaner cave. I could not eat anything because I was so tired and it was smelly! Whenever I was hungry, I gnawed some dried noodle and sip a little water. I tried to avoid going to the latrine as much as possible. I didn’t want to step on the floor full of filth!
The ship left the port when it was bright. Tuan and I played a guessing game about our destination. I said somewhere in North Vietnam, but Tuan said Con Non Island where used to be the prison for serious crimes and political prisoners. I didn’t know why I thought of North Vietnam. I heard my friends had moved to North Vietnam perhaps. Since Tuan and I have been held for interrogation, three more groups of campers moved to North Vietnam, so this time was not so different. Some others joined our game. After our lunch when the sun was over the west, we watched the course of clouds and the shadow of the sun and found out that the ship headed north. Everyone was desperate!
Four hundred and ten campers included about fifty from the D zone of the Thu Duc camp, those who used to work for South Vietnam government, South Vietnam Police Forces, Intelligence Services, and about fifty from the C zone, those who participated in the organizations to go against the VC after April 30th 1975 such as “Recovering the Country Forces” of Catholic, Cao Dai and Hoa Hao Religious Sects. The rest were from Tay Ninh including Police officers from sergeant to lieutenant. We were going to North Vietnam, a totally strange region. We had heard a lot about North Vietnam, about the poverty of that part of Vietnam, about the so-called “iron and blood” of the Communists. This time we had a chance to see the truth.
That evening, the ship swung back and forth as if sailing in a strong storm. Some got seasick and vomited all over the floor that mixed with dung and urine overflowing from the latrine produced a nausea smell. Someone tried to clean up, but that made the floor nastier. Some places in the hold close to the latrine had spilled all over and the campers moved to the higher places. The hold became cramped. No one could sleep.
I sat with my arms clasping my knees thinking of my wife and my son. How would they be when they knew that I was moving to nowhere? The last time seeing my son, he didn’t let me hold him! I wanted to see the pictures of them but couldn’t because I had to share room for my friends, no more room to open my bag. In addition, I didn’t want to do that in front of my friends. We were thinking of our families, but had to hide it one way or another.
Suddenly, I heard a voice singing the song “Far away”. Everyone listened to that song. “Waiting for you for a couple of years, or for my whole life, until my hair was gray, I just want to see you once.” The song was written for a wife having a soldier husband in war, but in this situation, the lyric of that song became more suitable than ever. The camper who sang that song was Ho, in the group of the campers from Tay Ninh. Ho was not a good singer; his voice was also not polished, but melancholy. He had a woman appearance with his graceful gait. We called him “sister Ho” later, but in our lives together; he had more will than we thought.
When Ho ended his song, many others joined him and sang in turn the “yellow songs” that were forbidden for a long time. Some drummed spoon on the mug to keep pace with the songs. The crowd began to gather around Ho. Nearly two year from the day of “revolution”, I was listening excitedly to the familiar songs. Everyone seemed to forget the tragic situation! No one was a good singer; there was no musical instrument, yet the old songs seemed to be absorbed thoroughly into our mind. Approaching “revolutionary songs” everyday, we loved to hear the softly streams of the “yellow music” to calm our souls and to remind us of our old days. No one dared to sing those songs in the camps because no one wanted to get punished. Yet in that concrete situation, no one cared about “the policies of the VC!”
The crowd became gradually sparse. Suddenly a group of campers fought and screamed from the other side of the hold where settled the campers from the zone C. Everyone was watching the fight, but no one interfered. The young campers in the group of “Recovering the Country Youth Forces” beat a camper whom they believed to be “antenna” in the zone C. The so-called “antennae” was the camper who reported to the cadres acts of the others. Sometimes the camper was suspected an “antenna” just because he was a group leader and not wise enough to satisfy everyone, other time, he wanted to make progress for coming home soon. Living in the camp was not easy because we had to confront everyday with many kinds of people. Besides, we had not to be a target for cadres. I chose “to hold my breath cross the river” since the beginning but could not believe that I would satisfy everyone. I was always careful when hearing that someone was “antenna”. Some hated the other and spoke ill of him, or was it true! Who knew?
Three campers named Long, Tri, and Dung came to look for Uyen and Don. They said that Uyen and Don were the “antennae” in the D zone. I didn’t know exactly about Uyen and Don, but I thought they were at least educated, Uyen was graduated from the College of Letters, and Don was an architect. I didn’t think they would easily become a “hunting dog” for the Communists. Yet, who knew? Tuan and I told them not to do that because we didn’t know exactly about Uyen and Don yet. Besides, what would happen because we were still in the camp?
The fight interrupted the “yellow music”; the campers came back to their place. No one could sleep. I closed my eyes relaxing. After coming into the camp, I tried to practice a little of Yoga. Every night before sleep, I usually sat in lotus style. Two hands put on my knees. My eyes closed, and tried to think of nothing separating myself from my situations. Sometimes I felt feather light as if I could fly away from the earth like a bird in the field full of flowers, or dreamed of my childhood going to school surfing on the street with the wings on my feet. Waking up, I tried to analyze my dreams and thought that was just a dream of freedom.
Early morning, the hold became nastier when it rained. Campers used everything possible to cover their stuffs. Raindrops added with dung and urine to form slimy puddles on the floor. Campers huddled in their places trying not to go without necessity. Campers took turn to collect food and water. Even though we were so tired and hungry, no one could eat or sleep! I didn’t know if worse thing would happen in North Vietnam, but I hoped that I would come there faster to avoid this tragic.
Around noon, the ship stopped. Some campers who used to be in South Vietnam Naval Forces said that it landed some where in Central Vietnam, could be Cam Ranh or Da Nang, because it was too early to come to North Vietnam. I could not know if that was true, but I still hoped that we would stay in Central Vietnam. We readied to leave the ship. At least we were no longer in the filthy hold!
We were waiting, waiting, and waiting until dark. It still rained but gradually sparser. They didn’t give instant noodle but some watermelons for our dinner. Without knife, we broke them into pieces on the floor. Skins of the melon threw into dirty puddle to create even more disgusting for the hold. Yet the campers believed that they should leave there soon and paid no attention about that.
When it was totally dark, they opened the cover of the hold and sent down a ladder. We climbed onto the deck. I saw some small islands from the distance and some boats with the sails having many rolls, the special sails of North Vietnam and knew that we arrived the North Vietnam Gulf. No more South Vietnam, no more Central Vietnam, we came to North Vietnam, to the center of the Communists of Vietnam! Everyone was desperate.
Another group of campers climbed onto the deck on the other side of the ship. We hadn’t known about another hold in the ship. We stood in a two-row line and a cadre cuffed two campers standing next to each other before landing. My right hand was cuffed to the left hand of Nghiep, and we walked on two wooden boards from the ship to the quay. With a handcuff without chain on the hands of two people, when one person was moving his hand, other had to move his hand in the same movement if he didn’t want to hurt himself. Nghiep and I difficultly moved on the bridges. They recalled later that when landing, a couple in the other group fell into the sea and disappeared. Some said that they killed themselves, but I thought that one camper slipped and pulled along the other; they could not pick themselves up with the handcuff and their heavy bundles on their shoulders.
A line of motor-coaches waited for us on the port. Nghiep and I took our seats in the middle of the first car. It was about six p.m., but the sky was dark because it was still raining. In April, it was still cold with drizzle and North Wind, which I used to read in many books about North Vietnam. I sat on the driver side by the window and looked at the outside. The port was totally deserted. The broken quay seemed to have experienced numerous bombardments. Lights of sailing boats in the bay flickered from a distance. The silhouettes of the islands looked like monsters rising up from the ocean. That was a beautiful spot of Vietnam, but we could not enjoy it!
Cadre gave each of us a loaf of bread. The convoy started around midnight. The VC was familiar with dark activities; they usually moved us at midnight!
The city of Hai Phong was near by. The convoy drove into that city, the second biggest city of North Vietnam. I saw many thatched cottages intermingled with bricked houses. Some houses had half brick half thatch; the street scattered of potholes: the traces of destruction from the war. The city was so dark. A few old oil lamp poles from the period of French colonization still existed. I saw the only cafe shop having florescent lights. The cadre reminded us to close the windows to avoid people throwing stones at us! Yet, I didn’t see many people in the street except for some children who indifferently looked at the convoy. Some people rode bicycles full of bundles. The city was quiet.
The convoy got out of the city in a few minutes. I thought that was only the edge of the city. I tried to watch the activity of the people in North Vietnam but saw nothing. Feeling tired and hungry after two days on the ship, I fell asleep after had a bit of bread and water.
I woke up when the car was driving in the forest. Some people pushed their pack-bicycles full of firewood on the roadside. The first time I saw the so-called pack-bicycle of North Vietnamese. That kind of bicycle had only a frame and two wheels. People used a long stick tied at the handlebar of their bicycle to steer it; they put heavy stuff on the frame of the bicycle. They could not sit on the saddle because there was no saddle at all. They had to walk beside the bicycle and drove it by their left hand and held the stuff with their right hand. That kind of transportation had been well known in the Dien Bien Phu Campaign for transporting weapons and ammunitions to the battle. Some women carried bundles of alang grass, firewood, or a basket on their heads or their shoulders. The poverty in North Vietnam appeared plainly.
It was early morning when the convoy turned right on a rough track into a forest of Styrax. To the stream, the first car stopped waiting for the convoy, and then the convoy dived into the stream! The current flowed violently; we were horrified because we were trapped in the car with the handcuffs. The drivers drove slowly but easily through the stream. The convoy crossed three more streams like that before reached a wide river. The cadre in my car said that was a branch of the Red River, the largest river in North Vietnam. I wondered how the convoy could pass the wide river without a bridge. I thought it would not be as shallow as a stream! I saw a sloping street toward the bank of the river. The convoy stopped for about an hour, and then a ferryboat came from the other side of the river. It was an old small motorboat pulling a small bamboo raft. It could carry one car at a time! My car was the first in the convoy, so it came onto the raft. The river flowed violently; the car swung on the raft. The boat drove slowly upstream pulling the car to the opposite bank, and then some people tied a cable to the raft and pulled it to the bank. The boat then moved back for another car. Everything happened like an ancient story! It took more than five hours to do the job.
My right hand was numbed. The cuff was so tight though my wrist was small. I tried to massage it by my left hand. Sitting silently beside me, Nghiep seemed to sleep though I knew he was still awake. I asked the cadre to go to take a leak and came to a bush at the pavement. I felt a little easy after that. People stared at us. Some children wearing shorts and mended shirts yielded “Nguy, Nguy” (that word of North Vietnamese to indicate people who have been working for South Vietnam Government and Armed Forces), but no one threw stones at us as the VC had said. Some campers threw a few pieces of bread to the children; they caught and ate it pleasantly. Some children even came near the car and took watermelon from the campers. The cadres had to drive away the children. The convoy restarted when it was dusk.
Forests after forests, mountains after mountains, and the convoy crossed many streams. I sat nodding tiredly and woke up when it was dawn. The car was shaking on the potholed-asphalted road. Hills of tea-trees by both sides of the street looked like Da Lat, the central highland of South Vietnam. Now and then, some groups of people carrying basket on their back picked tea. They appeared and disappeared between the straight lines of tea-tree. Some people rode bicycles on the street. They went to work for “cooperative” farms perhaps! We heard about the land reform in North Vietnam in 1955 that there was no more land for individuals; everything was for common used. In ten lessons, the VC said that land and tools belonged to everyone in the society. They called that the common owner. The people owned everything, but they had nothing! Their earning depended on how much they worked. We joked that who worked less would get less, who worked much would get much, and who worked nothing would get everything!
The convoy came to a small city in the early morning. I saw the sign “the people-committee of Phu Tho” hanging in front of the brick house. Phu Tho was a part of the province Vinh Phu (including two old provinces: Vinh Yen and Phu Tho) in the midland of North Vietnam. The township was small with some brick houses and the rest were thatch cottages. The fields of manioc and tea-trees showed plainly the special products of that region. China trees lined in the fields and along side of the streets. The local people used that tree for building their cottages because it prevented termites by its bitter resin. That season, China trees bloomed their pale violet flowers. Hills of fan-palm were another character of countryside in North Vietnam. South Vietnamese used nipa leaves, a kind of palm tree grown in water, and North Vietnamese used fan-palm leaves for roofing. Most houses in that region had earthen walls and a small pond in the front yard. I learned later that they dug the pond to get soil for the floor and the walls and the pond for raising fishes.
Over Phu Tho, the convoy turned right on a rough road into the jungle. The chain of mountains appeared in the distance. The people of minority groups stared at us. They were Thai, H’Mong, or Tay, I didn’t know exactly, but they carried high baskets on their back and scimitars in their hands. Hills and mountains surrounded small valleys. Terraced rice fields on the hillsides looked from a distance like snakes crawling out of their holes. Houses on stilts with high curved roofs were a character of the mountain area. Dirty pot-bellied children intermingled with pigs and chickens were allowed to run freely on the ground. Dogs snapped lazily at the doorways. Everything curiously looked at us when the convoy drove by. In that remote area, cars were very unusual.
Around noon, the convoy crossed the wide and violent stream named “A Mai” at a place named “Ben Ngoc”, drove about an hour on the twenty feet wide clay road. There were more thatch houses by both sides of that road. A compound with some brick houses were fenced by bamboo and barbed wire. I saw the sign: “The general school of agriculture and industry number 1” on the right side of the road. Children in dirty pale-blue pajamas about ten to fifteen of age worked in the fields around under the surveillance of armed men in police uniform. They were prisoners or students of that “school”! The convoy finally stopped at the front gate of the camp; we arrived at the “Tan Lap” re-education camp at Vinh Phu after one and a haft day in the cars from Hai Phong port. It was around noon on Thursday April 21st 1977.
Chapt. 24 - The Tan Lap Camp
Two rows of “cadres” stood in front of the camp! The yellow uniforms with army rank we hadn’t seen in the camps in South Vietnam. They un-cuffed and escorted us into the camp. I saw a banner above the front gate --Welcome to the Socialism of Vietnam.--
The Tan Lap re-education camp located in a valley surrounded by mountains and forests. From the camp, we would not be able to see the horizon. The only route to the camp was a twenty feet wide clay road from Ben Ngoc, a wharf named after an ancient superior who found it. Those who wanted to go to the camp from Ha Noi had to take a train to Am Thuong station. The only means from Am Thuợng to Ben Ngoc was a small hand-rowed boat sailing along a branch of the Red River, the largest river in North Vietnam. From Ben Ngoc to the camp they had to walk or bike.
There were seven camps in the Tan Lap re-education camp named K’s from K1 to K7. We came to K5, the central headquarters of the Tan Lap re-education camp. K1, K2, K3 and K4 were four other large camps and the others smaller. The first K from the Ngoc dock was K5; and the last was K1 about ten miles north from K5. K3 was separated from K5 by the A Mai stream. K2 was half way from K5 to K1, and K4 was about six miles west from K5. K6 and K7 were the transaction posts receiving supplies for the camp.
The clay route from Ngoc dock to K5 about ten miles came through a high slope-street named Trinh slope. The road from the turning point of the main road to K5 crossed the field named Mua because plenty of bushes of Mua growing there. Mua was a kind of myrtle having a pale-purple flowers and blue-black berries. A cow-house at that turning point stood as a landmark separating the land of the camp with hills and forests near by. From that turning point to K5 was about half a mile.
The K5 complex of the Tan Lap re-education camp was divided into two parts: the headquarters and the prison.
The headquarters of K5 was also the headquarters of the camp. It contained three brick houses used as offices laying in U shape and four rows of thatched houses for cadres living single. The nicest house at the bottom of the U shape stood on a high foundation. It was the office for the whole camp and for the chief of K5. Two other brick houses were the offices for the warden and the committee of cadres of K5. Four other rows of thatched houses in separated area were the houses for the families of cadres. The kindergarten for the children of cadres was built next to the area of cadre’s families. Scattered around the area of the camp were some thatched cottages called “lot-houses”. They were used as the working stations for campers and also the guarding stations at night.
The prison was the square area about fifteen hundred feet each side surrounded by a brick wall about ten foot high with barbed wire about five foot high stretched on its top. By both sides of the wall, except the front wall, was a deep ditch full of water. The front gate was a two-storied building with two watch stations by both sides of the twenty-foot wide gate. The upper level stretching over the gate was used as the office for the cadres on duty. Four zones in the camp named A, B, infirmary, and the kitchen and the hall.
A large yard about an acre beyon the gate used as a plain view for guarding and a gathering zone for campers. The zone A at the right corner of the area contained four brick houses roofed by fan palm leaves and surrounded by a row of rooms. The houses in the zone A were separated by an eight-foot high mason walls with fragments of bottle on the top. There was a locked door on every wall. The zone B at the left side of the camp included two houses without fence. At the left side of every house they built a six-foot-deep underground concrete pool about thirty by fifty feet holding water bumped from the stream. Each house contained two cells with four ten-foot-wide compartments for impounding campers, two storage compartments at both sides, and two compartments at the middle for restrooms.
Cells were fifty-by-twenty-foot rooms high about fifteen feet. A wooden panel door at the end of every cell could be locked from outside by a latch passing through steel rings. Fourteen two-row-vertical-steel-bar window-frames in each cell, six by the back wall, six by the front wall, and two by the side wall were wide open all year round for ease of security check. Two two-level-wooden stages framed by L steel were the sleeping places for the campers. Those who slept on upper level had to climb on the steel steps welded to the vertical pole of the frame. The shelves where the campers put their stuffs set along the walls above the windows on the upper stages. The campers who stayed on the lower stage had to put their stuffs on the shelves in the restroom. The lower stage was elevated about two feet from the floor and the upper stage about five feet, so the campers could not stand straight in the lower stage. A six-foot walkway between two rows of stage came to the “restroom”. The ceiling was made by bamboo-knitted wattles with barbed wire hidden above. The only electric bulb in the middle of the ceiling gave a pale light at night, but it was replaced by a flickering light of a self-made kerosene lamp, a cut bottle having a wick hanging right above kerosene.
The “restroom” was a room about twenty by eighteen feet with right side was the toilet and left side the storage. “Toilet” was a concrete latrine high about two feet with two footed-shapes by both side of a hole. Campers had to squat on the latrine and defecated through the hole to a wooden container underneath. Fresh excretes would be removed the next morning from a small opening outside of the room and became fertilizer named night-soil! That was a popular latrine called “three-room latrine” in North Vietnam. Storage for the campers who lived in lower stages was set in the front side of the “restroom”. There were three four-level shelves along side of the walls. The door of the restroom could not close tightly, so the cell always smelled.
The infirmary zone had a hundred by twenty five foot bricked house in the area about six hundred by a hundred foot at the left side of the camp surrounded by a barbed wire fence. The gate at the right side of the fence connected to the garden of herbs in front of the infirmary. Close to the right side of the house was a pond raising Tilapia fish. The left side close to zone A was a mulberry hedge. There was no physician in that infirmary except a cadre and campers without experience of health care. Most of medicines were the so-called “populous medicine”, small balls or powder of dried leaves or dried roots.
The hall, a largest construction in the camp about forty feet wide, a hundred fifty feet long stood on an earth floor rimmed by brick straight across from the front gate. It was roofed by fan palm leaves and walled by soil mixed with straw. Its window bars were made by bamboo, and a wide open door paralleled with the front gate. A stage with the red curtains at the end of the hall indicated that the stage was made for entertainment, but the hall was empty!
The kitchen zone close to the hall at the left corner of the camp included two cottages lying in L shape: the cook-house at the end and the house paralleled with the hall for warehouse and for delivering meals. The kitchen zone was enclosed by barbed wire with a wide gate at the left side and a small gate at the right side. The cookhouse was an opened cottage with six stoves: three for boiling water and meals, and three for rice steaming (exactly for cooking cassava root, or corn, or “Kaoliang”). The only well in the camp next to the cookhouse was seen plainly from a distance by a long bamboo crane. They tied a block of steel at one end of the crane and the other end a rope with a bucket. In the sunny season, the well was deep, but water was clear. In the rainy season, it was full with muddy water. Yet, we had to drink it anyway! A small cottage close to the cookhouse held a buffalo. The carriage in North Vietnam was different from that in South Vietnam by the two wheels: they were car tires instead of wood rimmed by steel. . They used buffalo instead of cow to pull the cart, and we called that “buffalo-cart”.
They didn’t search our stuffs and led us straight to the zone A. I belonged to the first team, so I had to live in the first cell of the first house. When I came to the cell, Tuan called me to the place that he had reserved for me close to his at the upper end corner of the cell. They put a sedge mat, a mosquito’s curtain, two blue pajamas, and a sedge helmet at every place. Tuan, Loc, Hanh, and I stayed in the stage for four people, so we would not scare of the others who overheard our conversations.
The first thing was bathing and washing my clothes by the pool at the end of the house. I pulled water from the pool by a rubber pan tied by a rope. I felt a little relaxed after that and tried my new pajama on. It was clumsy! The funniest thing was the sedge helmet. We laughed seeing each other in those prisoner’s uniforms! We looked like the laborers in images from China that we used to see. The blue color of pajama reminded me of the verse of To Huu, the poet in North Vietnam: “When I was released from blue pajama, there was no more cuff, chain, and rod.” The blue pajama for prisoner that To Huu mentioned in his poem was from the French colonial period, and then the VC imitated it! The difference was that we were not “prisoners”; we were “campers” in re-education camp! Prisoners had their sentences, we didn’t. We had to make progress in order to come back to society! What funny to be imprisoned without a sentence.
About 2p.m., some criminal inmates brought lunches into the “dinning room”, and then cadres called us to have dinner! That was the most plentiful dinner we ever had: a pot of rice, a big bow of buffalo meat, a can of soup and a bowl of pork for six campers. There was something in the rice that we could not identify. Some said it was a kind of bean, but we knew later that it was a kind of kaoliang for domestic animal. Buffalo meat was a tough bit of meat. In South Vietnam, people rarely ate buffalo meat, but in North Vietnam, buffalo meat was common. We could not eat the whole meal, so we kept the excess. It was too early for dinner but a little late for lunch. Campers waited for dinner and hoped that we should have another plentiful meal again. Some campers didn’t even take their excess meal and said that they would have the meals like that every day. What funny! Yet, there was nothing more. Cadres locked the cell around 6p.m., and I fell into a deep sleep soon after.
The day after, we came to the hall to hear the chief of the camp, the “comrade” Thuy! He was pale skinny and about five feet four inches high. The white shirt hanging out of his yellow trousers looked like a high rank Communist style. His speech was as fluent as any of the others! Thuy was the chief of the camp. At first glance, he looked sympathetic, but with his smile without opening his lips, talking without opening his teeth, we knew that he was wicked. With his accent hardly to understand of Nghe Tinh, the homeland of Ho, he quoted many verses of Ho Chi Minh in his speech. Yet in general, his speech was just about the awareness of “the Party and the State” to those who were guilty to the people. They wanted to move us closer to the central for ease of our re-education. Then, in his conclusion he said that who made progress should be released early. Nothing was new; we heard that over and over in any camp!
Chapt. 25 - The Hunger Strike
The first two days in the Tan Lap camp were our free days! We gathered to sing “yellow songs”, had lunches and dinners, washed, and wandered inside the zone A. We could not go out of the zone because they closed the doors, but we could go from house to house to see each other. The criminal inmates who worked in the kitchen brought us meals. Some other inmates in the rivals only watched us from outside.
On Sunday, April 24th 1977, after the cadre on duty and an armed cadre opened the cell doors, I heard the screams from the yard when Tuan, Hanh, and I were drinking tea at my place. An exited crowd in the front yard was screaming for a fight. Some campers beat Thuong, the camper of “the Intelligence Bloc”. They said that Thuong cowered in front of the cadre on duty when he spoke to the cadre with his arms folded. After the fight, Thuong’s right hand was broken! I didn’t see the behavior of Thuong that morning. He was not my close friend, and he was just an ordinary camper who chose the way to hold the breath cross the river. If he folded his arms when speaking with the cadre, I thought, that was just a habit in the cold weather of North Vietnam. The youths in “the Recovering the Country Forces” were patriots, but they were too young to understand everything. Their resentment against the Communists pouring onto Thuong was totally unfair.
Cadres and the Rivals took Thuong to the infirmary and closed the doors separating the houses in the zone A. Campers began to gather in the cells, and from the second house I heard the song “Vietnam: the proud country”. Some campers came to tell Uyen and Binh joining them. A hundred of campers in two teams stayed in the first cell. Uyen, camper from zone D of the Thu Duc camp was the leader of the team one and Binh, camper from zone C of Thu Duc camp the leader of team two. Except for the campers at the pool, the campers got together in the cells and sang “yellow-music” and “struggling-music”.
About ten, four armed cadres and the cadre on duty came into the zone A escorted some campers to the hall. They were the campers who beat Thuong that morning such as Tri, Long, Binh, Dung, and some others. After a while, they let Long and Dung come back and sent the others to the K1 for almost three months. Some died there, and those who survived were in bad shape.
The inmates brought our lunches to the dinning rooms as usual, but I heard an order not to eat. I didn’t know who gave that order. No one dared to go to dinning rooms because no one wanted to be beaten! Perhaps that was the first time it happened in the re-education camp. Armed cadres walked around the zone A but didn’t go in. The cadre on duty came to see Uyen about the occasion and some required that their friends had to be back before they took their meals. The hunger strike began!
The song “Vietnam: the proud country” was repeatedly sung keeping pace with the claps creating an excitement! I used to see that familiar momentum in the movements of the students that induced by the Communists. It happened right in the camp of the Communists. Even the songs such as “Get up and marching” and “Voluntary” became a weapon to go against the Communists. “Who win without fail? Who was wise without any misery”, or “Being a human, I should die for my country.” Those words became suitable more than ever.
Tuan, Hanh, Loc, and I were staying at our places and drinking tea for our hunger! They didn’t bring our dinners and still left our lunches in the dinning rooms. At 6p.m., the cadre on duty and an armed cadre came to check us in as usual. We didn’t line up in the front yard and had to sit at our places to count in turn. The campers sung yellow music and struggling music until midnight even though they shut the light early. I didn’t know much about the songs, so I sang a “post war song” named “Jealous”. That was only a love song. We got into our curtains at about midnight. I fell into a tired sleep with my empty stomach.
The hunger strike has begun noisily and then stopped in quiet!
The Communists isolated without restraining us from doing anything that we wanted to do. Without a support, without any organization to lead, the struggle looked like a small fire, fast burned fast vanished! The VC didn’t need to crush out the revolt; it would last by itself. I knew that and waited for the acts of the Communists later.
The next morning, some armed cadres and the cadre on duty came to check out the campers. No one said about the hunger strike. The campers were tired and hungry after a day without food and a night staying late. When the inmates brought lunches to the dining rooms, the campers set their cans and shared their lunches as usual. The hunger strike stopped easily as it had begun! Some still gathered to sing yellow songs but could not draw many others. After a night, everyone realized their danger of his situation. The Communists did nothing yet, but I wondered what would happen later. I thought they could not let that go. Perhaps they had learned about things happening when they removed the campers who beat Thuong, and they would wait for it to settle down. Those who were “famous” in the hunger strike were punished later by some ways. Some died in other camps and some became “antennae” even worse than the others.
Chapt. 26 - Labor is “Glorious!”
After the hunger strike, the campers gradually calmed down! I wandered in the zone A to examine the posters drawing on the walls. Four notices painted everywhere including the four standards, the thirty six articles of the regulation, the twenty statutes of the “new cultural ways of life”, and the nineteen statutes of the discipline for labor.
The four standards for re-education included four subjects that every camper had to do in order to have progress. I couldn’t remember every word, but the tenor was:
1. Recall totally and truthfully your guilt. Report the offences of your companions or any counter-revolutionaries whom you knew although they are in the camp or in the society.
2. Try hard for your re-education; have responsibility to other campers.
3. Obey strictly the regulations and the statutes of the camp. Don’t speak disapprovingly or do any destructive act.
4. Work hard in daily labor. Promote your good ideas to manage the camp, to re-educate the campers, and to improve the efficiency of the camp.
The rules of the camp included thirty six articles in four parts: the general, the rules of learning, the rules of living in the camp, and the rules of labor.
Nineteen articles of the discipline of labor and the twenty statutes of the so-called “new cultural life” were developed in detail from the rules of the camp.
The most important was the four standards. Cadres often said that the campers had to carry out four standards in order to come back to the society. That made campers became confused between progress and self-respect. If the camper followed four standards, he had to go against the interest of others. What a tactic of the Communists to separate campers! In that situation, who didn’t want to get out? Campers were distrust of each other, and that helped the Communists manage the camp.
On Monday, the cadre came to my cell told Uyen and Binh, two team leaders, to have ten campers go to get “improvement carts”! What was “improvement cart”? We asked each other.
The cadre explained that “improvement cart” was the means to free our shoulders. We used those carts instead of carrying bundles on our shoulders. What an explanation! Yet, we still wondered about the word “improvement”. What was the improvement? A motor or something was added to the cart?
We went along with the cadre. To the gate, the cadre told us to remove our hats; we looked at each other didn’t say a word, but we felt sorry for the fates of the losers.
It was late of April. The spring in North Vietnam was still cool. We walked on the muddy clay road alongside the concrete front wall of the camp. The posters describing the activities of campers were painted unskillfully on the wall. Pale violet flowers of China trees fell on the ground, and some buds grew from their bare branches. People named them “Winter Melancholy Tree” because the trees didn’t have any leaf in winter.
The so-called “improvement cart” was a barrow having a wooden box about three by five feet and one and half feet high with two steel wheels covered by rubber and two long handles attached to the box. We pulled five carts on the clay road by the side fence of the camp next to the A-Mai stream from the headquarters to the brick stove.
A-Mai stream was shallow. The bank of the stream spread far away. A-Mai was a small stream coming to the Red River, so its course went up and down along with the Red River. In rainy season, the course of the Red River rose up, and sometimes it broke the piers and flooded the plain of North Vietnam. The cadre said that A-Mai stream used to be close to the road and flow violently in rainy days. K3 of the camp appeared beyond the stream. A bamboo raft driven by an inmate was the only transportation to go to K3. A steel cable tied to two concrete columns by both banks and the raft was connected to that cable by a truckle. The lane from the left side of the clay road came to the dock where the raft landing. By the right side of the clay road, I saw two cottages. The cadre told us that was the lot-house for campers doing carpentry work. The field behind the camp was deserted with high grass and wild bushes.
About a mile from the camp, the brick stove rose up from distance with its earth walls and rusty tin roof. The ground around the stove looked like an ancient city after digging for archaeology. A flat yard beside was a place for making brick.
We drew the carts into the cottage next to the stove. He told Uyen that he would come tomorrow to take our team to our first day of labor, and then he escorted us back to the camp.
Near the stream at the turning point next to the pump, the cadre allowed us to take a bath for fifteen minutes. We ran into the stream, took off our clothes washing, bathing in a hurry. It was almost noon but still cool. We had to wear wet clothes going back into the camp.
Not only us but also other campers were curious about the word “improvement”. When they heard our description, they burst into laughter. From that time, the word “improvement” became a joke, improvement cart, improvement meal, improvement clothes, and so on. We used the phrase “disordered improvement” for those who collected everything in their sight, and that became familiar in the re-education camps.
The campers were ready for work. The VC said that they sent us to a place having good conditions for re-education with labor. One way or another, we had to work and work hard. The fine word for “forced labor” --Labor is glorious! That slogan became familiar to every one in our country. Not only the campers but also the people in the socialists’ society knew that “labor is glorious”.
The Communists explained that by labor apes developed to human, and by labor the people provided property for the society. The development of the society depended on the labor of the people. People in Social Socialism had to work for their lives and for the society. In re-education camps, labor was a scale to measure the progress of camper, and they called that re-education with labor. The explanations were about to force everyone to work! Yet, what would we do except to do what the Communists told us? To go against their orders meant to die early. The only way was to accept our situation looking for a way to survive. When we could avoid working, we joked that “labor is glorious, but idleness is wonderful!”
The clank woke us up as usual. After checked out the campers, the cadre on duty told us to get breakfast and ready for work. Except the sick or the camper on duty to clean up the cells, the others had to get in line going to the gathering yard. The small boards with the number of team were already embedded there. The campers in a team squatted down in two lines. There were also two teams of criminal inmates. They looked dirty and languorous. Seeing them and thinking of myself, I shivered! How long would that prisoner pajama last, and how long would I be able to stand?
A cadre in police uniform with his rank of pre-captain, three stars and a stripe, the deputy in charge of K5 named Bang said some words. Nothing was new! The campers, the criminals of the Party and the State had to be re-educated. The Party and the State sent us to the re-education camps to have better means. In order to come back home, the campers had to make progressive. In three main topics for re-education, learning, labor, and obeying the statute of the camp, labor was the most importance. Campers had to work hard because that was the scale to measure the progressive. Like other cadres, Bang fluently repeated what he has been stuffed into his head.
Bang was about mid-forty, his Nam Dinh accent with the sound of “n” instead of “l” proved that his origin was a poor peasant, the major class of the VC. I heard that in order to join the Communists Police Forces, a person needed at least three generations of poor-peasant class. The Communists said that the people in that class didn’t have anything to lose except their torn short, and if they win, they get everything. What a good reason to join the “Revolution”! Intelligentsia and bourgeoisie were not faithful to the Party, only poor peasant and working class were the best.
Many cadres came into the camp after Bang finished his speech. They were educator cadres who were in charge of the teams.
The cadre on duty called every team to go to work. First, he called two teams of criminal inmates and then the campers’ in the order from team 1 to team 8. When a team was called, team leader stood up and shouted: “every one stands up”, “takes off the hat”, and then “stands still”. He turned back to the cadre on duty and reported the number of campers in his team, the number of campers who were sick, the number of campers who stayed in the camp, and the number of campers who went to work. Campers exited the front gate in two lines with their hats in their hands to the side of the row. The campers in the right line hold their hats by their right hands, and the campers in the left line hold their hats by their left hands. They said that for ease to check if something hiding in the hat, but I thought that they wanted the campers to show their respect. The armed cadres waited for us in front of the camp. The educator cadre walked along with the campers and two armed cadres behind.
In the early days, they divided us into eight teams:
- Teams 1 and 2: called “brick-making teams”, to make brick.
- Team 3: called “green-veggie team”, to plant vegetable.
- Team 4: called “construction team” to fix houses in the camp and the headquarters.
- Teams 5, 6, 7, and 8: called “agriculture teams”, to work in the field around the camp.
Besides, the criminal inmates worked in “domestic-animals team” to raise pigs, cattle, and poultries, “the forest team” to collect firewood, and “the kitchen teams” to work in the kitchen. Some other inmates worked in the so-called “wide-area” –to go without cadre, and to do things for cadres.
We walked quietly on the route to the brick stove. Two teams worked there; one made bricks and the other prepared soil. We had to dig the soil, bring water from the stream to pour into the soil, drawing buffalo to mix soil and bring soil to the flat yard for the team two doing their work.
In sunny season, the ground of clay mixing with sand was hard. We used hoes and crowbars to dig the soil from around and carried it to a hole by improvement carts. Bringing water was the tough job. We had to carry two pails of water about forty litters by our shoulders on the rough lane about half mile from the stream to the working site. The hole for mixing soil was about eight foot under the surface. We made a stairway for carrying down water and bringing up soil. Some campers knitted bamboo-plaited dustpans for bringing soil to the flat yard. Our team was divided into three groups: one for water, one for preparing soil, and one for bringing soil to the flat yard.
After soil and water was enough in the hole, two campers drew two buffaloes into the hole and drew them around in the hole. Buffaloes’ legs stamped onto soil mixing with water until it became unique. If some spots didn’t match, we had to tramp onto it. They called that “drawing buffalo!”
Coming to the brick stove, the educator cadre told me to split bamboo into tapes for the others to knit dustpans. I didn’t know how to do that, so I split bamboo into bars. He didn’t say a word but told me to dig soil instead. At lunchtime, he gathered our team and gave me as an example of those who didn’t know anything about “labor”, only lived depending on the others! That night in the cell, we had a meeting, and then the other campers criticized me until I had to admit my “fault”. At last, I said that I didn’t know about manual labor because I went to school from my childhood. When growing up, I only did the brain-labor. I promised to try harder to keep up with the others.
Everyday, we went to work from morning until dark and reviewed our works until the clanks for sleeping.
Making bricks was not better than preparing soil. We had to squat down on the yard all day long under the sun. Soil brought to the yard was divided into many heaps, brick-makers had to ram down the soil into a wooden mold, draw it to arrange on the yard, and then remove the mold for another brick. That seemed to be easy, yet under the sun all day long and squatted down from here to there; everyone got hurt in his back, his thighs, and his shoulders. In addition, in making bricks we had to do piece work with quantitative average increasing daily.
Between two jobs, I would choose the first one. Although that was heavier I would be able to move, not squatting all day long! My team and team two had to take turns doing two jobs. Fortunately, I only did those jobs for a month before transferring to a carpentry job. I didn’t know how long I would be able to stand it if I had to do that job? “Labor was truly glorious, especially forced labor!”
The VC always said about “voluntary labor”, but if we didn’t volunteer, they would force us to work or confine us!
Chapt. 27 - I was a carpenter
Making bricks was too heavy, and I scared of leeches if I had to work in the field. When the camp wanted to form the carpentry team, I volunteered right away although I didn’t know even how to use a saw! I want to recall here that the saw in my country was old style. It was a rectangular frame with two wood handles about two feet long connected one end by a bar or a steel wire and other end by a saw blade tensed with a rod in the middle. If someone didn’t know how to use it, he could not hold it straight.
They transferred me to the new team, team 10, and Uyen was still a team leader. The first day at the lot house behind the camp, the educator cadre told me to cut a coarse timber into the beams one by four inches. He showed me to put a four-inch-thick timber on two carpenter horses and sat onto it. I hold the saw by both hands; my right hand at the end of the saw frame where the blade was and my left hand by the other end. I had to follow the marked lines along the timber and moved the saw up and down to cut it. That seemed to be easy, but I hadn’t done that in my life. The saw blade moved left and right like a snake and stuck into the timber. I sweated after a while, and my shoulders were hurting like hell!
I tried to keep calm and told myself that at least I no longer sunbathed and muddied doing bricks. I had to accept the better amongst the worse! After some days, I could intentionally drive the saw. The job became easier.
In the following days, our team had to build the house of visit at the turning point to K5, across from the cow house. I didn’t know anything about construction, brick house or cottage. Some campers from Tay Ninh, who had done that, became “technicians” to show us what to do.
First, I had to use an ax to chip coarse lumbers into square shape then octagonal shape and then planed it to round shape for the columns. For the beams, we only chipped timbers into square shape.
Long, Tranh, our technicians, put the columns and the beams on the ground and drew the joints for us to chisel, to cut, and to assemble them together into house frames.
We dug a pond and brought soil to lay and ram into the earth floor. The house frame was raised up three weeks later. And then we made the roof, the walls, and other carpentry works.
To do the earth walls, we chiseled one-by-three-centimeter holes on the columns and beams, put bamboo bars horizontal and vertical, and tied them together. They looked like bamboo nets. In the mean time, some campers dug a hole on the ground, put straw and water into it and mixed them with soil, tramped with their bare feet until everything became a viscous mixture. With our bare hands, we coated bamboo nets with that mud and rubbed it to become earthen walls.
The roof was made by three layers of bamboo. Bamboo trees called “purlins” were tied by bamboo tapes rafter-to-rafter horizontally with distance about three feet. Small bamboos were tied one foot distance from the top of the roof to the last purlin. And the last layer was bamboo bars tied one foot distance horizontally. To roof, we used young fan-palm leaves about four to six feet long. We tore two small pieces of the leaf by both side, hooked them up side down into the net. After three layers of leaves, we tied a bamboo bar to hold palm leaves. The top of the roof was a row of bamboo stakes slipped over, and then we set palm leaves across together.
House frames were fastened together by dovetail joints or by bamboo sticks. We only used nails for doors and windows! The house, actually the three-by-six-yard cottage, was done in almost two months with the hard work of forty campers in our team not to mention the criminal inmates who provided wood, bamboo, and palm leaves. Yet, I got the skill of using saw, chisel, plane, and ax. That was useful for me later.
After the house of visit was done, they named my team “the carpentry and temporary-construction team”. We built and fixed wooden and bamboo houses. Besides, we did carpentry in the lot house when didn’t have construction job. Another team, team two, was also formed to do wood works such as making furniture, cut off wood into planks, and helping the construction to make doors and windows.
I tried to learn about woodworking, so I could stay in the team ten to avoid other hard labors. With a little handy and a background of mathematics, I mastered the works quickly! I could calculate everything in a house and drew the joints exactly where they were. The cadres only let me know the size of a house and then I could tell them how much material to make the house. Six months later, I became the technician of the team! I took the chance to do what I wanted.
Everyday, the educator cadre showed Uyen, the team leader, the jobs that our team had to do, and then Uyen asked me how many campers I needed. I usually asked for more people, so we could do the job easier. When making a house, I told the criminal inmates who brought materials to put the same kind of material together, so we didn’t move them too much. We didn’t want to waste our energy in the underfed situation if we wanted to survive!
In the Tan Lap camp, most houses were “temporary”, that meant made of wood, bamboo, and palm leaves. We had too much works to do, and sometimes that created an inverse situation. Cadres and their families needed houses to live, cottages to raise pigs, poultry and so on, and we were the people who made houses. Good house or bad house was up to us! What would we need? The campers always looked for food! Whenever having a chance, I always asked for eatable things such as chicken, meat, eggs, cassava roots, and even vegetables. They could not deny because they needed us.
Once, we built a house seven compartments for families of cadres. When we put the ridge-beam, we saw someone bringing a tray of food to worship and then gave it to us. They said that the “ridge-beam” was most important in the house, and in their belief, they needed us to respect that beam for their fortune. We didn’t care about anything except their food! From that time, we knew that although they were Communists, they still believed in superstitions.
Other time, when doing doors for them, we put the doors straight from the front door to the back door. They recommended us to move the back door to the other side. I knew that was their superstition. I said that was the idea of the planner cadre. They brought me a bag of kaoliang and told me to do what they wanted.
The lack of food was the main topic in re-education camp. Although doing easier jobs than others, we didn’t have anything to “improve” our meal. I tried to persuade the educator cadre if I could have a camper grow vegetable for our team. He let Niet do that. After some months, Niet replaced the inmate and became “wide working” camper who worked for educator cadre. Niet grew calabash for our team and went around collecting food for cadre. In the hell like the Tan Lap camp, nothing was more important than food, any kind of food, because everyone was hungry!
Early 1978, Uyen transferred to the “Rival Committee”. The warden sent Yem from K1 to be team leader of the team. Yem didn’t know about carpentry and construction, but as a leader, he wanted to take responsible. He let me worked in the lot house. That time I learned to make furniture.
We made beds, food closets, chairs, and tables for cadres and families. Sometimes, cadres asked me make wooden-box. That job was not in the plan, so I had my chance to ask something for myself.
After some weeks, Yem could not manage the construction job, especially a big house. The educator cadre told me to get back to my job the “technician for the construction”. I knew cadres needed me, and that was my opportunity to avoid hard work and to help others in my team. That intention made worse thing nearly happen to me when the warden played democratic game in 1979. They formed a vote for the “Rivals” and “Team leaders”. I sensed that would be the tactic of the VC to eliminate the campers whom other campers liked.
In my team, under the observation of the educator cadre, the campers deputed Yem, Sinh the vice-leader, and me. After the vote, I got hundred percent of campers choice. The meeting between the wardens and Bich, an inmate the chief of Rivals came to the decision to remove those who were trusted by the campers. They sent Uyen, Yem, and some other campers to K1 but me because they didn’t have anyone to replace me in the construction job. I stayed in the team as a technician, and they moved a camper named Tong from K1 to become team leader.
Campers came and went. Many educator cadres came to the team and left. I still stayed from beginning until I moved back to South Vietnam. Long, Tranh, Tanh, the campers in the group of 410 on the boat “Song Huong” were released from the team 10. Vui, Nam, Gioi, Tu, the campers moved to the Tan Lap camp from Laokai, Yen Bai, Hoang Lien Son were the last campers in the team. Yet, I was the only one who stayed in that team from beginning to the end.
Not everything went smoothly! Although we usually worked in the lot house, “the sun didn’t shine at our faces, rain didn’t drop on our heads,” but there were always exceptions. In storm season - North Vietnam usually had storms- we had to fix roofs for houses and cottages in the camp and in the headquarters while the others stayed in the cells, not working. The wind easily blew out Palm-leaves roofs, so we never rested in storm season!
In addition, we did a dangerous job without protection. Working on roof, especially in winter with drizzle and cold wind, sharp bamboo tapes cut our hands all the time. I fell from the roof once because the bamboo tape was fractured when I tied a purling; I lost my balance and fell down on a bundle of palm-leaves –fortunately! I didn’t get seriously injury but lost a tooth. If it were not a bundle of leaves, what would happen to me?
Another time, three campers and I cut a fig tree on the bank of the A-Mai stream. It was just a shower. A fig tree had much resin and hard to cut. The tree was on the rim between the water and the bank. We could not stand in water, so we nailed a carpenter horse to the tree and cut it about three feet high by sitting on the horse and using shark-saw (the hand saw having two handles by both sides of the fish-shaped saw blade for two people pulling and pushing). The stream level was rising up; it was heavy rain upstream! The bank was gradually far away. When finish the job, we could do nothing but swam with the tree along the violent stream. Fortunately (again), it floated ashore at last; we pulled the tree to the ground and came back to the lot house wet and cold.
Five years in the Tan Lap camp was too long to get used to everything. From the beginning didn’t know about carpentry work until I could do almost everything and became the necessary technician for the construction, I had to overcome a lot of hardship! Cadres and wardens knew me day after day. In early 1981, the lot-house of the team ten moved to new location next to the headquarters and the orange garden. I could go to the lot house by myself without the surveillance of cadre. Sometimes the warden allowed me to go alone to watch houses of the people living around the camp to get idea for the construction. I thought I could escape, and they only found out in the end of day. Yet as I have mentioned before, the camp was surrounded by mountains. I would not be able to know where to go if I tried to escape! There had been some escapes but could not go far because people around the camp, especially highlanders, who were so poor, would catch anyone who attempted to escape for exchanging some foods. Every unsuccessful escapee was dead one way or another.
--A love story-- The new lot-house was also close to the kindergarten for children of cadres. The schoolmistresses named Lan often came to the lot house asked me make some rulers. I didn’t pay much attention of her at first because she was a cadre. Yet for a long time, that became more often, and she only asked me doing that job although many others worked in the lot house. When I came to her school, her pupils told me that their teacher was going to have “makeup” before seeing me! My friends in the team 10 and even the educator cadre knew that, but only smiled at me whenever she came to the lot-house. Lan was not beautiful but looked charming. She had attractive smiles and a nice body. Our relationship became closer day after day until I moved to South Vietnam in early 1982. I didn’t know what would happen if I didn’t transfer from the Tan Lap camp?
Not only me but also some others began to have affairs with female cadres. Besides, the relationship between campers, especially the campers in the “timber-team” and “wide-area”, with women around the camp was more serious. I must say that “the policy of the Party and the State was unique”, but the people began to change their point of view!
Chapt. 28 - Under Two Oppressors
The Tan Lap camp was not a new camp as its name meant (Tan Lap means new found). It was a typical pattern of re-education camps in Vietnam because it had been founded from 1954 after the Communists took over North Vietnam. Tan Lap had been a camp for personnel of the regime in French Colonial period. In the so-called “Humanity Literary Movement” 1955 in North Vietnam, it kept the writers and the poets who had the ideas to go against the policies of the Communists. Tan Lap had also kept farm-owners in the “Land Reform” period after 1954 in North Vietnam. In the Vietnam War, American P.O.W.’s were kept there too. Before we came to that camp, Tan Lap has been a camp for juvenile delinquents. With its history like that, the formation of the Tan Lap camp was fully done.
The formation of the Tan Lap camp included the Police Forces who managed the camp and the Campers.
Police Officers were divided into two sections, the “Camp Warden” and the “Committee of Cadres”. The “Camp Warden” or the “Board of Supervisors” included those who managed the general matters of the camp such as the Chief of the camp, Deputies in charge of every K, Deputies in charge of planning, education, execution, and security. The Committee of Cadres including Educator Cadres who were in charge of every team and Armed Cadres, or Security Cadres, who guarded the camp and watched campers doing labor out of the camp.
Campers in the camp were divided into teams and groups. Team had about thirty-to-forty campers with a camper who was trusted by warden or educator cadre being a team leader. A team was divided into three or four groups depending on the tasks of the team. Each group of about ten campers had a group leader to watch over the work of the group given by team leader or educator cadre.
The special formation of the campers in the Tan Lap camp was the “Board of Rivals” including the “Permanent Rival” and the “Self-management Committee” combined by team leaders. That was the ears and the eyes of the Warden and Cadres.
When we just came to Tan Lap camp, the Permanent Rival was in the hands of criminal inmates, and Bich, a skew-eyed-buck-toothed guy, and Khoi, handled everything in the camp. They were very powerful! Once, they told me to come to their “office” drawing a banner, I saw the planner cadre came to their office. He needed some campers to go with him. Bich was being massaged by someone in his room; he shouted out that “tell him wait for me, I’m busy!” I didn’t know what kind of prisoner he was! If that was another, he should be severely confined instead. Another rival, Khoi, sat every morning in the infirmary to allow campers who were sick to stay in the camp. Campers who wanted not to go to work had to give him something! While campers ate a small bowl of kaoliang, they had plenty of food; while campers were locked in cells, they had their own bedrooms and servants to wash and iron their clothes! They seemed to be the kings in the camp. No one knew what kind of crimes they had committed, and what sentences they were serving. I have heard from some criminal inmates that Bich used to be a finance cadre who worked for the department of finance in Ha Noi, the capital of Vietnam. He had stolen money from his department and was sentenced to twenty years. Khoi, an officer in the province killed his wife and was sentenced to life in prison. The Camp Warden trusted them and gave them authority to manage the camp.
In 1978, some campers from “South Vietnam” joined the Rivals and Khoi was moved to K1, but Bich was still the head of the Permanent Rival until released in 1981.
I didn’t want to criticize or to condemn any of the Rivals from South Vietnam. I just recalled here what happened in the Tan Lap camp. For those who lived in the Tan Lap camp, they knew about the Rivals, and for others, it was hard to believe the acts of the Rivals. I didn’t know whether they were prisoners or cadres! It was so easy to become a kind of “hunting dog” when people lost their conscience.
Uyen, Binh, Tu, Dieu, and so on, the rivals headed by Bich and acted like Bich. The campers were suppressed by two organs: Cadres and Rivals. The wicked trick of the Communists was that they threw the stone hid their hand. They used the Rivals as their means to manage the campers. Cadres always said that the policy of the Party and the State was not revenge. If bad thing happened, that was personal causes, not the policy. What the Rivals did were their ideas, not the idea of the Warden or Cadres! Many campers were not as angry at the Communists as the Rivals. They forgot that Rivals were the campers who did what the Warden told them to do.
The Rivals observed, overheard, and criticized from outside of cells when the campers had meeting.
The Rivals organized their own –antennae system- included those who became Rivals’ ears and eyes.
The Rivals ordered the campers who violated the regulation of the camp to the office, and then beat them.
The Rivals forced the campers who were sick to go to work.
Many acts of the Rivals created the vindictive hatred from the campers.
That tactic of the Communists was successful in the re-education camps, especially in the Tan Lap camp. Campers were more terrified of Bich, Uyen, Binh, Tu, and Dieu, the Rivals than Thuy, Bang, or Trung, the Wardens.
Chapt. 29 - Turn the head toward the mountain
Winter 1977, the first winter we lived in North Vietnam. It was so cold especially for the hungry and skinny campers. Tattered clothes could not cover their bodies, and slept without blanket in the cells having windows wide opened for ease of control. Drizzle and North Wind were something we had heard about the bitterness of the poverties in North Vietnam. That time, we had to live in the worse circumstance than poor people, in the hell of the world!
Luu Dinh Viep, the former judge of the Court of Appeal in Saigon had diabetes. He worked in the “vegetable team”. One day, a leech bit his foot; blood could not be stanched, and he could not stay in the camp either. Everyday, he carried the so-called “fresh fertilizer” to asperse vegetable. Fresh fertilizer called Night soil was a mixture of fresh discard from the campers and water from the stream. His injury was infected, and without medicine, he died some weeks later! He was the first camper who died in the Tan Lap camp.
After that, campers died one by one. Some campers died after smoked rustic tobacco; their hands still held the pipe. Some died in the field. Some died sleeping.
I worked in the team 10, the “carpentry team”. We made coffins almost everyday, and the criminal inmates in the “timber team” buried the dead.
It was a winter night of December 1977. We were meeting after the cadre locked the cell. The tinkle sound unlocking the door interrupted our meeting. The educator cadre came in and told Uyen, our team leader, to have five campers go with the cadre. That was my turn; so four campers and I went with the cadre to the lot house to make a coffin for a camper who just died two hours ago. That was unusual because we usually did it in work shift.
We didn’t have any board in shape. We had to cut coarse wood with handsaws; planed them smooth, made their edges straight, and then nailed them became a six-by-two and half-by two-feet box with a lid ready for nailing. The coffin was done about midnight, and then we carried it into the infirmary to put the dead and his stuffs into it.
We tied two ropes to the coffin at both ends, and passed a bamboo rod through those ropes for ease of carrying on our shoulders. One of us brought a tray having a bowl of rice, some bananas, some incense sticks, and two small candles. One held a torch to light the route because it was so dark. One brought a spade, and two carried the coffin. The educator cadre in front and two armed cadres behind, we walked on the winding-upright-clayed road toward K4. The cemetery for dead campers set on the top of an old tea tree hill about ten kilometers from K5. Under the glittery light of the torch, the small tombs lying disorderly looked like tilled land. Our friends were laying there! Yet, at least their bodies and their minds were no longer persecuted; their families didn’t have to wait desperately for them!
Tho, a camper wrote a song named “Turn the head toward the mountain”:
“Once I died, you didn’t have to wait for me any longer.
“And then when I was dead, I was laying my head toward the mountain in the tomb without a tombstone, without any incense.
. . . . . . . . .
“Please grow a tiny wild flower on my tomb.
The inmates had dug the pit. We put the coffin close to the edge of the pit, burned the incense sticks and the candles, set rice, salt, and bananas on the tray. I secretly prayed for him to have peace in heaven, and then we sent the coffin down into the pit, filled the tomb, and came back to the camp.
It was almost dawn; they gave each of us a bowl of rice and some salt and let us to stay in the camp. That was the first time I buried the dead, I didn’t remember his name. Yet, that was not the last time because after that, we had to take turns to go almost every night!
First, we made coffin when having a dead person; later we did them ready at daytime. Too many campers died, died starving, died sick, and died exhausted. We didn’t have wood to make coffins, so we made one for many dead. We put the body covering with a mat into the coffin, brought to the tomb, removed everything in the coffin into the tomb, and brought back the coffin for another!
The hilltop was full, so we made a new cemetery at another hill near by.
The Tan Lap camp was located in the valley surrounded by mountains. Dead campers always had their heads turn toward the mountain although they were buried in any direction!
Chapt. 30 - Hunger
Hunger was the main problem in re-education camps. In the Tan Lap camp, that became the problem between life and death. It was so hard to describe the hunger in re-education camp because that was different from any other kind of hunger. People were hungry when they didn’t have any thing to eat. Campers had three meals a day, but they were still hungry!
The very first day to the Tan Lap camp, we had a big meal with rice, buffalo meat, pork. Some days later, we still had rice with some kaoliang, that we called bobo, and a bowl of pumpkin soup. Yet, bobo gradually replaced rice until we had about ninety percent bobo with a little bit of rice, and sometimes no rice at all.
Kaoliang or bobo was food for animals in India. The grain of bobo was about a quarter of corn grain with the skin thicker and tougher than corn. Coarse bobo was very hard to cook, and the skin could not be peeled even when boiled for a long time!
At first, we chewed bobo like rice, but we found out that we discarded the whole thing. We had to chew it more careful, but its skin was so tough that got our teeth hurt. We tried to pestle it, and some even re-cooked it.
Hunger created many comedy acts, especially while sharing meals.
Bobo brought from the kitchen to the cell had to have at least two campers; one for bringing and one for watching because everyone suspected bobo could be taken off on the route. For sharing meals, the campers usually said “fairness and precise!” Yet, everyone thought his share was always less than others’. Campers didn’t trust the bowl or the spoon to measure. Someone made a scale: a stick with a stone hanging by one end and a disk hanging by other end. That was not enough; some suggested to count in an order or to pick any number by chance and then the first one took that share even if the container was not his. What a comedy! Vietnamese proverb said that food was a dusty thing; lost a bit made people crazy! The truth of that was seen clearly in the camp.
A meal for a camper usually was a small bowl of bobo or “something equivalent with rice”, and a bowl of vegetable soup. The soup was some vegetable such as green cabbage, leaves of kohlrabi, leaves of radish, or water morning glory boiling in salty water. The so-called “something equivalent with rice” was anything the camp had such as bobo, cassava roots (or manioc), sweet potato, corn, and sometimes flour cake. Cassava root or manioc was the most because it was the main agricultural product of Vinh Phu, where the Tan Lap camp located. We named it “white ginseng!” The worse was that we ate not fresh manioc but usually the dry one, Sliced Manioc or Striped Manioc! Sliced Manioc (we called it bottle cork) and striped manioc had been cut from cassava roots including skin and hard center, dried under the sun (and even in the rain), and stored a longtime in warehouse, so it was tough and moldy. After boiling, sliced manioc was done at the outside and still raw inside, and striped manioc became a kind of viscous gruel.
Manioc, sweet potato, and corn were something that local people paid agricultural tax to the government. People in Social Socialism didn’t pay tax by money, especially agricultural tax; they contributed their products instead. After their harvest, the people around the camp carried sliced and striped manioc, sweet potato, and corn, to the camp instead of to the local government.
The people in the region were poor, they were highlanders such as Tay, H’mong, Muong, or the people in the Catholic village who had been moved from Ha Noi, Nam Dinh, Hai Phong, and some other big cities after 1954 to the so-called “new economy zone”. In order to dominate religions especially Catholic, and to take over properties of wealthy people and of the families having relatives who worked for the old regime, the Communists found the so-called “new economy zone” in distant desert regions and forced the people to come there. Some place-names such as Ben Ngoc, A-Mai, and Trinh slope have been named after those who first came to that region. Ngoc was a name of a head of the village, A-Mai a girl who first died in the stream, and Trinh was name of a girl still living who had been raped by a Communist and going madly on the slope close to the camp.
The people around the camp were so poor that they didn’t have enough clothes; they exchanged anything possible for prisoner’s uniforms! Some campers gave their uniforms to criminal inmates to exchange food although they knew those inmates would cut a lot from their food. In their hunger, something was still better than nothing! Tattered clothes could be mended, but hunger could not be cured. One uniform for one-kilogram bobo, or three-kilogram manioc, or half-kilogram rice, after a short time, new campers were more tattered than criminal inmates.
Due to the regulation of the camp, campers were not allowed to buy, to sell, or to exchange anything. Sometimes, cadres went between to get profit; they said that was helpful for both. Criminal inmates in the “timber team” and “wide area” gained much of earnings in that business.
Some violations of the regulation of the camp derived from hunger were exaggerated as a violation originated from the consciousness of the campers. A camper who picked a pumpkin because of his hunger was confined severely for the destruction the property of the camp, the property of the Party and the State, and the property of the Socialism! Some campers died in the solitary confinement just for some vegetable that they had collected in the field.
Once in a while, they gave us some sugar, just about two hundred gram for each camper. Sugar seemed to be soluble into every cell of my tongue. Some even counted every grain when put sugar into their mouths. Not only sugar but also salt was scarce. I always remember once in 1978, we were laying a floor for the house of families of cadres on a bed of sweet potato. We looked lickerish on potato roots collecting for the cadres. I tried to ask the educator cadre potato leaves for our team. We didn’t have any salt, and we could not bring any thing into the camp. We had to eat tasteless leaves to fill our empty stomach!
We could collect nothing for food in the field around the camp. Over the time, wild vegetables could not grow, grasshopper, cricket, frog, and even mice could not live. Many generations of prisoners had wiped them out. The A-Mai stream didn’t have any fish or snail! Poor people caught anything eatable. Fish, snails, and animals were perished.
We relied only on the ration from the camp, fifteen kilograms of something “equivalent” with rice a month for every camper. Manioc especially sliced and striped one didn’t have any nutrients; it filled the stomach only. Yet, there was not enough for our stomach either! For a long time eating manioc, our bodies became skinnier and our faces wider! First, I felt heavy at my cheeks, and then two jaws grew bigger. We looked wondering at each other. Were we fat? Our faces were bigger, but pale! The poison of Cyanhydric acid in the coat of manioc stored in the glands in my jaws made my face bigger. Rheum glued my eyelids when waking up; my throat dried! The room turned around when I set my foot on the ground. Sweet potatoes, called “yellow ginseng” made my mouth bitter, and I was hungrier than eating manioc! Corn, bobo, and flour cake were little better, but not as usual as manioc. Corn was a kind of animal food, not sweet corn, dried too hard and cooked not soft enough. Flour cake was flour (aiding from the USSR) kneaded and steamed about three-inch diameter haft-inch thick round cake.
I tried to train myself to eat little, but that ration was still not enough for me. While someone was sharing food, I didn’t approach, but still watched from a distance and sometimes still felt my share was less than others. I hated myself for that, but could not control my feelings.
Everyone ate in different way. Some ate right away; others kept it until they went to bed because they didn’t want to sleep hungry! Some ate slowly as if they didn’t want their food finished; others ate quickly for they were too hungry and as if they were scared losing their food. Some divided their food to many small amounts and ate each amount at a time as if they had many shares; others ate one time but chewed carefully so it could be absorbed totally.
I often poured water into my bowl then drank it as if I didn’t want to waste anything! When Uyen was team leader, I sat with him at mealtime; we ate and smoked “rustic tobacco” to outlast our meal! After he left the team for the Rivals, I didn’t bring my food into the cell; I ate it right after sharing, cleaned my containers, and put it back on the table for the next meal.
At first, we had the dining rooms close to the gate of the zone A, but no one ate in there. It was only for us to put our containers to get drinking water and hanging our working clothes. In 1980, after the campers from other camps came, those rooms became the rooms for cadres and for the rivals. We built the cottages in the yard close to our cells for our stuffs.
I didn’t know how to describe the hunger. We had three meals a day, but didn’t feel anything in our stomachs. When the campers from Hoang Lien Son, Yen Bai, moved to the Tan Lap camp in 1978 because Chinese Armed Forces attacked Northern of Vietnam, they looked at us and got scared! Although we came to North Vietnam after they did, we were too pale and skinny! We compared the difference between the re-education camps managed by police and by military over the haggardness of the campers.
The hunger and the lack of food sometimes falsified our taste. Most campers would feel sweet when put some salt in their mouth. When asked what would he like if he was released, Chuong, the camper in my team said that he would love a basket of manioc while he was on the train. Yet, he could not have his dream because he died some months later! We used to joke that we would choose a good dinner rather than a pretty girl if we had our chance. A good dinner could help us to survive; otherwise, what would we do with a girl!
Whenever having “fresh food”, a bit of pork boiling in salty water, campers wished for a bit of fat rather than lean meat. The lack of nutrition destroyed our reserve fat and our skin became gray and wrinkly. Buffalo skin rimmed the drum became a good food. Some campers ate potato roots on the field when digging them, not cooking, not peeling, and even not washing them up. Some diseases such as dysentery and cholera killed many campers. A camper working in the forging furnace grilled a small frog and ate the whole thing; he died right after that because frog gall was poison.
Using food as bait and a stick was the tactic of the VC. They told us that who worked hard should have “special ration” and who was lazy should have lesser. They divided three kinds of ration: fifteen kilogram of food for regular camper, eighteen for hard worker, and thirteen for lazy ones! That sometimes trapped some campers. They were hungry and needed more food, so they tried hard in order to have special ration. They forgot that when working hard they lost too much their energy and could not regain by some kilogram of food in a month! Big guys and those having “special ration” collapsed earlier!
Every night, the hunger made me so difficult to fall asleep although I was so tired. The small speakers in the cell murmured the voice of a famous singer of the Communists, Ai Van, the daughter of the so-called “popular actress” Ai Lien. “Life is so beautiful, love is so beautiful although bullets and bombs were violently screaming, and our bodies were injured....” The song earned the gold medal in the Conference of Youth around the World (the Communists’ world, exactly) in Eastern Berlin. I hated that but could not do anything but plugged my ears. The exercise of Yoga could not help me to overcome the emptiness of my stomach! I wanted to shout out angrily that my life and my love would be useless when my stomach was empty and when I lived in the hell of the world!
Chapt. 31 - The Dock Named Ngoc
A-Mai stream, the principal source of water for the camp and for people around the camp was one of many streams coming to the small river, a branch of the Red River. A-Mai stream flew violently, so boats and rafts could not sail on it. Supplies to the camp transporting by boats or rafts had to land on the dock named Ngoc called “Ben Ngoc”, about ten miles from the K5.
Local people recalled that long time ago, a landlord named Ngoc built that dock for exchanging his products with others. When the Communists took over North Vietnam, they killed his family. The dock was deserted. People named that dock after him since then.
Actually, there was nothing at that dock except a bank about a mile long. Its width was about a quarter of mile in sunny season, but only twenty feet in rainy season. People used the dock to land their bamboo cut from jungles in the upstream. They tied bamboos together to become a raft, sailed them over the violent stream to the dock, and then landed them there for exchange or selling to others.
Food, coal, palm leaves, and gasoline supplying to the camp were transported by train from Ha Noi, the Hang Co station, to the Am Thuong depot, and then they used ferryboat to ship on the stream to the Ngoc Dock. If there was only a small amount, they transported to the camp by buffalo carts, but if a lot more such as bamboos, palm leaves, and coal, the campers and cadres had to bring them to the camp.
When opening the cell door, the cadre on duty told us to be ready to go to the Ngoc Dock. We didn’t bring our stuffs except drinking water because we had to carry heavily back! The improvement carts had been collected and parked in front of the camp. The campers pulled the carts, turned left to the turning point, and then turned right on a clay road to the Ngoc Dock. The campers with the carts in front, two rows of campers following, and the cadres behind, we walked in hurry.
Half way from K5 to the Ngoc Dock, there was the school that shocked me the most. Its name was “The Agricultural Industrial General School Number 1”. The students in that “School” were kids from ten to fifteen. They dressed in prisoner uniforms! Their “teachers” in police uniforms watched them in the field. What kind of school was that? Sometimes, they came to Ngoc Dock to bring stuffs as well! I asked them about their school; they laughed and said that it was not a school but a camp! They called us “pop” and asked for “rustic tobacco” although they were too young. They used to be the homeless kids from Ha Noi, Hai Phong, the big cities in North Vietnam, or indocile children sent there for re-education. The so-called school was actually a re-education camp for kids. Most of them were going to come to re-education camps at eighteen or to “sovkhov” (state own farms) the rest of their lives.
The Communists didn’t have prison; they had “schools”, “re-education camps”, and “sovkhovs” instead.
Those kids were pale and skinny just like us; they also pulled “improvement carts” and walked to the Ngoc Dock with armed cadres behind. Nothing was different except their ages! Perhaps there was one more difference: They spoke dirtier and used much slang that we didn’t understand, and they rapped out “damn and fuck” too much!
We came to the Ngoc Dock around noon. The ferryboat didn’t land yet. It began to rain. Nowhere to hide, we sat crouching in the rain. Cold and hunger made me tremble; my teeth clattered. I wanted nothing but a bowl of hot rice in a warm dining room. That was so simple yet more difficult than flying to the moon! I looked at my friends. They were crouching and trembling like wet cats.
The cadres in their ponchos joked and smoked. The campers sat in line trembling in the rain. Two opposite images in one place! I didn’t hate cadres neither loved them. They were Vietnamese; some of them still had conscience. Living in a society founded on the vengefulness, they did like robots. My friend Khiem, who had gone for the VC after graduated from high school, told me when he came to Saigon in the early day that once he joined the Communists, he had a loop around his neck. He had to do what they told him, if not his neck should be tied to death.
Communism created the people who did what they were told, said what they had stuffed into their heads, and thought what they had been directed. Years after years, they learned that we were the enemies of the State, of the people, and more important, the enemies of the Party, so they treated us like their enemies.
The VC told that we were evil, who used to eat livers and drink blood of the people. We didn’t know how to explain for the children but said that we only ate chicken livers and goat blood! They also said that we robbed the people in South Vietnam to their bones and marrow, and they had to free the people and brought equality to everyone!
Some cadres changed his mind when they came to South Vietnam. Lieutenant Trung, the executive cadre hated us so much when we first came. After he came to Saigon and saw the truth about life in South Vietnam, he changed his point of view and became kinder than many others.
The rain stopped, and the buffalo cart brought our lunches to the Ngoc Dock. We took our lunches before did our job!
Four campers loaded a cart. The cart full of coal was very heavy; its wheels sunk into sand could not move although we tried with all our strength. One of us held the handle, three others pushed hard, but the cart didn’t move. We changed the way; one still held the handle, one pushed at the back, and two turn the wheels to move the cart a short distance at a time. We wrestled with the cart almost an hour to bring it to the road! After that first time, we had an experience. Whenever going to get coal, we brought some baskets and carried coal from the ferryboat to the carts on the road.
Back to the camp was about ten miles. On the uphill slopes or muddy road, we had to wrestle with the cart again and again. The Trinh Slope was the most difficult distance because it was about a hundred yards and thirty degree uphill. Local people named that slope Trinh after the name of the girl who was still living. They said that Trinh has been raped by a VC and got mad. In full moon nights, she walked nude on that slope with her hair hanging down looking like a ghost. Someone also called that slope Trinh Hong because her name was Hong.
Coming to the camp, we were completely worn out! A small piece of pork was not enough to convince us to eat right away although we were so hungry.
To get palm leaves or bamboos was not much better. Three campers a cart, the rest had to carry on their shoulders. Two bundles of leaves about twenty kilogram each was too heavy for a long walk. Cadres told us to tie four bamboo sticks at four corners of the cart and piled up bamboos or leaves higher than the edge. We tied a rope to its handles and put over our shoulders. I used to go with the cart although it was harder because I could not carry on my shoulders.
From late 1979 when the camp allowed us to see our families, the road from the Ngoc Dock to the camp was the road for our families! The Ngoc Dock became crowded. Some local people had a new job helping our families to land their stuffs from the ferryboat and sometimes carrying to the camp.
Since that time, we liked to go to the Ngoc Dock even though it still exhausted us. We could see the people from Saigon. They were close to our hearts at least.
Once I came to the Ngoc Dock to get wood for the construction, a lady came to me and asked my name and burst into tears. She was my friend’s wife going to see her husband in K3. She said that she could not recognize me because I changed so much.
Chapt. 32 - Rustic Tobacco
All campers knew rustic tobacco even if they never smoked. At the Tan Lap camp, they didn’t give us cigarettes but some shred tobacco and rustic tobacco.
Shred tobacco was the extra when people cut cigarettes in the factory. It was difficult to roll especially with narrow paper for rolling cigarette by machine. Some campers used a small flag for rolling shred tobacco. I could not roll it with the flag, so I used any other kinds of paper to roll it by hand. Besides, it was not enough for a month and we also had the rustic tobacco! What would we do with that? Some didn’t know how to smoke rustic tobacco and tried to roll and smoke it like cigarettes at first, but it would not burn for long. I did that as well. Only a few campers knew how to smoke, and they exchanged rustic tobacco for shred tobacco.
Rustic tobacco would last longer because it was smoked a small piece at a time. There were two kinds of pipe for smoking rustic tobacco: Terra-cotta pipe and “tiller pipe”. Most campers used “terra-cotta pipe” at first. It was a closed pot having two holes on the lid, one for holding rustic tobacco and the other for smoking. The hole for holding tobacco attached with a clarinet shaped “bowl”, and the other with a long pipe, usually a long and small bamboo pipe. The “bowl” had to put up side down so the small end dipped into water in the pot, and the bell-shaped set on the top of the lid. When smoking, the fume came into water before reached to the smoker’s mouth.
In the camp, we rarely had terra cotta pipes. Some campers used Soya cheese bottle, but it was not good enough for smoking and difficult to bring along with them.
Coming to the Tan Lap camp, we saw criminal inmates using bamboo pipe called “tiller pipes”, and they showed us how to smoke with that pipe. The pipe was called tiller pipe because tillers usually brought it to the field. It was a long bamboo node about two and half feet long, one and half inches diameter having one closed end for holding water and one opened end for smoking. Three inches from the node, there was a hole pierced about forty-five degree for holding the bowl. The bowl had to set how the end of it reaching into water when the pipe being at forty-five degrees and its end on the surface of water when the pipe at nearly horizontal. People bored a hole on the bowl and made it shrieking when they smoked. We would not be able to do that, so we had to exchange for it from the inmates.
To burn tobacco, we needed spills that could burn and keep the fire. Paper was very rare. We split bamboo into tape, soaked into water for some days, and then dried them under the sun.
Smoking rustic tobacco had to be practiced. Smoker nipped rustic tobacco and balled it to a small piece called “cricket”, put it on the bowl, burned the spill and then with the position of the pipe about forty-five degree, put his mouth to the opened end of the pipe, burned the cricket and inhaled at the same time; the smoke got into the pipe and the cricket was burned totally. The following moment was the best for smokers. He blew off the cricket, raised the pipe nearly horizontal so that the bowl was on the surface of water and inhaled thoroughly; the pipe shrieked, and at that time the smoker was tipsy!
I smoked rustic tobacco not long after coming to the Tan Lap camp. Phong, the inmate working with me when I painted the poster, gave me a “tiller pipe”, and also showed me how to smoke.
The tipsy feeling of rustic tobacco was different than alcohol or cigarettes. Smoker seemed to be numbed by his face, flying off the ground, trembling his hand. He had a clear head but could not control his movements. Sometimes smoker would fall down. Although he wanted to hold on to something nearby, he could not manage his hands. That first feeling happened only in five minutes or so and next “cricket” could not produce that feeling until long time after that. The campers loved to smoke rustic tobacco in early mornings because that was the best time in a day to have the tipsy.
When Uyen was team leader of the team 10, Uyen and I used to smoke rustic tobacco at mealtime. Every month, we got two or three bags of rustic tobacco name “An Thai” and “Song Cau”. In 1980, families of the campers brought the rustic tobacco the brand “999” from South Vietnam. I smoked it once and it knocked me down! My heartbeat was so fast; I fell down could not control myself. I quitted rustic tobacco since that time, gave up my pipe. It became the common property of our team!
Nhan, the male cook of the team, brought the pipe with him everyday although he didn’t smoke rustic tobacco. In break times, the campers came to him for drinking water and smoking rustic tobacco. We could not bring our own pipe! It was not healthy for everybody to smoke on one pipe, but we had no choice.
Chapt. 33 - Muong, the special inmate!
He was about fifty in the year 1977. His conviction was spreading the poems of the “humanism group”. He stayed in the re-education camps from 1955 without a sentence. I saw him the first time when I was painting a poster in the dining room of the zone B, close to the office of the “Permanent Rivals”. He came to see my work.
- “Why didn’t you paint the poster by yourselves?” He asked me.
I was surprised and asked him back.
- “What did you mean?”
- “I think you could create a poster by yourselves, not imitate it from the newspaper.”
- “Thank you, but this is my way in the camps. It’s easier for me because that banner is not mine, no one could put the hate hat on my head!”
- “You are so wise.”
He was short, but not too skinny. His hair was gray, almost white though he didn’t look too old. He asked me many things about South Vietnam, what I had done in the Government, how were my family, and so on. I replied the simple matters only because I didn’t know whether or not he was a “cadre” to spy on me.
I wanted to ask him about his conviction, his sentence, but it was too rude. Most inmates in the zone B were criminals and convicted of murder, burglary, or rape. Their sentences were ten years at least.
Phong, the inmate working with me said that Muong was “political prisoner” not criminal. He didn’t know what kind of “political” Muong was imprisoned for!
Muong worked in the headquarters, raising pigs for cadres. He stayed for a long time in the camps, so he could go anywhere without cadre. Sometimes, he brought me some food, some vegetables, and we were getting closer. He recalled about things that had happened in 1954 when the Communists took over North Vietnam. All personnel who worked for French or for the Royal Government had been sent into re-education camps and most of them died in the camps. The rest had been transferred to the “sovkhovs” –the state own farms- and lived in the farms the rest of their lives.
In the movement of “The Humanists Group” in 1955, most poets, writers, and artists having ideas to go against the policies of the Party had to be re-educated. He was not an artist or writer; he only possessed some poems of that group and was reported by someone. That cost him his life in re-education camps from 1955. Twenty two years in many camps from Lao Kai, Yen Bai, Son La, and so on, they moved him to the Tan Lap camp and waited for transferring to a “sovkhov”. He said that the VC would keep the campers without sentence the rest of their lives unless they had relatives working for the Communists at high rank, or if there was a miracle!
I asked him why he didn’t escape because he could go anywhere without cadre. He said that he came home twice, but could not hide anywhere or live in the society of the Communists. They controlled everything from our families to our relatives and neighbors.
I often saw Muong until he moved to an agricultural camp named “the Red Sovkhov” some months later.
Chapt. 34 - A day in the Tan Lap camp
A day in the camp began when the clanks waked us up. We had to fold our mats, blankets, curtains, and neatly arranged them at our “head bed”. They called that “squared blanket and straightened mat”, but I knew that it was easier for them to check things that we hid. Due to the regulations, we could not possess pointed and sharp things, could not preach any religion, could not read any “reacting and depraved” books. Therefore, beside some “sharp and pointed” weapons, they always searched for Bible, prayer books of Buddhism and other religions, and any kind of books and hand-written materials in foreign language or not published in the Communism countries. Many campers were severely confined because of that.
The cadre on duty came to check out campers not long after the clank. He stood at the door counting us walking out of the cell one by one, and then the cell leader reported to him the total of campers in the cell, the number of campers having gone out, and the number of campers sick or in the restroom. Those who didn’t go out had to yell out indicating their presences.
Some campers in his turn went to the kitchen to bring breakfast and shared with everyone in the team while the others tried to wash their faces or brush their teeth in hurry. We usually didn’t have time for breakfast, so we brought it to work and ate it later.
Another clank was for gathering in the yard behind the front gate. We had about fifteen minutes to get in line and came to the gathering site. After the campers squatted in their places, the cadre on duty called every team to go to work. The team leader stood up first, shouted: “every one stands up”, “stands still”, and then “everyone removes hat.” After that, he turned to look at the cadre on duty and reported the total campers in his team, the campers going to work, the campers staying in the camp with reasons. Campers then walked in two lines through the front gate with their hats holding to the side of the line.
On the way to the lot-house or to the field, the educator cadre let team leader know about our jobs. At the working spot, we stood still in line, removed our hats, and the team leader reported to the guarding cadre before we started to work.
From nine to ten A.M., we had a ten-minute break for smoking, eating breakfast, or drinking water. Around noon when hearing clanks, we brought tools to the lot house and got in line to report to guarding cadre and went back to the camp.
To the stream, the cadre usually allowed us ten to fifteen minutes cleans up. Sometimes we tried to take quick bath with our clothes on.
Before entering the camp, the team leader reported to the cadre on duty or a guarding cadre at the front gate. Campers in their turn came to the kitchen to bring lunch for the team; others went to the cell to get their containers for their lunches and to do their personal things such as hanging out their wet clothes, preparing stuffs for afternoon, or seeing friends.
We had about an hour at noon until hearing clanks. Campers tried to have a nap. Everything happened repeatedly just like in the morning except we had half an hour for washing in the stream.
My team, the carpentry team, usually worked in the lot-house and rarely came back to the camp at noon. We stopped working when the clanks began, went to the stream close to the lot-house, washed and cleaned, and then had lunch. The “male cook” already went to get our lunches, so we had more time for resting. I often slept on my carpentry horse. In the afternoon, we readied for work right after the clanks while other teams assembled in the gathering site.
The cadre on duty checked us into the cells around seven P.M. Some brought their dinners into the cell because they didn’t have time to eat. We got in line when hearing the clanks waiting for the cadre on duty. The cell leader reported the total campers of the cell, the number of campers checking in, and others with any reason. A day of work was over, but a day in the camp was not over yet! We had meeting to criticize and self-criticize about our strength and our weakness in a day, a week, or a month. The meetings often became more serious because the cadres or the rivals stood out of the cell hearing and making suggestion. We only slept when the light went off.
Four hundred and ten campers from the Thu Duc camp were the first campers in the Tan Lap camp. After the hunger strike, ten campers were sent to K1 for solitary confinement, the rest of us stayed in two houses in the zone A. A hundred campers in a cell meant everyone had a space about four by seven feet, enough room for a sedge-mat. In the early 1980, the campers from the camps in North side, close to the border of Vietnam and China, were transferred to the Tan Lap camp. The Tan Lap camp was crowded! K5 sometimes reached the number of two hundred campers in a cell! Two feet wide for each camper, we could only lay on our sides, not on our back, and had to turn opposite direction for not to jam together. Some even slept on the walkway. Yet, that was not as bad as the filthiness of the cells. Two hundred people with only a small latrine, that was horrible!
Bed bugs were all over, in the boards, in the holes on the walls, in our sedge-mats, our blankets, our curtains, and even in our clothes. I covered my mat with the poncho; the bugs climbed up to my curtain and “parachuted” onto my body. I could not keep them away, could not kill them all either. Some campers removed the boards and caught them, but they still reproduced. Flies, mosquitoes, bed bugs, and stinking smell, what a hell in the world! In the morning when checking out the campers, the cadre on duty didn’t stand at the door; he drew back against the wall to avoid the smell coming out from the cell.
Not enough room for our stuffs, we built the cottages in the yard close to the cells. The yard became narrower. In our days off, the yard looked like a flea market especially when the campers dried their stuffs. From 1980, the VC allowed us to see our families and received supplies; campers set the stoves at the end of the houses. The yard looked like an alley about ten feet wide. We had to stand on the veranda to check in.
To avoid the crowd, some of us often asked the educator cadre to come to the lot-house in the days off. There would not be much work in those days, and we could take the bathes and wash our clothes. Water was short in the camp because the pump was unable to supply enough for lots of campers.
Chapt. 35 - “Tet” in the Tan Lap Camp
The campers liked Tet – Vietnamese New Year – because they didn’t work and got big meals! The camp had to prepare for Tet about a month before. The Rivals formed a group of campers who had the skills in many subjects such as decorating, unicorn-dancing, and performing.
Every year, if the camp didn’t have a major building, I was usually in the decorating group to make lanterns, banners, and unicorn head. Sometimes I helped to decorate the stage for the play of the performing group.
The most important for those who worked for Tet was that they didn’t go to work and sometimes had some extra food. I was usually a group leader of the decorating group, so I could ask for manioc for making glue. The rivals gave me more than I needed, and we shared the extra. In the camp, everything was for a certain purpose, looking for food! That was the ways of survival! We had to seek any way to survive provided that we would not harm any one else!
The campers who worked for Tet because they wanted to avoid hard labor, they weren’t in a hurry! Therefore, the jobs never finished until the last day.
In Tet, the campers usually had three days off. It was cold, and cadres allowed us to have stoves in the cells! The stove was a steel container burning by peat mixing with soil. It produced lots of dust, yet no one paid much attention because a little dirtier was not a problem. Besides, we could get warm and cook something.
The campers also had special rations such as pure rice, pork, buffalo meat, rice cakes, and candy. Some having been hungry all year round could not abstain from foods; they ate all of them at the same time, vomited and discarded all around in the restroom. The cell was filthier!
In New Year Days, some campers tried to keep traditional customs. They wore their best clothes and greeted each other although they saw each other everyday.
In the evening, the performance was held in the hall, usually “renovation play”– a kind of South Vietnamese play supporting by South Vietnamese folk songs and the song of “nostalgia”. Not only the campers but also cadres and the people around the camp came to see. In that distant region, people didn’t have anything in New Year except having Tet with the campers!
When we first came to the Tan Lap camp, we had watched the renovation play named “the mother on the Red River” performing by the inmates. They sang South Vietnamese folk songs by their Northern accent, so it was so funny! Some months later, the warden formed an entertaining team including the campers with special talent such as Tanh, who could play many musical instruments like guitar, violin, 16-chord zither, two-chord fiddle (Vietnamese vertical violin), Vietnamese round-shaped guitar, and Dung, who could disguise as a pretty girl.
A part of prisoners was criminal inmates. They had different way to celebrate Tet. They hang their curtains and sedge-mats all day long to separate their own spaces, which looked like they had their rooms in the cells. They put tea, rustic tobacco, cakes and candies, if any, on their own places. The cells were dark and moldy. I came to their cells once to see Phong, an inmate who worked with me in the “cultural section”.
Except didn’t have to work and had plenty of foods, In the Tet I was home sick more than ever. From 1979, when the campers were crowded, Tet was also terrible because we were short of water. Nearly two thousand campers with an old pump running this time and stopping the other time were tragically! No one liked to work, but going out to have water in the stream was better than staying dirty in the camp.
Chapt. 36 - The Infirmary
We could say that the infirmary in the Tan Lap camp as a morgue because it didn’t have any medicine. It was just a place for the sick waiting for the Death or a Miracle. There were only some populous medicine –grass, roots and leaves— and Mercurochrome! And most of all, there was no physician or healthcare personnel.
The infirmary was the only brick house with tile roof in the camp. It stood in the right corner close to the fence and surrounded by barbed wire and mulberry hedge. Mulberry also used as a soporific medicine. In a plain area, the green color of the infirmary was standing out as a contrast spot in the painting mostly monochrome. For security reason, tree and shrub was not allowed in the camp except in the infirmary and in the kitchen. In the infirmary, they grew papaya, vegetable and flowers.
Working in the infirmary was some campers who were trusted by the warden. When I first came to the camp, Khoi, an inmate in the Rivals, who had life sentence for murder, worked in the infirmary. He was a king; he could let any prisoner not going to work and collect gifts from them. He was transferred to K1 later.
In the winter of 1978, I was exhausted! Although I didn’t do very hard work, I still had no more energy. My reserve was gone. I was nearly a walking skeleton! Every morning, I was unable to climb easily down the stage. One day, I could not get up, and my friends had to bring me to the infirmary. I knew everything, but I faked unconscious because they would force me work if I awaked. Without physician and medicine, I didn’t worry about my fake or misuse of medicine. Everybody believed that I was dying.
In the room for patients, they put me on a bed close to the front window. There were two rows of about twenty beds in that room. The room was cleaner than the cell because there were only ten or so patients and the latrine located outside of the house. Except two campers who were trusted by the wardens worked there, the patients were almost worn out or nearly dead. They didn’t pay much attention about security.
They gave me some powder of wild ginseng. The best thing was that I would be able to rest and to have special meals with rice and lots of vegetable.
My friends came to see me, but I tried not to recognize them. I heard they said to the cadre in charge of the infirmary that I was exhausted physically and mentally and got mad! They wanted to keep me in the infirmary! Like most campers who were exhausted, no one could live. Therefore, they thought I would die sooner or later.
In the early days seeing patients dying one by one, I thought I would not exclude. I was very discouraged. Yet about a week later, I felt better. The instinct of survival helped me to struggle for my life. I tried to hide my consciousness, but I knew that I would survive. I planned to stay in the infirmary as long as possible. Only there could provide me the better meals without working! I didn’t have serious illness but being famished.
At first, I stayed on the bed all day and all night for about a week. Whenever I waked up, I tried to mutter some words. Sometimes, I sang softly a part of the songs. They said to the cadre that I was mad but not dangerous! That was good for me because I could stay in the infirmary, not in solitary.
I felt better after a month although didn’t have any medicine except some powder of wild ginseng and mulberry. I knew that I could not sleep all the time, so I faked half delirium and controlled myself on that fake. I recognized and unrecognized things whenever I wanted. When they thought I was in consciousness, they asked me to do some works such as wipe the floor, pick vegetables. When they saw me to go back and forth and muttering, they didn’t let me do anything. Sometimes, I chuckled and laughed at my acts looked like I was really mad. Everyone thought I was mad either! Yet, what did I care about? I just wanted to gain my health before came back to the cell. I didn’t feel ashamed because I thought that I had to “wear a yellow coat staying with the Buddha.”
Three months in the infirmary helped me a lot, but I suspected too much agonies. Most of sick campers were died fatigue – sick without medicine plus exhausted without food. – Some regular diseases could easily kill them because they didn’t have any more resistance. A camper being tetanus had let to die terribly. Many died because of taking wild grass for cholera. Some campers got injures while working died infectious without antibiotic. A camper, who had been beaten by the cadres, laid died vomiting blood beside my bed. I could not remember how many campers died during three months, but I thought the word “morgue” applying for the infirmary was absolutely right!
I was lucky to get out of the infirmary healthy. The “health care personnel” and the “doctor cadre” let me come back to the cell with their suggestion that I had to have a routine check every week (although they didn’t know how to check it!) They were also so proud that they could cure my illness with only the populous medicines.
Chapt. 37 - The painting job
The portraits of my wife and my son brought me to the painting job in the Tan Lap Camp. When checking my stuffs, the rivals and cadres saw them, and not long after that, they called me to do the painting job.
The first time, Long who has graduated from the College of Arts, and I had to do two panels for the re-education of the campers, one with the subject of “labor” and the other of “study”. Long chose the subject of “labor” and sketched it himself. I asked Bich, head of the Rivals give me a picture from newspaper and copied it on my panel. I felt not safe to do it by myself because “they” could think of the painting in their way, especially a propagandist painting.
My painting was simple: a pen in an inkpot and an opened book on a table with a person behind as a background. The picture from the newspaper was clearly sketched, so I only enlarged it to fit the canvas.
Long, with his background of Arts, drew his painting carefully. He chose a complicated subject because “labor” was the most importance in the camp with many subjects. He sketched two prisoners feeding some pigs and chickens. He used the blocks of contrast colors to build the composition. That was obviously excellent, but I didn’t think it was suitable for those who didn’t know and even didn’t care about arts!
To do the painting in the Tan Lap Camp was not easy. To have a canvas, we had to make the frames and connected some old blankets to cover it. After that, we crushed cassava roots and cooked them with alum for preventing fermentation and spread the glue on the canvases. That was a fun part though because we had extra food! Colors were the main problem because we had nothing. We used smut mixing with kerosene for black, inks for blue and purple, mercurochrome or red ink for red, powdered lime for white, quinine for yellow, and so on. Brushes were pigtails and bamboo sticks.
We finished two paintings eight by ten feet after a month and waited for the evaluation before hanging them! The wardens, the cadres, and the rivals had a meeting in the room where we put two paintings. For the painting of Long, they said that it was good, but two campers looked so sad, that meant Long was still not ease his mind and not believe in the policies of the Party and the State! For my painting, they said that the pen stuck into the inkpot looked like the knife stabbed the heart! Bich, the head of rivals, told them that my painting was from the poster in the newspaper, and they didn’t have any other comment.
Long was sent to K1 for confinement and his painting was fixed by Phong, an inmate working in the “cultural section”. I didn’t know exactly whether they confined Long for his painting or for his acts before. Long had taken part in the group of the campers beating “antennae” in the boat “Perfume River” when we were transferred from South to North.
That was my lesson. From that time on, I never created any painting. Whenever doing painting jobs, I always asked for a sample and kept the originals for my protection.
Other time, they asked me draw a portrait of Ho Chi Minh, I tried to avoid by claiming that I didn’t have skill because I just drew the portraits of my wife and my son as my exercises. They gave Long to do that and gave me the pictures of Karl Max and Lenin instead. I drew the picture in black and white by charcoal. Long drew the picture of Ho so well, but he was still criticized that the color of the picture made Ho look like a corpse! The self-made colors weren’t bright and vital! Fortunately, Long had to fix it only.
Doing “cultural job” was sometimes dangerous, but it was an easy job and once in a while had some rewards. In the holidays of the VC such as their Independence Day, Police Day, or Armed Forces Day, I made banners, and hung them in the hall. After my jobs were done, they usually gave me a special meal.
In the early morning of December 24th, 1977, the rivals told me to decorate for the headquarters. I was really amazed because the VC didn’t allow us to celebrate any religion ceremony. I didn’t think they had Christmas! Yet, I found out later that they celebrated their Police Forces Day, not the Christmas! After a day doing the jobs, they gave me some peanut candies and escorted me back to the camp. Everything had changed. For prevent us to celebrate Christmas, they checked our stuffs and mixed the campers in other teams together. I was still in the team ten, and my friends had helped me to move my stuffs to another cell. That night, we celebrated Christmas by their candies!
After released from solitary confinement, Long worked in the rivals as a “cultural personnel”, and I was still in the team 10. I only did the cultural jobs in holidays or when they needed me. I didn’t like to do permanently the painting job because I didn’t want to stay inside the camp all the time. Working in the construction job sometimes gave me a feel of freedom.
Chapt. 38 - My Wife Came to See Me.
In 1978, after nearly two years in the Tan Lap camp, I was exhausted! I could not recognize myself when looked at me in the mirror. My hair was sparser. Water in the A-Mai stream made my hair falling a lot. My face looked pale but bigger at both sides of the jaw because of the poison of Cyanhydric Acid in manioc was stored in the glands underneath. I was skinnier though I used to be skinny.
Seeing my friends dying one by one, I wondered if I could overcome that hardness. I didn’t scare of death because that would release my body and my soul. The hunger battered me day after day. Due to the malnutrition, I always felt hungry even right after eating. I thought I would be dead a day, a week, or a month. Every night, I just wanted to sleep in peace and did not wake up next morning. Yet, I didn’t die! I thought I must have much of debt in my previous life and had to pay it in this life. Our people exterminated the people of the kingdom of Champa, the Southern Country of Vietnam, and we had to pay for that sin.
From April 1977 to June 1978, the VC didn’t allow us to write a word for our families. My family recalled later that they thought I was dead somewhere in North Vietnam. They asked some relatives and friends who worked for the VC, but no one knew about me until they received my letter.
Late 1978, after so many of us had been dead, the VC allowed us to receive gift from our families five kilograms once in three months with some limitations such as no dried food, spices, and salt. In my family’s letters, I knew they were poor when they said that the poverty was the common circumstance of the country after the war. They had to share their poverty with me. My first gift included some ordinary such as sesame, shrimp sauce, brown sugar, and so on. Something seemed to be priceless but very valuable in the camp. It could help the campers to overcome their hardness, or sometimes it could save a life.
Like a tree had been drought for a long time, the green color came right back with little rain! A little bit added into our meal helped us gain our strength; some regular medicine such as Aspirin, Tylenol, Vitamin, could cure some illness that existed long time.
Our relatives could come to see us since early 1979 but very unusual. Only those who had relatives in North Vietnam would be able to come because the transportation from South to North was difficult. From Saigon, visitors had to spend at least ten days or so for the trip! They had to wait in line to buy a train ticket, sometimes which took two or three days. From Saigon to Hanoi, the train ran about three to four days. Waiting for a “market train” (a short distance train) in the Hang-Co Station and then coming to the Am Thuong Station, that took at least two days. From Am Thuong to the Ngoc Dock, visitors had to take the ferryboat sailing a day on the river. Going to the camp from the Ngoc Dock, visitors had no choice but walked about ten miles on the slippery clay road with the bundles on their shoulders. Besides the difficulties of transportation, thieves and burglars were other problems. Then the trip came back home. Therefore, visitors needed nearly a month for the entire trip for just for fifteen or twenty minutes of visit.
In her letter in early 1979, my wife seemed to be intending to come to see me. She wrote that she was trying to see me at least once, but she didn’t have money! I was in a dilemma. I wanted to see her but didn’t want her to endure the hardness of the trip. I wrote back a letter to stop her. I said that I always loved her but didn’t want her to take a difficult trip like that. Some gifts from her were helping me a lot. I just wanted her to be calm and to raise our son. Her love would be my strength.
In June 1979, when I didn’t wait for anyone, I was called to see my wife. There were no personal clothes, so I had to dress a nearly new prisoner pajama. I didn’t have a mirror to see what I looked like, but I knew that I was so clumsy! I didn’t want her to see me like that! Last time seeing each other in the Thu Duc Camp, I was not so languorous. I had at least enough food and didn’t work so hard, and I still had my own clothes. Two years in the Tan Lap Camp was almost killing me. I was not me any longer!
I walked to the house of visit like a body without a soul. There was an only happiness mixing with a hundred of worries! How was my wife? How would she able to stand a long and hard trip like that? How was my family? How was my son? A hundred of questions haunted my mind.
She stood at the doorway when I was approaching. We sat in opposite sides of a table. I tried to reach her hands and squeeze. What we had talked about in twenty minutes I could not remember, but I thought that I only asked her about my family, my son, and about her life! More than a week coming and then the trip to go back for just a twenty-minute seeing each other, I think it were not worth.
She was still young, still “fragile”, still my love, but she seemed to be far away, seemed to come from heaven to see me in hell! She said that she went with Ngot, Tuan’s wife. They were friends from high school, friends having husbands who had worked together, and friends having husbands who were imprisoned together! I felt little easy to know that she would not be alone. When saying goodbye, I saw the bandage on her toes. She said that the bucket fell down when she tried to put it onto the carriage, and she had to walk from the Ngoc Dock to the House of Visit because the carriage was full.
How much difficulties she had for the trip, and on the way back home? That haunted my mind when I came back into the camp. I put two buckets and a bag of supplies on my place and laid down thinking of her. She was still in the house of visit waiting for Ngot to see her husband in K3. Only a fence separated my wife and me, but we seemed to be too far away! Twenty minutes was over like a dream. Could I see her again or that was the last time? Her supplies would help me a lot, but the most importance for me was her love.
I could not sleep all night waiting for the clanks. The first thing that I did when coming to the lot house was asking Lung, the educator cadre, brought me to the house of visit, but my wife has gone. Back to the lot house, I could not do anything.
She wrote in her letter later that she had wanted to stay just a night with me so we could say everything. Twenty minutes was so fast, but she was proud when her friends told her that I looked still young and not in a bad shape (even in the prisoner pajama).
The camp was changing thoroughly when the campers were visited. Campers having relatives in abroad visited regularly. The campers helped each other and the campers “orphan” had a little more in their daily ration. Like the trees in drought having shower, every one became healthier.
The campers took over the “forest teams” and the “transportation teams” from the inmates and began to get in touch with the people living around the camp. They knew us and Southerner. Some people had a new job helping visitors to bring their bundles or to bike visitors to the camp. In the distant area, Saigon fashion was very attractive. When the visitors went to the camp, children ran along, women and girls watched and discussed, and men whistled. My wife in her letter recalled about her trip that when Ngot and she were walking from the Ngoc Dock to the camp, tattering children ran along and told each other to come to see the “actresses”. She said that she could never imagine of an undeveloped area like that still existed in the country.
The families of cadres had a new job as well. They sold merchandise for visitors and for the campers. People bought things from the cities and sold alongside of the route from the Ngoc Dock to the camp. Visitors didn’t buy heavy things and fresh foods from Hanoi any longer. Cadres brought things into the camp to sell for the campers. Money was not allowed in the camp, but they ignored it.
Life in the camp was easier day after day. The cadre on duty even sold alcohol to the campers and drank with them. In the Tet of 1982, they said that the campers brought at least two hundred liters alcohol into the camp! Female cadres learned dancing with the campers in the entertaining team. Yellow music was still prohibited, but cadres asked campers teach them. All of these looked like the struggle between two cultures, the culture of the losers and the culture of the winners. It reminded me of the Mongolian who had conquered the Chinese and were acculturated by the Chinese later because the Mongolian didn’t have a developed culture. The Communists used to say “who wins whom between the two doctrines Communism and Capitalism.” They won the Vietnam War, but the war of the cultures was still happening. They destroyed books, forbad “yellow music”, prohibited fashion of South Vietnamese, and replaced them by their books, their music, and their fashions. Now they wanted to hear yellow music and to dance in Southerner’s way.
Part 5
The Camp Z30D
Chapt. 39 - Going Back South
Five years in the Tan Lap camp was too long to endure suffering, especially the early years. Many died, many got chronic ills, and many disabled. My hemorrhoid was increasingly serious without medicine!
I didn’t know how many stayed alive from four hundred and ten campers who first came to the Tan Lap camp because there had been many transfers from and to the camp. At least one-third died out of the 410 campers from the ship “Perfume River”. Some were removed from K5 for solitary confinement and disappeared forever!
After the attack of China Armed Forces at some Northern Provinces of North Vietnam in 1979, the relationship between Vietnam and China became seriously tense. Vietnam and China were no more “the lips and the teeth” as the VC used to say, but the teeth bit the lips until bleeding! The VC divided Northern Vietnam into three zones. Zone I included the provinces close to the border with China, zone II the midland of North Vietnam, and zone III the plain of the Red-River. After the attack of China, they moved the campers from zone I to zone II, and the Tan Lap camp was crowded since then. We had to dig communication trenches next to our cells ready for another attack of China.
The VC failed in attempt to found some “sovkhovs” (State own farm) for us to live our whole lives. Two sovkhovs in Thanh Hoa named Thanh Phong and Thanh Lam were just two re-education camps! They transferred the campers to South Vietnam in 1980, but the revolt of the campers in New Year 1981 at the camp in Ham Tan delayed the transfer until 1982. The Tan Lap camp prepared for that from April 1982.
From the Tet (Vietnamese New Year) 1982, rumors about the change from “political prisoners” to criminal inmates were spread all over. Most of the rumors were from cadres. Yet, we didn’t know if that would be a release or a move. Some releases earlier had not exceeded a hundred. The Tan Lap camp was crowded from K1 to K5 at least three thousand campers. Criminal inmates were minority compared with the campers. I didn’t think they would release a lot of campers like that.
In the morning of April 7th 1982, I worked at the lot house as usual. Yet from yesterday, I heard from the transportation teams and the timber teams that they already named the campers in K1, K2, K3, and K4. Everything seemed normal in K5! I was making a wooden suitcase for a cadre. That was special because it made of scarce wood. I had planed four boards for its side, just waited to cut the mortises and joint them together. That were also the most difficult job because I had to hand-saw a chain of small dove tail mortises and they needed to fit each other, if not they would be broken. I could not focus on the job, only stood by my carpentry horse watched toward the front door of the camp. K5 was the headquarters of the camp, they had to move the campers to K5 before transferred them.
The educator cadre didn’t say a word to me but told Vui and Nam, two campers in my team that nothing happened and we had to do our jobs. I heard and said to him that I could do anything he told me to do, but it could not be as good as I wanted because my mind could not manage my hands! Living too long in a camp and in the team 10, I got used to every cadre and no longer scared of them, but I always kept me at a limit so they could not have reason to confine me. Besides, making a wooden suitcase was a private job; they could not force me!
Most cadres in the re-education camp were poor. They needed some things very simple such as a wooden suitcase, a small chair, a table, and sometimes only a notebook having some paintings in it. Doing those jobs I had to keep out of the warden, but I could live easier! Sometimes I wanted to come to the stream taking bath or washing my clothes, but I told the cadre at the front gate that I needed to come to the lot house to do something. He wanted me to paint some flowers in his notebook, so he let me go with his suggestion that I didn’t try to escape and did good job for him!
Around ten A.M., the campers came. They carried stuffs. I was excited, but could not come back to the camp until noon.
We gathered in the yard in the afternoon as usual when a cadre came in and named the campers. Those who were named stayed in the camp; the others had to go to work. Fifteen campers in my team including me came back to the cell for our belongings and moved to the zone B.
An hour later, the educator cadre escorted me to the lot house for completing the wooden suitcase. Nam, my close friend was staying; he looked sad but tried to keep calm. I gave him everything in my carpentry horse. I usually hid a lot of things in there such as orange (from the orange garden close to the lot house), sweet potatoes, cassava roots, cabbage, rice, bobo, and so on. Those were things that the cadres gave me for doing their private jobs. I also gave Vui, my assistance, my tools and showed him how to complete the suitcase after I finished the side and the lid. The good-byes in the camp were frequently happening. Staying campers usually concerned for their leaving friends, but at that moment, there was an adverse situation. Seeing their sadness, I didn’t know what to say but to comfort them that there may be other transfers. Nam and Vui were released after the second transfer.
Funny thing was that some good-byes were happening between the campers and female-cadres and the women around the camp.
That night nearly everyone stayed awake. Some said that we were transferring to the Thu Duc camp. The Thu Duc camp was the camp that I left for the Tan Lap five years ago! If we came back there that would be temporary because that camp was only a transition post. We hoped that the VC would release us when we came to South Vietnam.
The next day, I put everything in my kit bag. Having the experience of the last moving from south to north, I tried to keep only very necessary things for it to be as light as possible. It was still cool, so I wore my “jacket”. It was tattered, and I had to mend it with many kinds of fabric. Only two prisoner pajamas seemed to be in “good condition”, so I put them, the blanket and the curtain into the kit bag. I had cut my poncho into two pieces, the short one for my raincoat and the rest for setting underneath the mat preventing bed bugs. I rolled them in my mat, tied on the lid and hung the bottle and the mug by the side of the kit bag. I was ready, but I thought they would move at night.
I tried to sleep early after checking into the cell. I sensed we had to move that night. Around midnight, cadres came to check the campers. We got in line, and they cuffed two of us together before got out of the camp. It was April 9th 1982; I had lived in K5 of the Tan Lap camp for four years, eleven months and eighteen days!
There was no car or truck in front of the camp. Under the escort of armed cadres, we walked to the A-Mai Stream toward the K3. That was the wrong direction if we wanted to move back South. I was worried it should be a trick. To the bank, we crossed the stream. My slipper’s thong fell off. I put it into my kit bag and from that time on, I had to go in my bare feet. Some having heavy bundles hardly moved. They threw away some of their stuffs.
At the other bank, we turned back toward the Ngoc Dock. I sighed of relief! Perhaps that was the only way to cross the stream without transportation! The lane to Ngoc Dock from K3 was across the forest of styrax. In the dark night, I could not keep away from sensitive-plant bushes and sharp rocks. With my trousers still wet and my bare feet cut by sharp rocks and thorn, I had to keep pace with the others. However, I hoped to overcome everything going back to South for at least to see my family and my homeland.
That was the first time I came to the other bank of the Ngoc Dock. It was dawn, and the convoy already parked there! We climbed onto the opened beds of the “Molotova” trucks and waited for all the campers.
It was full daylight. The people surrounded us saying good-bye, and throwing food onto the trucks. When we came, they watched us with doubt, and when we were leaving, they gave us their sympathy.
We left the Ngoc Dock in the early morning. The area looked busy. More houses had been built, some brick-houses intermingled with thatch-houses, people were denser, the land was not as deserted as before, and hills were covered with tea-trees and manioc.
The convoy reached the asphalted road about an hour later. I saw some Honda motorcycles on the road. We stood swinging on the trucks when they were driving on the road full of potholes. Seven years after the war, nothing improved except some Honda motorcycles adopted from South Vietnam! Cars still dived across streams, roads were still full of potholes, and people still used bicycle.
I didn’t know where the convoy headed, but about noon I saw some cars on the road. A car with some foreigners -white skin blond hair- followed the convoy for a long time. They didn’t have a sign to indicate what country they belonged to, so I didn’t know who they were. One of them greeted us with the V sign, and some in my truck raised their cuffs. I thought they were reporters, but didn’t know exactly because in the country of the Communists, reporters especially Westerner could not go freely like that.
I thought the convoy came to Hai Phong Harbor, but the street was different. Forest and mountain gradually disappeared; the convoy was running in a plain area. Around afternoon, traffic was more crowded. The Red River appeared along the road. The convoy crossed a bridge at rush hour. Traffic was crowded on the bridge. There were a lot of Honda motorcycles. The people dressed in colorful clothes. Southerner’s fashions migrated to North after have been banned in South Vietnam! That was the Thang Long Bridge across the Red River, the longest bridge in North Vietnam. We were coming into Hanoi, the capital of Vietnam Socialism.
People watched us curiously, but I didn’t see animosity. Some waved their hands greeting us. The people in Hanoi changed their way of life and changed their point of view also!
The convoy only drove around Hanoi. I saw the glitter from a distance and didn’t know whether or not that was the Sword Lake.
After Hanoi, the convoy straightened south. I could not sleep and sat down reclined on our bundles. I wondered how I could stand a long trip to South Vietnam on the truck like that. The convoy still drove in the dark; I could not see anything on either side of the road to figure out where we were going.
The sun was rising at last; I saw rice paddy all around. Some thatch houses with a pond in front were the special character of the plain of North Vietnam. We were in the province of Ha Nam Ninh, the new province including Ha Tay, Nam Dinh, and Ninh Binh. The convoy turned right and stopped at the end of the road coming to a river. Some campers said that was the Day River at the township of Phu Ly, the province of Nam Dinh.
On both sides of the road from the turning point to the river, houses in different styles crowded together. An open-air market was near the riverbank. Some small dories carrying passengers landed at the river bank. I didn’t see a bridge and suddenly thought of the ferryboat that carried one car at a time when I first came to North Vietnam five years ago. Would that fairy tale happen again in a township?
I saw a canoe dragging a raft from a distance. It was not a bamboo raft but a wooden one covered by steel, and it could carry two cars at a time. The canoe was too old and without being maintained, looked like a small ship of South Vietnam Marine. Fifteen trucks crossed the river around noon, ran about an hour through a chain of Limestone Mountain to the camp A of Nam Ha re-education camp.
The Nam Ha camp was better constructed than the Tan Lap camp with brick houses surrounding by high walls. I didn’t have time to know about that camp because we only stayed in a separated zone. The concrete platform in the cell was cleaner than the wooden platform in the Tan Lap camp at least.
Around midnight of the second day, we were moved to Phu Ly train station. That place-name I used to know in some books of the Tu Luc literary group. Yet, the “Phu Ly station” was only a house having two walls by both sides and wide open by the others sides. It had been built during the French Colonial Period without any improvement! The only light bulb hanging underneath the roof without ceiling produced yellow light for a room about six by ten meters.
More than six hundred campers were jammed in that room; we only crouched in our place. My knees and my thighs were numb after a while, but I was unable to stretch my legs. I told Tam, my “cuff mate”, to stand up and reverse the position to sit in opposite side. I felt a little better after that, but cadres didn’t allow us to move any longer. They wanted us to sit still in the dark for ease of control.
The train arrived at the station when the sun rose over the horizon, about seven or eight in the morning. Cadres named us again. We stepped onto the train. We filled three wagons. The benches were made for three passengers. Two couples of camper would be able to sit on the bench, but the third couple could not sit in both sides of the walkway with the cuff without a chain. We switched positions alternately, two couples on the benches and one on the floor.
With the cuff on my hand, I still felt better than in the hold of the “Perfume River Boat” five years ago. It was a passenger train, so we had restrooms and food service. We didn’t have to step on nasty floor like on the boat, and most of all, we were going to South Vietnam, our homeland! Some unfound-optimists said that it had been anguish to go north and was glorious to come back south! I didn’t know for sure if it should be glorious, but at least I knew where my destination was.
The railroad was going along with the National Highway, the only road from North to South Vietnam. I saw craters in the field, the sign of the war still left everywhere in North-Vietnam. The National Highway was narrow and full of potholes. The old train with coal-locomotive blew smoke all over! The train didn’t stop but moved slowly at some stations. I could see activities of the people. Hawkers mostly children with baskets full of merchandise ran along with the train and shouted their wares. At some first stations, the cadres didn’t allow us to open the windows, but they ignored later. Some campers bought food from those kids. When they realized we were unusual passengers, they didn’t want to take money, but we didn’t take advantage of them.
The passenger trains –called market trains- filled of people sitting, standing, and even hanging at the doors; what chaos I hadn’t ever seen! I suddenly shivered thinking of the trip when my wife came to see me in 1979. How could she stand a long and chaotic trip like that? On the train from South to North, besides the turmoil, there would be thieves, robbers, burglars, and even killers. Women with heavy stuff were obviously their targets. I thought those trains were worse than our train except passengers didn’t have cuffs on their hands!
At a station, I didn’t know the name, the train stopped for a while. Some children-hawkers jumped onto the train selling their stuffs. I bought a couple of banana baked in stick-rice shell with the money I had hidden in my kit bag and ate with relish as if I had a delicious meal.
I sat tiredly on the floor and took a little nap. A night waiting in the “Phu Ly” station made me exhausted. I had my seat when it was nearly dark. The train crossed the “Ben Hai” River on the bridge parallel with the well-known bridge named “Hien Luong” – the name means “virtue and honesty” – at the seventeenth parallel which used to be the frontier separating North and South Vietnam.
How many battles had happened on that bridge of virtue and honesty and in the so-called demilitarized zone? What an abuse of words! The River was small, so was the bridge! Yet, they came into Vietnamese History as a place name that could not forget! Two times Vietnam had been divided into two countries, and the names of Gianh River and Ben Hai River engraved into the minds of the people as the stains that would not be able to erase!
Vietnam was unified! The problem was that the Communists took advantage of the patriotism of the people in the war to found an inhumanity doctrine in the country. They not only steal the credit of the people in the war but also the property of the people after the war was over. With the slogan such as “all for the construction of the socialism” they took everything from the people! The people were poorer and the Communists were richer. The “Ben Hai” River was entered into the History, but the Communism still existed. The people had overcome the gruel war but had to live in the poverty under the reign of the Communists. Only the Communists were patriots. “To love the country meant to love socialism” what a bizarre definition!
It was totally dark when the train came into the city of Hue, the old capital of Vietnamese Emperor. In Mau Than New Year 1968, the VC had temporarily taken over that city and did a mass killing. I tried to watch the activity of Hue, but it was so dark. The train stopped at a station, and I fell in a deep sleep at my seat.
Tam, my cuff mate, was moving and woke me up when the train was running somewhere in Central Vietnam. I was amazed when seeing the posts running in front of me. Last night, I remembered sitting opposite side of the moving direction of the train, that meant the posts had to be running from behind me. What had happened in the night? Did the train change its route back to North Vietnam or it was moving to somewhere in Central Vietnam? We found out later that at the station in Hue, they changed a diesel locomotive instead of coal, so they changed the opposite side of the train also.
At some small stations in Central Vietnam, people began to realize who we were and waved at us. To the Quy Nhon Station around noon, hundreds of people stood along side the railroad, threw food into the train, shouted, and waved at us as if we were their relatives. After the Quy Nhon Station, cadres didn’t allow us to open the windows any longer. Yet, over the window, I still saw people gathering in the stations and greeting us.
To Nha Trang, the seaside city of Central Vietnam, the train moved slowly because it was rush hour. Thousands of people already stood along side the railroad. Rumor ran faster than the train! Some campers tried to open the windows and cadres ignored it. We opened all the windows. People shouted, waved handkerchiefs, threw food into the train, and some ran along with the train. The station of Nha Trang was full of people. The train had to slow down. The people greeted us like a “victory troop”. Houses along side of the railroad lighted up, and the people stood in front waiting for the train. Whether they were really joyful or just curious, they grew in my mind a great affection that I would never forget!
The train got out of the city when it was totally dark. We closed the windows and tried to sleep. I laid down on the floor hearing the sound of the steel wheels rolling on the railroad and fell into deep sleep until it was dawn. The train ran slower and then stopped at the station named “Muong Man”.
Muong Man was a small train station in the province of Phan Thiet, South-East of Central Vietnam. From there to the Thu Duc camp was a long trip if we were really transferred to that camp.
The station was unusually quiet. We sat on the coaches waiting until noon, and then the coaches drove North on the National Highway, turned right at the well-known spot in the war named “Rung La” (Forest of Palm Leaves) in the secret zone of the VC named “May Tao”.
The camp had the code name Z30D and its real name was “Thu Duc”, not the camp in the “Thu Duc” Township close to Saigon, but the “Thu Duc” camp in Ham Tan, the Province of Thuan Hai. It was around 3P.M. of April 18th 1982.
Chapt. 40 - The Re-education camp Z30D, Ham Tan, Thuan Hai
The Thu Duc camp where we were coming in was the “next generation” of the camp in the Thu Duc Township close to Saigon. It was named upon the old camp, but people often called it Z30D by its code name.
From the National Highway I to the camp we had to go about two miles on the lane through forest of palm trees and Barian kingwood (Baria dalbergia) – a kind of rare wood. When I came, the camp had three sub-camps named K1, K2, and K3. K1 was the main camp and the headquarters. K2 stayed about three kilometers north from K1 and K3 about four kilometers south.
The camp Z30D changed day after day, but at first there were four zones in K1 named A, B, C and D. Four brick houses in the zone A stood parallel of each other and surrounded by walls. Zone B consisted of four thatch houses with bamboo fence surrounding. Zone C was a thatch house close to the kitchen. Zone D was a brick house standing alone at the back side of the camp. We were sent to the zone A and B. In the zone A, we filled out three houses 2, 3, and 4. House 1 for the campers who were confined; it separated to the others by the wall. Each cell held about fifty campers. Cell was a room about six by twelve meters with a restroom at one end having a cistern. The construction looked alike with that in the Tan Lap camp except the stages were concrete and tile instead of wood and the houses were roofed by corrugated concrete sheets. But the thatch houses in the zone B were more “temporary” with palm leaves and bamboo. From the zone A to the zone B we had to cross the gate that was locked all day unless cadres or the rivals opened for the campers coming to the kitchen.
The kitchen located at the right end of the camp, outside of the fence and close to the lot-house of carpentry work. There were three different gates for three zones except the zone D. The fence around the camp was made of barbed wire and thick bamboo hedge. The deep ditch full of water along with the fence separated the fence with the camp. In the zone A, we could see each other in three houses except the house 1. The campers living in the zone D were the rivals and the “special-section” – the campers who were trusted by the warden and worked in the headquarters.
Across from the camp was the headquarters that had three parts from left to right, the zone for cadres, the office, and the warehouse. Most of the houses in the headquarters were brick houses except the zone for families of cadres. A clay route from the National Highway to the camp ended at the stream and separated the camp with the headquarters.
The trees hyacinth (a kind of tree having white flowers, narrow channeled leaves and spikes of fragrant) grew everywhere in the camp and alongside of the lanes. We collected the flowers to add to our meal as vegetable.
The forests surrounded the camp. Some small plots of land were the cornfields. Palm trees grew everywhere; therefore the people named that region the “palm leaves forest”. The people used palm leaves for roofing houses and small buds for knitting sedge fans and conical hats, the ribs of old palm leaves for making chopstick and fishing rod. In spring, palm trees blossomed, had fruits, and then died. The fruits of palm tree were poisonous; it could kill fishes, and the people crushed them and poured into the stream to catch fishes.
Trees in that forest used to grow for a long time by South Vietnam Government. Bassia, Barian Kingwood (Baria Dalgergia), Ebony and Rosewood were some kinds of rare wood. In the War, that region used to be the “white zone” – the freely bombardment zone. No people lived in that region except the VC in the war zone named May Tao, the name after the mountain that separated that region to the ocean. A small ARVN post across from the camp protected the National Highway.
The stream, the main source of water came from the mountain, circled to the National Highway at K3 and back to K1 and K2. They built a small bridge at the end of the lane. The bridge looked like a “monkey bridge”. The stream was deep in sunny season, but flew violently in rainy season. Its surface almost reached the bridge. The pump station at the bank of the stream sent water to the camp. The land in the other side of the stream was totally deserted. Thorn bamboo, palm trees, and many kinds of tree grew densely. The only small track went alongside with the stream from K1 to K3.
The difference between the forests in North Vietnam and in South Vietnam was that in South Vietnam, there were lots of animal in the forests such as snakes, rabbits, birds, monkeys, boars, and even elephants. The stream had fishes and snails. Besides, bamboo shoots, wild banana, and mushroom would be our source of nutrition. Five years in the Tan Lap camp taught me the way to look for anything eatable!
The campers in the camp Z30D were not as skinny as the campers in the Tan Lap camp even the campers in two “confinement teams”. When coming back from work, they usually had something that they collected in the field. It was a good sign! Most of them dressed in sandbag-clothes. That meant they already exchanged their uniforms!
The campers in Z30D were mostly personnel of the old regime, some in the so-called “reactive organizations” founded after 1975 to go against the VC, and boat people who had failed to escape from the country. There was no criminal inmate until 1985 when the women inmates were transferred into the camp. In 1988, the inmates were filled the camp after the major release of the campers.
Those who had stayed in the Thu Duc camp when I left for North Vietnam such as Cang, Trang, Luong, and so on, were still in Z30D, but Nhan, my former agent was moved to another camp after the revolt of the campers in Vietnamese New Year, 1981. Nhan died right after released in 1988 although he was about mid-thirty.
The Rivals headed by Tri, a former major of the RVN Police. They searched carefully our stuffs. Some of my friends told me to pay more attention of Cung, one of the Rivals who used to be a major in Parachutists and the husband of a striptease in Saigon 1970’s. Cung was removed from the Rivals later and worked in the kitchen. Campers called him the nick name “Cu Dau” (pachyrrhizus, spoonerism for “fuck the dog”).
The formation of the camp Z30D was identified with that in the Tan Lap camp. It was the common pattern of structure in the re-education camps of the Communists. In the camp, there were the Rivals and the Self Management Committee of campers and in the headquarters the Wardens and the Committee of Cadres. Nothing was different except the way they managed the camp.
The wardens in the camp Z30D was also the wardens in the Thu Duc camp five years ago with Mach as the chief, Phuc the deputy, and Ninh in charge of K1. The cadre named Nhu was going to be a special personality later; he was only a lieutenant in charge of ordnance at that time, yet he became more powerful. He changed everything from the prison to the headquarters. He took power in 1985, climbed from the chief of K1 to the chief of the camp, and then combined two camps Z30D and Z30C. He forced the campers to work harder to deforest and to collect rare wood, to bring stone from the mountain and put on the stream bed, to construct the dam for hydroelectric, and to build houses for him and for the entertainment center. He became an evil not only for the campers but also for the cadres.
Chapt. 41 - The Early Days in Z30D
The excitement of coming to South Vietnam was over. I began to live a normal life! They didn’t re-organize us, and we worked everyday as usual. Our job was digging up grass and growing corn. Roots of Alang grass (imperata cylindrical) interlaced together under the ground and hard to remove. “A hose for every camper” was the way of labor in Z30D.
Cornfields intermingled with forest. We removed small trees and grew corns around big trees. We had to dig up palm trees as well. The diameter of an old palm trees was about a meter; we dug a hole about three meters diameter around the root to remove them. Two palm-trees a day for every camper was obviously not easy!
The “lot-house” of our team hid in the forest, so the educator cadre was a king in his region. Anyone wanted to go to the lot-house had to walk on a small trail full of thorn mimosa, snakes, centipedes, and scorpions. The wardens didn’t come, and the educator cadre could use any camper to do their private jobs. With the skills of painting and carpentry, I usually worked in the lot-house. The others jealously named those who worked the jobs for cadres as “the officers of the lot-house”. I knew that it was a bad thought, but I got no choice. We had to do what cadres told us to do if we wanted to live. Besides, painting flowers in the notebooks or making a wooden suitcase were not a “dirty” or a “mean” job. Those were just a little easier!
On Sunday two weeks after writing a letter for my family, they called me to see my family. I was amazed because it was Sunday! Tuan, my youngest brother came from Phan Thiet. He has graduated from the College of Economy and working at Phan Thiet Township of the Thuan Hai Province where the camp located. He should be working for the VC, so I was allowed to see him because that was not a visiting day.
I was going to work as usual on next Monday. My team didn’t go to the lot-house but worked in the field behind the house of visit.
The house of visit stood by the right hand side of the clay road, about half mile from the camp. It was a brick house about six by twenty yards in a ground fenced by barbed wire. The front gate went straight to the room of visit. In the right hand side was a room for cadre in charge of the house of visit and in the left hand side a waiting room. Each room had a front and back door and some windows.
Visitors had to resister to the cadre and then stayed in the waiting room. The campers stayed in the camp waited for their turn. When going to see their families, campers drew the improved carts to the house of visit and brought back their supplies. In the visiting room, they sat on one side of the large table in the middle of the room and visitors on the other side. The cadre sat at one end of the table. If visitors wanted to give money or letters to the campers, they had to give them to the cadre. He read the letters before gave them to the campers. Money had to be registered; the campers only kept a coupon valid in the canteen only.
I was working in the cornfield behind the house of visit when I saw my wife and my mother in the waiting room. I waved them, and they saw me! I didn’t know why they didn’t let me stay in the camp. My wife told my son came to see me, but he only stood at a distance. I was totally strange for him! I took my son to the educator cadre and asked him about my case. He needed me to do some private things for him; therefore he came to ask the cadre in charge of the house of visit and then told me that I had seen my family yesterday and could not see them again. I explained to him that my brother only come to see if I was in the camp and let my mother and my wife know, so they would come to see me. The educator cadre came to the house of visit again, and later he let me know that they allowed me to see my family right away. It was lucky for me to do the work behind the house of visit.
My wife looked healthier than she had been three years ago at the Tan Lap camp! My son began to know me, his real father, not just over the pictures. After a while, he came to me and said “daddy”! He was almost seven years old and at first grade in elementary school.
My mother was older and skinnier. My great loss was the death of my grand mother. I had sensed that long time ago, but my family had covered that for three years. I asked about my grand mom many times, but my family always avoided. I knew they didn’t want to worry me because my grand mom was so close to me.
The visiting time was twenty minutes, but they allowed me to wait for the last group. I got almost an hour with my family. They said that they were poorer. My brothers had to do everything even to repair bicycles on the sidewalk. My mother’s tailor shop was unable to find customers because people were so poor and they no longer changed fashion. My sister could not live as the teacher of high school, so she sold medicines in the black market instead. My wife had nothing to do except to help my mother in the house and in the tailor shop. Everyone in the family had to help each other to live in the difficulty of the country.
Since the Vietnam War was over, other countries cut their aids. With the harsh policies of the Communists applied to the agriculture tax, farmers left their land. The attempt to found the new-economy zones was fail; the people came back to cities. Although Vietnam was an agricultural country, the land was deserted. Because of lack of materials and electricity, no industrial plant could operate. The land reform and co-operatives policies made the people didn’t want to work because they didn’t work for themselves (everything was for the common good!) The economy of Vietnam fell in crisis. After the VC changed the currencies, the people had to bring a bag of new currencies to buy something. One-kilogram rice was about a hundred (South Vietnam) dongs in 1975 and about five hundred (new-currency) dongs in 1982, which meant the currency was decreased 2,500 times after seven years. What horrible!
Thinking of what my mother and my wife had said to me, I knew that I was the heavy burden for them. They had to help me by their difficulty. They collected every penny; how could they share it with me? When they gave me something they had to tighten their belts. What a misery! I wanted to write a letter to my family but didn’t know how to send it. In the camp Z30D, I could live with as less as possible their supplies because I could collect foods. Snakes, lizards, mice, frogs, and wild vegetables were everywhere. I needed some spices and fish sauce only. I wrote the letter and hid it in the handle of the bag for the next visit.
From that time on, I began the plan for a long-term life in the camp. I collected everything eatable. I didn’t know how long I was going to live in Z30D, but I didn’t think they would release me soon. Most of all, I didn’t want to rely so much on my family because I didn’t want to be the heavy burden for them.
Two more transfers from the Tan Lap camp to Z30D happened about two months after, but they sent the campers to K2. In September 1982, they released most of the old campers in Z30D and part of the campers from the Tan Lap camp. They re-organized the campers by the campers together, transferring the campers from K1 to K2 and vice versa.
I was in the team 6, the agriculture team. Because the fields around the camp Z30D was not rice paddy and didn’t have leech I could stay in the agriculture team. Besides, I could collect more foods in the field than in the lot-house, which helped me to save for my family.
Chapt. 42 - My student named Tam
In early 1993, I was re-organized to the team 2, they called that the “sugar cane” team. We grew and cared for the field of sugar canes in K3.
K3 about three miles south from K1 was only the cow house. Some campers stayed with two cadres in a thatch house. Everyday, they drove about fifty cows to the pasture close to the foot of the mountain May Tao and rounded them back in late afternoon. K3 used to be a part of the prison, but it was deserted from 1980.
The first day going to K3, I met Tam, my student who used to be in the 12th grade of the High School named Hoang Gia Hue where I had taught from 1970 to 1975. Hoang Gia Hue was a Catholic high school in a parish of the people who migrated from North Vietnam in 1954. The principle of that school was also the head father named Dieng of the Catholic Church in that parish. In the revolt of Catholic in 1976, the VC caught some teachers and people in the parish. Some others dispersed. Tam told me that father Dieng hid in the secret zone to go against the VC. Tam also got caught in that revolt.
Tam looked younger than his age of twenty five because he was small. His skin burned brown because he usually worked under the sun without a hat. Actually, I didn’t recognize him until he talked to me. Yet from that time on, he was very helpful for me because he was young and agile. We became close friends, and I told him called me “brother” instead of “teacher!” Everyday he collected eatable things in the field and cooked for us. Snakes, mice, frogs, and even rabbits could not escape from his hands. He was as nimble as a deer! I showed him to make some traps, and we caught a lot of small animals.
It took almost two hours to walk to K3 on the track full of thorn mimosa and sharp rocks, and some small streams. In heavy rain, it was even more difficult because we had to go into the forest to keep away from the violent stream. We didn’t go back to the camp in lunchtime. They only allowed one camper who worked as “male cook” to go with the guarding cadre to take lunches for us.
Our everyday job was to make beds for sugar cane. A bed was about two feet high, four feet wide and as long as the field could be. We had to stretch a string of young palm-leaves parallel in the same distance to guide the beds. If the bed encountered a tree, we had to remove that tree. The field didn’t cultivate for a long time, so it was left fallow. Alang grass, wild bushes, and especially palm trees were very hard to remove. Making the beds for sugar cane was really the hard labor because we only had hoses, but we got the feeling of freedom. And most of all we could collect some extra foods.
After the beds had been done, we put the cuttings of sugar cane on them. In three months of hard labor, forty campers in my team had done about ten acres. We began to expand more land and waited for the first harvest to have cuttings because they didn’t want to spend much money to buy them. In the mean time, we hoed the grass.
The first harvest was about a year later when the sugar cane began to blossom. We cut the canes to their roots, used their tops to plant the new field, and their trunks were sold for sugar-refineries. We also burned the leaves for the next generation, and that was the best harvest!
The twenty acres was the original field of sugar canes that we had done in the camp Z30D. Some years later, they founded the sugar-refinery in the camp and bought sugar cane from people around the camp to add to those grew in the camp.
In the early 1984, Tam and I were transferred to the carpentry team. He worked in the carpentry group and me in the construction group. We saw each other once in a while until he was released in late 1984.
Chapt. 43 - “She” said “goodbye!”
Once in about two or three months after the first visit, my wife usually came alone or with my boy to see me. We had time together. The cadre in charge of the house of visit no longer sat at the table and allowed us to have more than twenty minutes. Since then, I felt closer to my wife. Yet, I also felt something that separated us. She was still “fragile”, still my beloved, but I thought she changed. She got more will, and she was not as “fragile” as I imagined. The hardship in her life made her grew stronger. She no longer needed me. In the contrary, it was me who needed her!
I didn’t know whether the love or just an ancient ethic tied us together. I felt pity for her to waste her life because of me. Sometimes, I told her that I loved her so much but didn’t want her to rely on me because I didn’t know when I would be released. I just wanted her to raise our son to become a good person.
Late 1983, they allowed new campers from the Tan Lap camp to visit their wives overnight. That had only applied for the special campers such as team leaders, the rivals, and special-sections. My wife told me to ask the cadre for us to stay overnight at least once so we could say things that had happened for a long time. I felt a little worried about her idea.
Tu, the educator cadre in charge of my team told me that he would help me only if I was a team leader or a deputy because that was the rule of the warden. He created a new position for me in the team called “the deputy in charge of living” for the campers, and that was the first time I saw my wife overnight in October 1983.
The house for campers and families to stay overnight was a thatch house inside the fence of the visiting zone including four rooms for guest and a room in the middle for cadres. Visiting room was about ten by ten feet, with earthen floor and thatch wall. There was a small bed with a sedge mat and a table without a chair inside. A light bulb hanging under the roof produced the yellow dim light.
In that night, my wife said about her life after she left the Chu Van An High School. In addition, she asked me to say to my family letting her and my son move in her parents’ home. I knew about the contradiction between her and my family, but I thought she could overcome that. She was always harmonious with others! Staying with her the night, I could not sleep listening to her. I thought of her conversation and sensed the trouble that I was going to have. That was not simple. I could not let go her desire, yet I knew that I would be able to lose her. Eight years waiting for me was too long; I could not be selfish! She had to have her own life. She could do that by herself, but she asked me in advance, that made me in the dilemma. I still loved her so much, but I didn’t want her to waste her life because of me. She could begin her life again at the age of thirty-two; if not, it would be too late! With that thinking, I wrote a letter for my family.
Two months later, she came to see me again. She thanked me about my decision. We stayed a night together, and that was the last time! She had moved in her parent’s home.
Three months after that, she came to see me. Yet that time, she didn’t want to stay and just told me about her prepare to go abroad with her “cousin”. According to her, he came to the USA in 1975, and now he wanted her to come with him. I didn’t known about her “cousin”, and I thought I didn’t need to know. The only thing I knew was that would be the last time she came to see me. She looked far away from me although she was sitting next to me. She was better dressed than before. And she positively went home even though the cadre let us to stay. She didn’t say “good-bye” yet, but from her behavior, that would be the “good-bye”. I had to accept whatever happening to me because “to lose the country to the Communists is to lose everything.”
In the last visit, she asked me to sign a paper for my son to go abroad with her. I waited for that paper, but didn’t have it. I knew I would lose my son if I signed the paper. I readied for those losses and just prayed for them to have the better lives. I wrote many letters for her and then tore them up! I didn’t want to be an impediment to her passage. She had to have her own life!
How long I would be in the camp? No one knew. She was absolutely right to write me a letter later that she had to carry out the reality for her, not wasted any more time to wait for something unreal! It was the “good-bye” that I received from her. To engrave that even into my memory, I decided to quit smoking. I gave up all of my cigarettes to my friends and told them that from that time on I never put a cigarette on my mouth. It was so hard for an addict to cigarettes like me, but I had to do. “She quitted me; I quitted smoking!” I thought that would be the end of my love story, but it always followed me most of the time in the camp. That was just a “good-bye”, not a “farewell” yet!
Chapt. 44 - The Carpentry Team
In the early of 1984, I was transferred to the carpentry team. Most campers in the carpentry team were usually volunteers but I wasn’t because doing the agriculture jobs in Z30D was not so hard and had my opportunity collecting extra foods. My history to do carpentry jobs in the last camp was the reason they transferred me.
The cell for the carpentry team located at the end of the camp, close to the kitchen, and that was also the cell for the campers in the kitchen team and the construction team. That thatch house only had one cell with bamboo-screen walls, bamboo-bar windows and earthen floor. The house was so dirty, but no one paid much attention because three teams had to work all day long, came back to the cell for sleeping only!
About one hundred fifty campers stayed in an eighteen-by-two-hundred-feet cell, the campers in the kitchen team at one end, the carpentry team in the middle, and the construction team at the other end. There were two toilets at both ends of the cell. Campers slept on the bamboo-knitted boards on the two two-storied-wooden stages. We didn’t have shelf, so we put our stuffs on our places. The cell still had extra room, and we weren’t too crammed!
The carpentry team was the biggest team in the camp. It divided into four groups: the carpentry group, the construction group, the forging group, and the sawing group.
About forty campers in the carpentry group and the construction group helped each other in two main jobs: making furniture, windows, and doors, and doing the construction jobs such as attaching doors, windows, rafters, and beams for brick houses, and making wooden and bamboo houses.
The sawing group was about fifteen campers who operated the chain-saw machine and the mill-saw, providing wood for carpentry and construction.
Ten campers in the forging group made knives for the timber-team and hoes for the agriculture teams.
The lot-house of the Carpentry team was close to the stream next to the kitchen. It consisted of four thatch-houses in the area about one acre fenced with barbed-wire: the house for carpentry and construction, the house for forging and sawing, the house for the campers who stayed overtime, and the house for cadres.
Only the house for cadre had walls and located at the gate of the lot house, next to the house for forging and sawing. The house for forging and sawing was paralleled with the clay route and across from the kitchen. The house for the campers who stayed overtime was perpendicular with the house for cadres and the house for carpentry and construction was at the end of the area and paralleled with the house of forging and sawing. The complex was in U shape with the open area in the middle for lumbers and timbers.
The construction job in the camp Z30D was easier than that in the Tan Lap camp because wood had been cut in shape by chain-saw and sawmill. The mortises were square that was simpler than dove tail.
At first, our job was to build the lot-houses and to fix the houses in the camp and in the headquarters. About two months after, the cadre named Nhu took over the team, and everything was changed. Campers had to work more than eight hours a day, and sometimes worked until dark. The campers of the carpentry team reached the sum of a hundred. Nhu burnt the lot house and built the new one, put platform in the resting house because we didn’t enter the camp at noon and sometimes had to work overnight. The house for the chain-saw was built in two stages: the upper floor for cadres who guarded the lot-house and the lower for the machine and for the campers who sharpened the saw-blades. The octagonal house close to the gate of the lot-house was built for Nhu when he came to check the jobs and for Gioi who helped Nhu in the construction jobs.
When the job was too busy, Nhu formed three groups including one group of cadres to split wood twenty-four hours a day. Campers had to stay at the lot-house and take turn to do the job. In the evening he let the campers in other teams hide sawdust inside the sugar-cane fields. The forestry brigade searched for the destruction of forest, but could not find any evidence. They sometimes caught the campers in the timber team but had to release the campers because they could not detain those who were in re-education camp. About six months, the forest around the camp was destroyed completely. Nhu let the campers grow eucalyptus and sugar-cane to replace the forest. Nhu was richer and more powerful.
At first, the carpentry team only helped the constructors to build houses in the zone B. When Nhu fired the constructors, we had to build the houses by ourselves. The houses were built and destroyed and rebuilt many times. Cadres said that Nhu wanted to collect the budget from the government because he only reported the sum of the constructions. Gioi, the camper who helped Nhu in the construction jobs was in charge of everything in the carpentry team although Tu was the team leader. I felt unsafe to do the construction job and asked Tu transfer me to the sawing group. I helped the others to push the chain-saw and sometimes to measure the timbers in the ground beside the lot-house. So many timbers were brought in, mostly rare wood such as barian kingwood (Baria dalbergia), rosewood, teakwood. I had to measure at daytime and calculated the volume at night.
Working in the carpentry team, I could not collect extra foods from the field. Yet, the lot-house of the team was close to the stream; I made some fishing rods and leave them in the stream to catch fish by chance. Sometimes, I was able to go fishing at noon or at the resting time.
In 1986, Nhu transferred me to the painting job, but I was still in the carpentry team.
Chapt. 45 - “Nhu” and the camp Z30D
Our lives in the camp Z30D depended so much on one person. His name was Nhu. He managed the camp in his own way, and he was an evil not only for the campers but also for cadres.
The early warden was Doan Mach, who used to be the chief of the Thu Duc camp in 1975. When I first came to the camp Z30D, Mach was still the chief of the warden, and Phuc the deputy. The head of the K1 was Ninh. Nhu was just a lieutenant cadre in charge of ordnance. The wardens just kept the campers in order. Campers worked eight hours a day and only did everyday jobs on the cornfields or in the lot-house. The area around the camp was still deserted; trees and bushes grew densely.
Nhu was at my age, but he looked old. He was short, skinny, and had obviously an appearance of poor peasant in North Vietnam although he tried to cover it up! He had dark skin, and his bucktooth covered with lots of gold. We over-teased that when he smiled, everything was brightened. The peculiarity was that he usually dressed ridiculously. The first time I saw him in the warehouse, he had the bright-green suit although it was very hot. He usually walked in the camp and in the working sites in colorful pajamas. When speaking to old campers, he tried to use friendly words but very rude in his manner.
In 1985, I heard that Nhu became the Secretary of the Communist Youth Organization, which was an important function in the headquarters. In the Communists country, there were always two formations in any organization, the Government and the Party (Communists Party). In the headquarters, two government organizations were the warden and the committee of cadres, and the two Party forms were the Communists Party Committee and the Communists Youth Organization.
For the need of the construction, Nhu took over the carpentry team. He was not an educator cadre, but as a cadre in charge of ordnance and the secretary of the Youth, he managed everything in the team. The educator cadre was just a dummy! Nhu replaced the educator cadre whenever he wanted. He reorganized the team, combined the construction group and the carpentry group, and took more campers in. The carpentry team became a hot spot with the total campers up to one hundred. He forced the campers in the team worked more than eight hours a day. Sometimes he took things in the warehouse to reward the campers. No one commented him because he was the ordnance cadre, and he also said that the warehouse-keeper is greater than the chief.
Nhu burned the lot-house of the team and built another one. He ordered to wall the house for the campers who stayed over because the campers had to work until dark and didn’t come back the camp at noon. The house for the saw machine had two stories; the upper for cadres and the lower for the machine. He built the house for the educator cadre next to the gate and another in octagonal shape for himself.
After the carpentry team was re-organized, Nhu took over the construction team. Nhu fired the constructors and let the team build the houses in zone B. Nhu didn’t care about the quality of construction, only cared about time. Sometimes he forced the campers to finish the job in one or two days regardless the camper had to work day or night. He stayed at the hot spot at every time. He rewarded those who worked hard and confined those who looked lazy. Those rewards were just a bit of meat, or sugar, or a prisoner pajama, but campers had to work hard because no one wanted to be imprisoned in the solitary cells.
That time, campers were full in the solitary confinement rooms. They had to remove the campers who stayed too long and cuffed them in the cells to give places for others. When campers were locked in the solitary confinement, they had to stay there until Nhu remembered and released them. Sometimes the cadre on duty had to remind Nhu of the campers who had been confined too long. Nhu punished and rewarded campers very unusually. He wanted to forewarn the others who had to work harder for him.
For the need of materials, Nhu took over the timber team. He burned the forest on the other side of the stream where the lot-house of the timber team was and built the new one in K3. He increased the number of campers and let some cadres to work with the campers and to watch them at the same time. They transported timbers to the lot-house of the carpentry team and hid in there. The forest around the camp was destroyed so fast, and the forestry brigade usually came to check the camp. The campers had to hide sawdust inside the sugar-cane fields and covered timbers with palm leaves and sugar-canes. Nhu arranged parties for the brigade, and corrupted them day after day.
Since Nhu had taken over the carpentry team, the camp Z30D changed as well. First, Nhu removed the temporary houses in the zones B and C. The zone D became zone B with four more brick houses. The kitchen moved close to the zone B and the infirmary close to the zone A. They built concrete walls around the camp and only one front gate at the end of the route in between of two zones A and B. Coming from the front gate, the kitchen stayed at the right hand side, the infirmary at the left, the hall in between of the zones A and B and the isolation confinement behind the hall. Two walls separated the zones A and B to the hall. The ground between the infirmary and the kitchen became the gathering yard. After that, they built the library in front of the infirmary, dug the pond, and made the rock garden. To come to the infirmary people had to walk on the bridge over the pond. The library was the two stories house: the lower for the library and the upper for the living room where Nhu met his guests. Two kiosks at the both side of the road coming to the hall sold stuffs for the campers. The area in front of the hall became the “recreation area”.
Not only in the camp but also in the headquarters was changing. They dug the pond in the yard of the headquarters and built bridges and floating houses, dug the upper stream to make the lake for hydroelectricity dam, and paved the downstream with rocks from the mountain. They made many rock gardens on both side of the stream, moved the visiting area to the other side of the stream, built many houses for visitors to stay overnight and the canteen to sell things for visitors. The campers had to do everything by their hard labor!
After the construction of the camp was nearly done, Nhu brought a part of campers to build houses and canteens beside the National Highway and to build the hydroelectric dam at the township of Tan Xuan, about fifty miles from the camp. In the mean time, he removed the timber team to the new zone. In about six months, the forest in the distance of ten miles around the camp was destroyed completely. They grew eucalyptus to replace rare wood.
The structure of the wardens was changed as well. After Doan Mach the chief of the camp had retired, the “central” sent Y to replace him. Nhu was in charge of K1 although just a lieutenant. He took over most of the authorities from the wardens. Y was a dummy and Phuc, the deputy a blurry shade. Ninh the chief of K1 was transferred somewhere else. Everything from K1 to K2 was in Nhu’s hands. When K1 and K2 merged together, he became the chief of the wardens though his range was just captain. In 1988, most of the campers were released, they combined two camp Z30D and Z30C, the camp Z30C about twenty miles from Z30D became K2 and Nhu was the chief of two camps. He climbed three ranges from lieutenant to major in just two years. He put his “disciples” in the role of the chiefs of K1 and K2.
Cadres were scared of Nhu also. Educator cadres and guarding cadres had to warn the campers when seeing Nhu because if anything to happen, he imprisoned the campers and transferred the cadres. Once I painted the wall picture in the headquarters; campers dug the pond nearby, and cadres removed the mango trees. A cadre was cutting the branches of a mango tree having a lot of red ants. He jumped away flicking off the ants on his neck. Nhu shouted loudly that “you’re going to be a Communist, why are you scared of the ants?” The cadre had to continue his job with one hand holding the knife and the other hand flicking the ants. What a scene I had never seen in my life! He treated his comrades like that, how would he treat us?
Nhu believed in superstition. He used Van as his private fortuneteller and geomancer. Tran Hong Van, the cripple guy who used to be a journalist in the Communist Regime, was sentenced for a reason that I didn’t know about. He was a gasbag! Van worked as a bookkeeper in the library and stayed in the room next to the library. He told Nhu that the stream was the dragon with the head near the rock behind the lot-house of the carpentry team. Nhu built the house in octagon on the stream, and built the rock garden look like a tomb on the bank. He believed that it was his tomb and once it was done, he would stand in the tomb as if he was buried there for better in his afterlife. I knew that, and although I didn’t believe in superstition, I wanted to wreck his belief by bury the fish. I prayed that it would be a shark in its afterlife instead of Nhu to be a “king!”
In the “Nhu era”, campers had to work so hard and were punished without reason. Some campers were injured, some died, and some others became crippling when developing the land full of mines to grow eucalyptus. Campers worked day and night without resting. The carpentry team had to work twenty-four hours a day with two groups in three shifts. The others had to do night jobs such as digging ponds, digging the lake for hydroelectric dam, helping the construction team, beside their main jobs. Sometimes Nhu rewarded those who worked night with China kung-fu movies. Campers had to stay late to watch movies and waked up early next morning to do everyday jobs.
Chapt. 46 - Women Prisoners
In the early 1985 when the camp was just completed it’s inside construction, we had to jam together and left two houses for the new comers; they were women prisoners.
About two hundred of them divided into three categories. Firstly, the political prisoners included those who used to be personnel of the RVN Government and the people who went against the Communists after April 30th, 1975. Secondly, the people had been captured attempting to flee the country and their helpers. Thirdly, the criminal inmates who had committed serious crimes such as murder, burglary, and so on, and were sentenced at least ten years in prison, and those who didn’t have precise conviction and were sentenced “resettlement in re-education camp”.
I was painting the picture on the background of the hall when they moved in. Cadres and the Rivals searched their stuffs before sent them to their cells. They looked nothing different than others, dirty and careless! The difference between them and men prisoners was that their stuffs were so bulky! I didn’t recognize any until I heard someone whispering my name and I was amazed to know that she was Major Thuy, a chief of the “Swan Detachment” of RVN Policewomen. She was perhaps the only woman camper who was still in re-education camp after nearly ten years.
In the cell the night before, my friends and I played the game to use the “Tale of Kieu” to tell fortune. In that game, we opened the book named “The Tale of Kieu”, a well known poem in Vietnamese Literature, picked a random verse in a random page and conjectured our fates base on the verse. In that game, I picked a verse: “Dank air hangs heavy here, day is falling; and there is still a long way home!” Its meaning was so bad, especially while I was in prison!
“Day is falling; and there is still a long way home!” I was still staying in prison although it was too late. “Dank air” meant the air coming from hell. It represented for lonely souls of victims of an injustice those still wandered in that area. When women came to the camp, I realized that “dank air” could be belonged to “yin” or female. Therefore, the line of the verse meant that “there would be a lot of women coming to the camp, and I am still stayed in prison although it was too late to go home!” Unfortunately, that was a bad guess!
I want to mention a bit about the bizarre sentence of the VC named “resettlement for re-education”. For those who seemed to be dangerous for “society” but didn’t commit any crime, the VC sent them to prison and gave them a sentence named “resettlement for re-education” and had to make progress in order to be released. That meant the VC could put any one in re-education camp without judgment and could keep them as long as they wanted. Lots of people were caught to re-education camp with many strange names of crime such as “suspicious of escape from the country”, “suspecting to overthrow the government”, or women who were prostitutes had been captured in the raids to “clean up the cities”.
A symbolic example of that kind of “resettlement for re-education” was Thoang, a sixteen-year-old girl who had been caught to have evidences in the house where she lived with her sister. She had to stay in re-education camp for ten years from 1976 to 1986 without a sentence. Her brother-in-law who had been a train robbery was sentenced ten years in prison and was released after seven years. Her sister, the owner of the house having material evidences was released after three years in prison. What bizarreness!
The two houses 1 and 2 in the zone B had been fenced separately for the women prisoners. They worked in the field at first to care for sugar cane and hot pepper. Two months later, Nhu formed two teams of women to work in the sewing factory. They made prisoner uniforms for campers in the whole country.
Nhu fenced a part of the headquarters to become the sewing factory. Campers had to dig ponds, built float houses, rock garden, and bridges in this factory.
To build the hydroelectric dam was the most important labor of the campers at that time.
The stream running by the camp was small. It was about twenty yards wide and flowed violently in rainy season. Yet, in sunny season, it looked like a ditch. Water level at some spots was just about some inches. We could walk easily over. Campers had only two or three places to take bath, but water was muddy because every team had to come there after work days.
When we heard about the decision of building the hydroelectric dam, we were so worried. We didn’t have any thing but spades, hoes, crowbars, and our labors. In addition, there was no one who knew about hydroelectric dam.
The very first thing we had to do was to expand the creek to become a lake! We had to dig the bed of the stream from the bridge upward to be deeper and wider. Two campers a dustpan, we carried dirt and stone and set them on the future bank of the lake, about a hundred yards from the bank of the stream. Those who were stronger and younger had to dig soil by spades, hoes and crowbars. We worked continuously days and nights, and even in Sundays and Holidays.
That time, campers worked so hard and so tired that we slept easily whenever we could. Some body had described that in a song imitating from another song named “Spring in the Ho Chi Minh City”, which we usually heard on the radio. The song was renamed “Spring in Z30D”
“A mother comes to see her son in this spring,
“So she knows the way to go to the camp Z30D.
“Where her son has to work on the lake
“Days and nights made him to be so anguished!
“She arrives at five in early morning.
“Her son looks pale and skinny.
“What do you want? She asks.
“I bring you some brown sugar in that “guigoz” can,
“A can of fried shrimp and a bag of dried rice.
“Two sticky-rice cakes that I just bought for you
“To ease your hunger.
“And this is twenty five hundred piasters, which I saved.
“You sneak into the camp, and take care of yourselves.
“When I can not come to see you,
“You have at least some money to buy things that you need.
“Living long time in forced labor camps,
“I just hope you to overcome hardness...
“Spring in the camp Ham Tan, at the “Palm-Leaves” forest
“Is the worst spring in the world?”
It took plenty of time and effort to dig the lake, so Nhu formed a team of young and strong campers to do permanently that job. Others had to do everyday jobs as usual and to work on the hydroelectric dam at nights and weekends.
When having women campers, Nhu created the mixing team to dig the lake. He called that the “hot shot team”. That was the first mixing team in the camp, and from that time on the relationship between men and women campers became a complicated matter.
Every night in the hydroelectric dam site, Nhu and some cadres were sitting in a hut on a high spot to drink tea, listened to music and watched the campers doing their jobs. Campers were working on the ground; Nhu was watching from above. It looked like a movie to perform a scene of the Roman Empire with a king who watched his slaves to build his temple. From that time, “yellow music” was heard every where in the camp because Nhu only listened to “yellow music” and “oversea music”.
The “entertaining team” was changed as well. There were no longer men in the roles of women in a play as it used to be. Some women campers with special talent had joint the team that made the entertaining team to become better. Suong, who could sing folk songs and perform rather well in her roles; she also looked pretty under the limelight although she was actually not as beauty as she seemed to be. Some others could sing folk-songs as well as modern songs such as Ngoc, Thuong, Chuyen. Therefore, the entertaining team could perform successfully some difficult plays like “The Queen Mother Duong Van Nga”, “Cinderella”, and so on.
Besides the job in my studio, Nhu asked me to do numerous things in the “entertaining team”. I was costume designer, fashion designer and stage designer at the same time. I had to make implements for the stage, clothes for actors and actresses, and to do the make-ups for them also. Those were so difficult especially in the camp because materials were too rare. I had to use prisoner’s pajamas, curtains, and even old blanket and asked the campers in the sewing factory to do clothes due to my imagination because I didn’t have any book or document to study first. After that, I used color powder to draw on the clothes and collected aluminum paper in wasted packs of cigarette for decoration. Swords and spears were made from bamboo and cardboard. To apply make-up for actors and actresses, I had to use their own cosmetics and even use color powders for whom that didn’t have cosmetics. That could harm their skin, but I had no choice. They accept that any way because they wanted to stay in the “entertaining team” rather than to go to work. In late of the year 1987, Nhu let me go with a group of selected campers to the Ben Thanh market to buy cosmetics, yet only for those who have money because Nhu didn’t give me money.
The entertaining team only performed two or three times a years, especially in the Tet and in the Independence Day of the VC. Other time, they helped the others in the field.
A complicated matter that happened when women came to the camp was the relationship between men and women campers. Plenty of things were derived from that relationship.
First of all, the regulation of the camp restricted any relation between campers despite they were same sex or different sex. Nhu confined severely those who had man-woman relations. Yet, he encouraged them to work together! He said that that would help camper to work more effectively. Every night on the hydroelectric-dam site, he told a man and a woman to bring a dustpan together, but when he was dislike, he sent them into the solitary confinement right away!
Besides, each camper had different point of view about that matter. Some was indifferent, others had bad judgment.
The relationship between men and women was happening secretly at first. They hid their letters folded in small pieces called “candy” for their contacts. Sometimes they just glanced or waved each other from distance called “shot”. Therefore, it was too hard to know that relation was a true love or just a sham to fulfill their lacks of love and their needs.
Most women campers, especially criminal inmates, used to be abandoned by their families. Men usually had supplies from relatives, but they were single or divorced. These two kinds of people were easy to meet each other in a narrow place like re-education camp. To exchange something for a glance or a smile despite a true love or not was just a human character. Some people had condemned but could not prevent it to happen!
Nhu took the advantage of that and used it as bait when he wanted or confined the campers when he no longer needed. At the same time, he chose five girls for himself. Campers called these “the five dragon princesses”. They stayed in their forbidden house where no one, even cadres, dared to come except Nhu. They were Loan, Mai, Chau, Anh and Phi. Four worked as seamstresses to fix uniforms for cadres and Phi worked in the canteen. Tu replaced Phi later when Phi was released. Nhu watched out of Loan the most, so the campers knew that she was Nhu’s lady! To contact with one of “the five dragon princesses” meant to have a bad luck. Loc, a camper in the entertaining team was confined many times because of his relation with Loan. Nam, a camper working in the sugar refinery, committed suicide by antiseptic because of his desperate love with Tu.
That time, I did painting jobs around the camp, in the headquarters, at the new construction sites. I often got “candies” in my paint box. They wrote plenty of things, but I just felt sorry for them when I thought of my situation. I thought that even they wanted to take advantage for their needs that was certainty. Everybody in that circumstance had to look for his or her way to live one way or another!
A girl whom I felt pity the most was Phi, one of “the five dragon princesses”. I knew that she liked me but she had to hide her emotion because she scared of Nhu. Whenever she went by my studio, she put a can of soymilk for me. When she was released, she wrote me some letters, but I didn’t reply because I didn’t want to give her hope. I knew that I still loved my wife though she had said “good bye!”
The relationship between men and women campers was gradually more obvious, especially when there was the so-called “recreation area” in the camp and campers were allowed to see each other in that area every night.
From 1989, women campers began to took part in the so-called “wide area section” (went around the camp without watching of cadres). Some of them got pregnancies and delivered babies in the camp.
Beside the relationship between men and women, numerous of women campers had homosexuality as well. They were jealous one another, scrambled for their “lovers”, even beat each other. Xa, a drummer in the band of “the entertaining team” was a best “lover” for many women campers though she had slovenly appearance!
Chapt. 47 - My Studio
It was so strange to have my own studio in re-education camp. Yet as the matter of fact, it happened to me in the camp Z30D. In 1985, when Nhu, the new chief of the camp re-modeled the hall, he asked the Rivals to have an artist to paint a picture on the background of the hall. He wanted it to be painted permanently on the wall, not on a drapery, so everyone could see it right away when he or she went into the hall.
The rivals told me to stay in the camp to see Nhu when I was ready to go to work. I was stunned and a little afraid because every camper knew that to see Nhu meant to have trouble. Working in the carpentry team, I tried to avoid him by asking Tu, the team leader, transfer me to the wood splitting group instead of the construction group. At that time, the camp began to re-model. Nhu spent most of his time with the construction group, and he sent a lot of campers into the solitary cells because they seemed to be lazy.
I waited for him in the hall until noon. The construction group was working there too. Nhu showed me the metal sheet panel at the end of the hall and asked me:
- “Can you draw a big picture over there?”
- “I think I can, but I don’t know what you want me to do.” I replied him with my relief.
- “Just a landscape!” He said, and then he softly sang a lyric in an old song: “The winding lane goes around the old pine trees!” “I wanted everyone who looks at your painting and feels that the hall was coming far away.” He added.
- “I will try with my best, and I just need some paints and brushes.”
I went along with him to get the materials at the warehouse in the headquarters and began the painting.
That was the first landscaping I had done in the camp.
To do the painting job in re-education camp was dangerous because every cadre had different way to criticize, and most of those critics were inappropriate for those who did the painting. Many campers had to be locked in solitary cell for that. Yet in that situation, I had to do what Nhu told me to do if I didn’t want to be confined. For my protection, I did the sketch and had Nhu approve it first.
I painted the Xuan Huong Lake (at Da Lat, the highland in Central Vietnam) as the background and some pine trees as the foreground; the lane wound from distance and came to the stage at the end of the hall. Coming from the door, people seemed to be in the forest of pines going to the lake far away. I finished that painting in four weeks. Nhu was very pleased with that and gave me some money as the “reward”. The first time in the camp I received money from a cadre. I didn’t care about money but I knew that I could avoid hard labor by doing painting job. I told myself I would do landscaping only because it was neutral at least, and no one could have inappropriate critic on landscaping except it was pretty or not.
After that, Nhu had the construction team build three brick panels in the open air around the gathering area. I painted three pictures presenting three parts of Vietnam: North, Central, and South. I painted the Single-Column Pagoda in Hanoi on the panel at the zone B, the Thien Mu (Heaven Mistress) Bell Tower at the infirmary, and the Ben Thanh Market at the zone A. Each one was about eight by ten feet and took me about a month to complete. I had to renew those pictures many times because they were located in open air but I used indoor paints very easy to fade out in the sun and in the rain.
I was transferred to the painting job but still in the carpentry team. Everyday, I went with the team to the lot house and brought paints and brushes to do the paintings, mostly on the wall. I was on the order of Nhu only. For easier to do my job, I told Nhu that some cadres criticized my paintings in different ways and made me didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what he had done, but from that time no body said anything about my paintings. I knew Nhu needed me, but I still kept me at a limit for him not to have any reason to confine me.
Whenever I painted the picture, especially out door, I usually delayed the job. In the camp, we had to work even if it was light rain. Once, Nhu told me to paint in the rain, I diluted the paint in kerosene and painted it on the wall. The raindrop smeared the paint all over the wall. I had to scrap the wall and redo the painting later. Since that time, I had the reason take the rest when it was rain.
Early 1986, while I was painting in the canteen, Nhu told me to have another artist work with me. I introduced Diep, who just transferred from the camp Z30C. Diep used to be my friend in the Central Intelligence Organization, who had his own showroom in Saigon the years 1970’s. Yet, he didn’t used to do landscaping. When he was transferred to the camp Z30D, some of my friends came to ask me to help him to do the painting job with me for him could not be up to the rivals. They told me that Diep had caused damage to many campers in the camp in North Vietnam when he was in the rivals. I didn’t know for sure about that, but I rather did something. Besides, I needed someone to help me because I had plenty of works.
With two people, Nhu gave us a room, which used to be the house for the educator cadre in charge of the carpentry team, for our studio. My studio was a thatch house about eighteen by twenty feet having concrete floor and wooden board wall. It stood alongside with the road in front of the lot house of the carpentry team. Its front door opened to the road and the side door to the plain area between the lot house and the canteen, next to the hydroelectric dam. In the studio, there were two self-made easels, a bed, and a table with two chairs for Nhu when he came to see our works. I made a small locker about six by three feet in the corner of the room to store paints and to hide my personal things. We began to do the paintings, mostly landscaping on canvas. I had to make frames by myself. Tissue for canvases was the coarse fabric for prisoner pajamas; therefore, they were not last long especially big canvases, but who cared.
That time, Linh, my wife’s brother-in-law was transferred to the camp. He worked as a “male cook” for his team. Everyday, he went to the stream close to my studio to carry water for his team and brought foods for us. Diep and I gave him things we had such as fishes that I caught from the stream or something they rewarded for our team.
At noon breaks, I usually went fishing while Diep stayed in the studio. He was the guardian of the studio! His family came to see him regularly, so he didn’t need to look for food. Those were my easy days in the re-education camp. Besides not to work hard, I had time and opportunity to go fishing, and could raise some ducks, some chickens and even a cat. Once in a while, my son came with my mother to visit me; he could sneak to the studio to see me before I came to the house of visit.
Nhu didn’t allow any cadre to come to the studio but him, so I had to pay attention of him only. Since he said that my paintings were his ideas, I didn’t hear an inappropriate word of criticism any longer! Some cadres secretly came to the studio just for their private things such as to ask me to make notebooks, to paint some flowers in their notebook, or to prepare the decoration for their weddings. Diep usually did those things. I spent most of my spare time at the stream to catch fishes, any size! I made hooks by myself and became a kind of expert in this field. My skin was darker, but I felt healthier. Since the stream became the dam, fishes were rarer. Sometimes, I had to go downstream to search for fishes, but I still had enough. That could save a lot for my family because I needed only some spices, fish sauce, and some necessary things.
Every three or four months, my mother came to visit me, sometimes with my son in his vacations or in the Tet. I didn’t know much about my wife since she left me. My son didn’t say about her. Besides, I didn’t want to know about her new life. I had come to see my wife’s sister once when she came to see her husband, Linh, but she didn’t want to see me; she told Linh that I would better not to see her again. I avoided her since then. I knew they didn’t want me to disturb my wife. I didn’t know if she had filed a divorce yet because I didn’t ask her, and she didn’t mention about that also. I thought that I still loved her, but I felt better when she left me for her new life. Most of all, I felt a little relief not to be an impediment on her path any longer! In my paintings, sometimes I added an image of a girl who was going far away: a slight melancholy but a peaceful emptiness. People asked me about this emptiness in my paintings; I usually said that they represented for the sadness of my mind in my situation.
Diep and I had done at least five hundred paintings in many sizes, a huge amount! We usually didn’t know what to do when started a new painting. Sometimes, we had to move a tree, to change the point of view, to change the course of the stream, or to alter the color from the old painting to create a new one. Gradually, we became familiar with the creation of landscaping! We could develop five to ten paintings from a picture. Our paintings were hung everywhere: in the camp, in the headquarters, in the houses of visit, in the canteens and so on. Once in a while, Nhu gave them to his guests as the gift. The problem was that those paintings had been made from house paints on the bad coarse fabric, so they could not last long without being cracked, faded, and sometimes being torn!
Diep was released in January 1988. The studio still existed until Lap, an inmate with life sentence worked with me in early 1990. The studio was moved into the camp, in the room at the end of the first house in the zone A, close to the office of the rivals. They suspected Lap would escape if he stayed out of the camp. I didn’t like to stay in the camp because I could not go fishing, but I had no choice. Lap didn’t know how to do the painting, so he usually did the decorative jobs for the rivals. Sometimes, I didn’t have anything to do because everything was depending on the carpentry team. I had to wait for frames, for paints, and for the order of Nhu because he didn’t come to the studio as frequently as before. Some days, I did nothing. I showed Lap to do the jobs and lay on the hammock in the studio, went around chatting with others, or helped the entertaining team to prepare the performance. What the boring days!
In September 1990, Nhu transferred me to the timber team after confined me in the solitary cell for a night. He claimed that I hadn’t obeyed his order when he had me fix the painting, but I knew that he didn’t need any more painting. The studio was closed. The room became the “cultural office” for the rivals, and Lap still worked there. That was the way of Nhu to treat the campers when he didn’t need them any longer: “to squeeze a lemon juice and to throw away its skin.” I knew that, but I didn’t care because my way to live in re-education camp was to avoid hard labor as much as possible. I had had at least five years not to do hard labor.
Chapt. 48 - The Release in 1988
Nothing was sadder than to see my friends being released while I still had to stay in the camp. I said congratulation to them, but deep down in my heart, I felt desperate and sorry for me!
Nearly thirteen years in many re-education camps, I had to witness numerous of those occasions happening. Whenever hearing they read a release list, I just wanted to have my name, and then I had been desperately going to work while the others went back into the cells to pack up for leaving the camp! Thirteen years from south to north and then from north to south, I could not remember how many times like that had happened? I was sleepless at first, feeling hopeless, worried for my destiny, but everything was over at last. I had to live my life in the camp, to struggle for my survival one way or another.
People said that those who stayed long time in prison to have a habit and to become impudent. Yet, I thought that was not habit, not impudence as well. It was acceptance, endurance! We had to accept things that happened out of our will despite how bad they were.
Coming back south, I often saw my family. They talked about my friends who had been released. Some of my friends concluded that they got out of a small prison to a larger one, the Society of the Communists. People said that they had to live more difficult in the society than they used to live in the camp! Yet, I thought that was just their words. No body wanted to come back into re-education camp even if he lived a hardest life in the society. A bit of freedom was still better than nothing!
From 1985, when Nhu began to take power, the camp Z30D has changed day after day. Besides campers had to work harder, some things had been forbidden before were allowed in the Nhu era. “Yellow music” for example had been banned for a long time; singing yellow music used to be a serious violate and could lead to be confined severely. When we wanted to hear Nghiem Phu Phat to sing a few “over-sea” songs such as “The gifts for my native country” of Viet Dung or “Farewell Saigon” of Nam Loc, we had to have the campers guard around the cell and had to choose listeners as well. Whoever got caught or was reported to sing “yellow music” usually spent a long time in solitary confinement.
To the contrary, Nhu played cassettes of “yellow music” all night in the working site and said that he wanted to give campers more energy, so they could work more effective. China kung-fu movies became the rewards for the campers who worked night. The “entertaining team” could perform “yellow music” and “revolutionary music” in their shows.
Our relatives also told us that the same thing was happening in the society. No body wanted to listen to the so-called “revolutionary music” and watched movies having propaganda meaning any longer. People returned to “yellow music” and “kung-fu movies”. Even those who worked for the VC and the Communists themselves could not be otherwise.
Besides, the economy of Vietnam fell in deep crisis. The “closed door policy” of the VC had failed. They loosened the goods exchange for the people but could not rescue the failure of the economy. The war between Vietnam and China in some northern provinces of Vietnam had happened; China was no longer a supporter for Vietnam. Soviet Union and the countries in Eastern Europe were applying economic reform trying to rescue the economy crisis of their countries. Therefore, they could not help Vietnam as they used to do in the war.
In the country, the so-called “co-operative policies”, especially the “agriculture co-operative”, were totally failed. Farmers left their land. The “new economy zones” were unable to develop; people came back to the cities. The economy of Vietnam depended on agriculture, but land was deserted, cities had no job. What terrible!
In the mean time, the trade embargo of the US applied on Vietnam was worsening the economic situation of the country. The only source of revenue of the country was goods and currencies from the people around the world who sent to their relatives. The economy of Vietnam became parasitism. In the country, beside two existing classes, the ruling class and the ruled class there produced a new one, which was the class of people having supplies from their relatives living abroad!
Our families also told us that the negotiations between the Americans and the VC on the matter of P.O.W. and M.I.A were happening. The carrot of the Uncle Sam at that time was to lift the trade embargo on Vietnam. In those negotiations, they were also speaking of the RVN personnel who were still in re-education camps. Once again, we had a little hope from our ally who had been abandoned us for a long time in Communists’ hands.
In fact, we didn’t have any thing to rely on. We didn’t have any organization, any government to help us. It was better to have something than nothing. I always thought of Muong, a prisoner from 1955 in North Vietnam, who said that “to imprison in the Communists’ Regime without sentence meant never be released except there would be a miracle!” We were hopefully waiting for that miracle. We knew that the Americans always thought of their interest first, but at least we had an expectation even if it was just very frail hope.
Working with Diep in the studio, I usually felt so lost and so lonely when his family came to see him and then stayed with him over night! I tried to calm myself and thought that who lost the country lost the family. Yet deep down in my heart, I was still feeling sorrow. I wanted to blame for my fate, but could not understand why in the same circumstance, everybody had different situations. While I told myself that I have not been a heavy load of my wife any longer, I was still desperate! Two opposite sides always haunted my mind.
I was not jealous. I just felt sad and knew that I had to accept my situation one way or another.
In the early of 1988, rumors about a huge release was spread all over in the camp. Z30D was an only camp in South Vietnam to keep prisoners of the RVN regime after the camp Z30C has become a prison for criminal inmates a year ago. More than one thousand campers in two K’s of the camp Z30D, if the VC had to release a lot of campers like that, it ought to be an alternative of their policy.
Close to the Tet (Lunar New Year) 1988, cadres from the Ministry of Internal Affair of the VC came to the camp and met some campers. We knew that would be the last chance they persuaded those who were going to be release to work for them.
Diep and I were working late on the evening of January 18th when Nhu was in the studio watching our paintings. He asked me unexpectedly.
“What have you done in the South Vietnam government? I have suggested releasing you many times, but ‘they’ didn’t let you go home!”
I was amazed to reply
“I thought you knew everything about me because you keep my file. Perhaps you haven’t tried hard enough.”
He said nothing more, and didn’t mention about Diep who was waiting near by.
That was the first time I knew my fate. I was shocked and so sad could not sleep all night. Sitting in my mosquitoes net, I played my guitar continuously all of the classical music that I have learned in the camp such as some Vietnamese music arranged for guitar, the Tristesse of Chopin, the Serenade of Schubert, the melody in C major of Paganini, and so on. I didn’t know whether the sound of my guitar was so sad or everyone in the room was waiting for the next morning; I heard sighs now and then.
The gathering area looked differently in the morning. Cadres stood around the yard. The women teams got out first, and then some other cadres came in with the suitcases in their hands. They began to name those who were released.
I nervously waited for my name although I have known about my situation. I still hoped that Nhu would be wrong!
The list was too long. Most of campers were named. I tried to listen but could not hear any of my friends. I didn’t know when Diep was called though he sat beside me, and he didn’t say anything either. I seemed to be in a nightmare until everyone stood up coming back to the cells. I desperately knew that most of my friends were released!
I was sitting still at my place in the cell when the others shouted joyfully around me. They gave their stuffs for those who leftover, or to the inmates, or to the rivals sending for the women prisoners whom they knew. I didn’t realize anything even when Diep and my friends came to say good bye and to give me their stuffs.
Campers got out of the camp at last. About twenty of us were remaining! We looked surprisingly at each other. What was happening? Why they could release most of the campers and kept only some ones like that? What were they going to do to us?
The cadre in duty gathered us in the first cell of the zone A. They cleaned the other cells for new comers. Later, the warden Nhu sent us to the lot houses outside of the camp. Hung, Diem, and I came to the lot house of the carpentry team, Cang and Nghi to the kitchen, and the others to the K2 tending cows. The K2 was deserted and become a cow house.
That first night staying outside of the camp, I slept alone in my studio. Croak of frogs and sound of insects made me awake all night thinking of my family. Diep has come home, and my family has already known about me! What they were thinking? Why I could not make any progress after nearly thirteen years in re-education camps.
Two weeks after that, the VC transferred the campers from the Nam Ha camp to the Z30D. The total campers remained in re-education camp after the release in 1988 were two hundred and ten included some former generals such as Dao, Truong, Tat, Sang, Than, Giai, some colonels such as Han, Xao, Cua, Pho, Tan and so on. The others were those who used to be officers of South Vietnam in Security Armed Forces, Special Police Forces and the Central Intelligence Organization.
The radio of the VC said that we have had debt of blood to the people and could not be re-educated; therefore, they would not release us.
Chapt. 49 - The Timber Team
After the release in 1988, I stayed alone in my studio. I only worked during working time of the carpentry team. In my spare time, I was usually fishing along the bank of the stream or sometimes going to see my friends who just transferred from the Nam Ha camp.
When Nhu had “kung-fu” movies to show for the campers who worked over time, I could watch them until midnight and woke up late next morning because I knew that Nhu didn’t wake up early either. When my mother and my son came to see me, I could see my son in my studio before came to the visiting room. I could even raise some ducks and chickens in the yard next to my studio. I needed to be careful about the warden Nhu only.
In early 1990, they sent Lap, an inmate, to work with me in the studio. I heard that Lap used to be a police officer of the VC. His job was to form phony escapes and to catch escapees. Then he wanted to escape himself and killed his comrades. He had been caught and was sentenced to life in prison. He was injured by mine when working in the field; after hospitalized, he was sent to my studio because he knew about decoration.
About a week after Lap coming, the studio was moved into the camp. Cadres said that they didn’t want to give Lap a chance to escape because his sentence was still long.
The new studio was in a room at the end of the first cell in the zone A, next to the office of the rivals. In the camp, I could not make frames, and sometimes I didn’t have anything to do the art work. I only helped the entertaining team, and Lap worked for the rivals. Besides, Nhu didn’t need more painting. We had already made lots of them, so they removed the paintings from old houses to new ones.
Since the camp Z30C became the K2 of Z30D, Nhu brought the campers from Z30D to develop Z30C. They deforested, built new houses. Sometimes, they asked me come there to do the decoration. When Lap was trustworthy, they let Lap replace me doing that job. I just stayed in the camp and did nothing.
I was still in the carpentry team and had to live with the inmates in their cell. Many times, I asked Tu, the cadre in charge of K1, to transfer me to the team 20 with my friends, but he was unable to decide. One evening, they told me to go to a meeting of the campers in the hall. I had to stand out of the line. The guarding cadre beat me by my chest because I didn’t check in although I have told him that was the order of the warden. In that meeting, Nhu said sorry for the act of his comrade and sent the cadre to K2. Some days later, they transferred me to the team 20.
When working in the canteen at the National Highway, Nhu told me to mend a torn picture. I tried to do that but could not because it has been destroyed severely. I said that it was rather to let me do a new one than to mend it. Nhu shouted out loudly and told the cadre standing nearby to take me to confinement!
I thought that he wanted to revenge for his apology in the meeting. Moreover, he didn’t need me any longer. Yet I didn’t think much about the reason because Nhu would confine any camper whom he didn’t like without any reason, without any paper as well. On the way to the camp, I just worried about how long I was going to stay in confinement because it would be up to Nhu only.
Before sent me to the confinement cell, the cadre in duty let me have a shirt although the policy of the camp didn’t allow camper to have it. They said that was to prevent us to kill ourselves using fabric from our shirt. Without a shirt in confinement was terrible because of mosquitoes were so dense.
Fifteen years in re-education camps, I had tried to avoid confinement cell. I knew that would let down my health easily. Yet I could not get away that time for a nonsense reason!
The confinement block standing behind the hall was well constructed. It looked like a military post about six by ten meters. The area separated to the hall by a high concrete wall and to the zones A and B by fences. Two small doors at its both ends were locked all day except when cadres or the rivals brought meals or when they let campers clean up. Beyond the doors was a walkway about three feet wide. Both sides of that walkway were two rows of confinement cells.
A confinement cell was a room about seven by three feet without window. A small hole on a steel door at every cell has been designed for giving meals into the cell. A small light bulb usually without power hung under the ceiling! Therefore, the cell was always dark.
From the door, on the left side of the cell was a concrete stage about seven by one and half feet and one foot high. On the right hand side, they put a small plastic bucket used as a toilet. Prisoner had to lie down on the stage with his legs toward the door because his legs were locked to a long steel rod going room through room. If prisoner was locked by one leg, he could choose his right or left one. The leg had to put onto the steel rod and locked by a U-shaped cuff to that rod. He could only sit or lie down, not stand up. If he wanted to take a leak, he had to crouch at the edge of the stage.
The cell was moldy and stinky. Prisoner ate and leaked at a same place. Besides, he had only a piece of newspaper and one quarter gallon of water everyday. Because of the darkness, there was no fly but lots of mosquitoes. I have taken two quinines, but still worried about malaria. I could not sleep a second trying to fan away mosquitoes, but they still bit me through my shirt!
In the confinement cell, I didn’t feel any sorrow but a little worry. How long would I be in that cell? Whom who had been confined by Nhu had to stay at least two to three months in the cell. And when getting out, he or she would be in worst shape, looked like a walking skeleton plus some illness. Mosquitoes, bed bugs, staying awake, a small bow of manioc with some salt, dirty condition of the cell, and so on; all of these could kill easily anyone although he used to be strong enough!
I had corrupted cadres and the rivals sometimes trying to send something for my friends in confinement. Now it was my turn; I didn’t know if anybody did that for me. I also thought of my family. If they came to visit me, I could not see them while I was in confinement. I thought of everything had happened in my life while my hand moved around to fan away mosquitoes. Then I had to tear my sleeve to use it as a fan, yet next morning I saw lots of red spots all around my body.
The cadre in duty opened the cell door in early morning. In fact, I could not know it was day or night until seeing the light. He told me that the warden let me get out of the confinement and go to work in the timber team right away! I was amazed, but said nothing. I came to my room to get my stuffs and to go to work. The timber team had gone already. The cadre in charge of that team waited for me at the gate. He showed me to the lot house in the old K3. At that time, the timber team consisted of criminal inmates. I was an only camper and was also the oldest member of that team.
They gave me a knife, and I used palm leaves to tie it by my waist walking along with others to the forest. From North to South Vietnam, I used to come to forest, but never cut down any tree. In the Tan Lap camp, I had only cut trees at the edge of forest for the construction, and at the Z30D, I used to go to the forest just for measuring timber that they already cut down. This time, I had to cut them by myself. I didn’t know what I was going to do.
I left the lot house at about nine o’clock. The forest around the camp Z30D was destroyed to the mountain, so we had to go to the K2, the old Z30C, about ten miles from K1. To the corn field, some picked a few corns or came to see their traps. The timber team was a “wide-area” team; the campers could go to work without cadre. Most of inmates in the team were nearly finish their time; they didn’t want to escape.
The first time going with them, I didn’t know the way, so I was going along with the “male cook”. We came to the working area at about noon. I help the cook to boil and share rice for others. They came one by one and began to work after having lunch. That day, they cut down some trees that they have chosen.
First, some of them climbed up the trees and cut vines which tied those trees together. I thought that was the most difficult job. After that, they sawed to open a V shape by one side of the trees’ root, and then they cut the other side to let down the trees. When the trees were down, those who were old and feeble cut branches and cleared a road for trucks coming to transport timbers. I was in a group doing that. It was said an easy job, but I was sweat all over, and my hands were numb. That night, I slept like a baby. A sleepless night and a day of hard labor made me so fatigue! I was lucky because they let me stay in the cell for the team 20 instead of the timber team.
After a few days, I began to make traps. The members of the timber team were surprised seeing me catching more animals than they did. I have learnt about the habits of animals and used that knowledge to trap them. I gave everything that I caught for the male cook and shared with every one in the team. Therefore, they liked me, and they covered my work for me to help the male cook to do the “improvement” for the team. Besides animals, I collected fishes, crabs and snails in streams, bamboo shoots, and mushrooms. I became a helper for the male cook!
After finished their jobs for the camp, some campers especially the young ones could even make money by cutting palm leaves and timbers for people. They had to share money with cadres. That was the way of living of cadres and prisoners in the timber team.
Besides timbers, the team had to collect palm leaves shoots for the cone-hat team, pick bamboo-shoots and fire-wood for the kitchen, and bamboos for construction.
To cut palm leaves shoots, we used long handle scythes. That was an easy job for those who could not cut down trees. Yet to cut bamboos was an interesting job for me. Bamboo in jungle was a kind of thorn bamboo; they knitted together. We could not pull them out of their bush. First of all, we had to clear a way to climb onto the top of bamboo shrub. Then we cut branches of them from top to bottom. At last, we could pull them out easily. Doing like that, we usually cut down almost the whole shrub of bamboo. There was no more bamboo around the camp. We had to go far away from the camp on a truck; after that it transported bamboos back.
Two months in the timber team, I went around a lot. I knew almost everywhere around the camp and enjoyed my free time the most!
Chapt. 50 - The Camp Z30D Continued to Change
After the release of January, 1988, the sub-camp K2 was deserted and became a cow house. They moved the cows from K3 to K2.
Criminal inmates replaced campers and became a main source of labor. In the meantime, Nhu rejected Y and became chief of the warden. All of his opponents had been excluded one by one and replaced by his fellows. Nhu put his associates in key positions. A female cadre named Phuc was his deputy. Tu replaced Binh as the cadre in charge of K1 although Tu was just a lieutenant. The real power was in Nhu’s hand. He did whatever he wanted to do. Two of his main targets were still construction and lumber.
The hydraulic dam had been done and produced electricity for the camp in rainy season and a little in sunny season, but the bed of the dam was gradually higher. Prisoners had to dig it all year round.
Criminal inmates were young and strong, and just got into prison for a short time. They worked harder and more effective than the campers.
The area across from the bank of the stream had been cleared. They built a clay road going along with the stream from K1 to K3. The field around was grown hot pepper for export and cane sugar for the refinery factory in the camp.
The visiting area was rebuilt with more houses for those who stayed overnight. At first, they only allowed special prisoners such as team leaders, the rivals, wide-area campers, and so on, to stay overnight with their families. Later, they allowed lots of prisoners to stay overnight provided that they had to pay for their rooms and especially to give gifts for cadres and for Nhu as well! Prisoners not only stayed over for one night but also for a week or ten days, and relatives were not only wives but also parents, children, or even friends. Day after day, the visiting area became the party area for cadres.
Buses transported guests used to stop at the National Highway, could come to the canteen, next to the dam. The canteen had lots of thing such as ice, soda, banana, chicken, meat, vegetables, sugar, candy, and so on. It not only sold for prisoners but for guests as well. They built a deck behind the canteen over the stream for guests and prisoners to sit, to drink and to eat after seeing each other in the visiting room.
The area between the canteen and the lot house of the carpentry team became a park with rock gardens, bridges, stoned chairs, and statues. Lanes and stream bed were covered by stones. Prisoners had to collect stones from the mountain, transported to the camp and put onto the bed of stream. In flood season, water washed away stones, and prisoners were going to do that again and again!
The number of campers seeing families overnight was increased day after day. They built more cottages along the bank of the stream; each one was a room for campers who stayed overnight. The cottages located next to the lot house of the team 23, the team of “old uncles” as Nhu said. The campers in that team usually stayed in those houses when seeing families. Therefore, they kept that area very clean and neat. Nhu liked to show off that area whenever he had visitors.
The forest around the camp was totally destroyed. They grew eucalyptus and Virginia tobacco. Nhu formed a group of inmates making fake cigarettes using many brand names such as Hero, Jet, 555, Dunhill, Craven A. Those inmates were sentenced because of their counterfeit cigarettes, and then they did what they used to do in the society. Nhu send those fake cigarettes to sell in the society again. What bizarre!
A few ponds had been dug around the camp and in the camp to raise catfish and Tilapia fish. Prisoners who didn’t want hard work and had money could contribute baby-fishes and raised them for the camp.
Nhu built the hotel and night club at National Highway and let Dung and his family managed it. Dung, a young inmate who got life sentenced for his crime to kill some police officers in Saigon. His family was powerful in the VC government; therefore he could avoid death sentence. That hotel and night club was also a place for Nhu and his guests having fun. Besides, a coffee-music saloon at the township of Long Khanh using women prisoners as waitress was another place for Nhu to have fun and to collect money. I had to come to those places for decoration; therefore, I knew most of them.
The octagon house on the stream, next to the lot house of the carpentry team, where used to be Nhu’s home became a worship temple for a woman whom we called “goddess”. She has been imprisoned for her cult, and now she was a photographer to take photos for visitors and to collect money for Nhu.
The change took place in the camp as well! When prisoners consisted of campers and inmates, Nhu replaced the rivals by a group of prisoners from Tien Lanh camp. Lan, Nuoi, Pho, and so on, was the campers who had been sent to a trial in the camp Tien Lanh because of listening to a radio. The person who made the radio had gotten death sentence. Lan was sentenced to life in prison; Nuoi, Pho, and so on from twenty to ten years. Nhu put them to the rivals committee when they came to Z30D. I thought that was a wise decision of Nhu because they were an intermediate between campers and inmates. After the release in 1988, inmates became majority, Nhu replaced Nuoi and Pho by Hanh, an inmate, but still kept Lan as head of the rivals.
For women prisoners, Nhu used Tam. Tam’s father had been killed in the black April, 1975. She married to a VC and then persuaded her husband to go against the VC. Her husband got a death penalty, Tam twenty years in prison. When Tam was released, Chau took place as a rival. Nhu often fed the rivals, and they worked successfully and not being hated by prisoners.
The strangest change in the camp was perhaps the so-called “recreation center”.
In the early time, after campers finished their overtime jobs on the hydraulic dam site, they stopped by the canteen next to the dam to relax and to have a drink, usually a cup of soymilk. Sometimes, they could watch Kung-fu movie in the headquarters. In 1988, Nhu built a “recreation center” in the camp, in front of the hall. Two kiosks at the front end sold cakes, candies, lemonades, soda, cigarettes, etc... Prisoners coming to the center could see each other even between male and female. After that, they watched movie or music video in the hall. Sometimes, they could sing along with the band of the entertaining group and could even dance freely.
Three groups of prisoners could come to the recreation center. First were those who bought ticket; second, those who work overtime and third the campers in first house of the zone A, the officers of old regime. Although they allowed us to go to the recreation center without ticket, we rarely came there unless when they had music video, usually from abroad such as “Paris by Night”.
To get the policy of self-improvement, the camp gradually became a business center by any means.
Chapt. 51 - We Became a Kind of Hostage
We were totally shock to be left over when most of the campers had been released in the early of 1988. What would the VC intended to do to us? Why they release thousands and kept just twenty?
Instead of keeping us inside the camp to avoid escape, they let us stay outside without guarding. What strangeness! We thought that they were going to release us after Tet, because we didn’t have anything different than the others. We had to ready for our saddest New Year and hoped that we would leave the camp after that.
Hung and Diem worked in the carpentry team; I stayed by myself in my work shop. Doing my daily job as usual, but I could not concentrate in my paintings. I did them like a robot, filling color on the canvases without thinking of them; just waiting for break time to go fishing at the stream. No body watched the studio; I had to close the door in my break time. Besides, Nhu didn’t come to the studio as usual as before. He knew that I was in bad mood, I thought!
Inmates were transferred to the carpentry team. Thuc, who had been caught to left the country, helped me cooking and we had lunches and dinners together. Another inmate named Nam, who was sentenced for his crime of fleeing the country working in the sugar refinery, usually came to my studio and sneaked brown sugar for me; therefore, I never shorted of sugar! Nam committed suicide later because of his hopeless love to a woman inmate named Tu, who worked in the canteen.
Our friends who just came home let us know that they were no longer in probation as those who had been released before. They also said that their lives in the society were so difficult. Except those who had relations living abroad and helping them, the others could not find a job and could not work any hard jobs like pedaling a pedicab, or carrying heavy bundles. That happened not only for those who just got out of the camp but also for the people in the country.
The VC used to say that the difficulty of the country was just temporary. It was thirteen years since the war was over, the country was poorer! I didn’t know how long the so-called “temporary” would last?
Two weeks after the release, the VC transferred the left-over in the Nam Ha Camp to the Z30D. They released some old and sick campers after. The rest of us, about two hundred and ten campers, had to continue a new period in the re-education camp.
The radio of Ha Noi said that they had released most of the campers in re-education camps and kept only a few whom they could not let go because of the debt of blood to the people and didn’t want to be re-educated.
We could not come home unless there would be a miracle! How would they treat us? Would they send us to a public trial? Or would they send us to an island like Phu Quoc or Con Non? Or send us and our families to a sovkhov (state own farm) as they used to do in North Vietnam after 1955? Why didn’t they send us to North Vietnam for easier to manage?
In the meantime, the negotiations between the American headed by the General Vessy and the VC on the issue of POW and MIA were heard in the radio. They also talked about our fates. The POW, MIA, and we were becoming merchandise, a kind of hostage for the VC! They wanted to trade us to the lifting of sanction from the US.
Our lives in the camp were totally changes. For a reason, we didn’t have to work too hard. They formed the campers into two teams, the team 20 and the team 23. At that time, prisoners in the camp had to work very hard days and nights to dig the ponds, to dig the lake, to construct new site in the Z30C. Yet campers of two teams 20 and 23 worked only around their lot houses and didn’t have to work over time. The rooms for two teams 20 and 23 were opened until ten p.m. and campers could go to the recreation center without buying tickets. They didn’t lock the rooms for campers’ former generals and colonels. Besides, we could watch TV in a television room at the corner of our zone. When there was a soccer game, we could watch until it lasted provided that we gave a pack of 555 cigarettes to the cadre on duty “to smoke away” mosquitoes!
They didn’t hide news about the collapse of the Communism any longer. We could bring in some magazines such as Times, Newsweek, or Le Monde. We could watch the TV about the destruction of the Wall of Berlin. I thought the VC seemed to ignore about politic issue and cared only about their interests. They loved imported cigarettes and instant noodles more than the existence of the USSR!
In 1990, the program named HO for those who had been released from re-education camps to go to the US was beginning. Some of our friends had already gone; the others were waiting for air planes. We were worry of our fates hearing that. We thought that the real “miracle” was coming, but when would be our turn?
A few optimistic said that we would not be released for the program HO, and we were going to the US from the camp! Every night, some groups of campers sitting together talked about information they have heard from their families. Everyone tried to have a “vitamin” (good news) when seeing family. Some even said that we were going to get repays when coming to the US. What a funny optimism! I thought that although everybody wanted to exaggerate, those were actually the vitamins that help us to overcome our sadness and our depression.
Since the campers from the Nam Ha Camp coming, their families visited them a lot. At first, they stayed one night, then a week or ten days, especially when cadres allowed us to stay for a long time and pay for rooms. The campers who had their relatives living abroad lived very comfortable; they didn’t need their daily ration.
In the end of 1990, some people introduced the women to the campers who were single or divorced with the purpose of going to the US! The campers were in need of sex and materials, and the women wanted to escape from the country. They saw each other in a temporary engagement!
What were our futures at that time? Was that a ticket to the bright horizon of the US? What funny! We only wanted a miracle to rescue us from the camp. Long time in that hell of the world, we just wanted to come back home to live the rest of our lives.
In Vietnamese history, there never a moment the people wanted to flee the country like that. Why people loved to leave the country having lots of heroes? What strangeness! People said that “if a light pole could walk, it would leave the country anyway!” It was just humor, but not far from reality. Could I repeat the idea that the VC used to say when then first came to South Vietnam: “Between Communism and Capitalism, who are going to win?”
I was not an exception! I could not overcome my desire and saw a woman at last. Although my situation was different than others’, it had the same demand of sex and materials.
“She” was a daughter of a camper who just came from the Nam Ha camp. She knew me when I worked in the studio outside of the camp. “She” and her son used to visit her father, and her son usually came to my studio and gave me something. I thought that was just normal behavior of the visitors to the campers. Many others gave me gifts as well. I just thanked for their kindness.
Her father was released in November, 1989, and my studio was moved into the camp after that. I didn’t remember anything until my mother told me in early 1990 when she came to see me that there was a woman who wanted to take her place to visit me. I was surprised saying that I didn’t want it.
In August, 1990, “she” came surprisingly to see me once, twice, and many other times; until she could stay with me overnight. I didn’t know how to behave in my situation but to see her. Moreover, I had been “vegetarian” for a long time and could not go against my desire of sex! “She” was also a sex lover! Therefore, I just “went with the wind” until it was too late to recognize that I was playing with fire. I could no longer get out.
In November, 1990, the camp let us write down the names of relatives who were going to go with us to the US. Cadres said that was the suggestion of the American. I thought of my wife and sent my wife a letter asking her permission. I knew that I still loved my wife, and wanted her to come back. My wife wrote that I had to let her be free. She wanted me to have my son and my mother going with me.
I didn’t know why “she” knew about my letter, and we had a fight in the visiting room that time. “She” wanted to be my only! “She” also said that “if I wanted children, she would give me a lot, not my son!” I was stunned and told her not to come to see me any longer, but she still came. In the camp, I had no choice but to see her. That continued until I was released and until I got out of the country.
That was my situation. I didn’t know about the others’, but I thought that any love with intention could not last long!
Our other activity was to study English. Everyone was ready to go to the US, perhaps! Learning any foreign language used to be strictly prohibited in re-education camp. Whom who had any kind of paper in foreign language would be severely confined if the VC found out. The policy of the camp also stated that “campers could not speak any foreign language.” The VC said that was spreading the reactionary and bad civilization! That time, the VC not only ignored about their policy but also asked us to teach them English.
In the camp, we used books, magazines, or dictionary to learn English. We also had a teacher named Viet Huy, or Nguyen Dinh Huy, who used to be an English teacher in Saigon. Mr. Huy became our teacher. Lately, he continued to go against the VC after released and was caught into a camp again.
Early 1991, we received the first New Year gifts from our friends who were in the US. Things I didn’t see for a long time such as beer Budweiser, Marlboro cigarettes, and chocolate cadies. They gave us some US dollars as well, but we had to change to Vietnam currencies. Cadres came to our rooms every day to spend New Year with us; they talked about our futures in the US and hoped that we would think of them when we get there. That meant we would send them gifts like that. What the most materialism I ever seen!
Moreover, that was the beginning of the collapse of the USSR and other Communism countries in Eastern Europe. Cadres were worry about their Communists Party and about their lives. I remembered on August, 1991, when news about the Communists’ Troops surrounded the Kremlin, cadres were joyfully said that Gorbachev would fail and Russia was going to come back to Communism. Seeing our situation, they worried about their fates. They could not imagine how they would be if the VC failed at last. After Yeltsin won the Communists in Russia, the cadre on duty told me that the American was going to take us out of re-education camp; he didn’t know who would help him if he was in my situation!
When we first came into re-education camp, we always heard that “the American is a conqueror” and “Fake Government was American’s servants”. Now everything was turning one hundred eighty degree! I thought it ought to be a miracle. Without that miracle, we would die in the jungle of North Vietnam anyway.
I thought that the VC could not disturb the history. They could not avoid the natural law of human either. Human being is always human being, never been apes, and would never be robots as well!
Chapt. 52 - Back Home
After two months in the timber team, I was back to my friends in the team 20 at last. Nhu suggested that I made fifteen paintings for him before he sent me back to my friends. I thought that was not a suggestion but a command. He was a warden and I was a prisoner, so I had to do what he wanted.
Mr. Le Minh Dao, team leader of the team 23 let me know Nhu told him that he wanted to send me back to the team 20. I felt a little humor. Nhu was a king in the camp; he could do whatever he wanted. Why would he say that? Yet I thought he wanted me to beg him, perhaps! I told Mr. Dao asking him for me to come back. And after about two months for completing fifteen paintings, I was transferred to the team 20.
I didn’t know exactly what the team 23 was doing although I used to fish next to the lot house of that team. For the team 20, we had to care for a garden of cashew (Anacardium occidentale) four kilometers from the camp and close to the National Highway.
Everyday, we went to the lot house of the team before working. More than five years in the studio, I worked with Diep or Lap only. Now I felt better when going with my friends. Our jobs were not so hard, just work-out a little bit for not to be idle in the camp. We slept in the lot house at noon and continued to work until five in the afternoon. We took our bath by the well at the lot house or in the stream and came back to the camp.
The lot house was not too far from the National Highway; cadres allowed Hoa, Hieu, or someone else went to buy our needs. People stopped by selling meat of wild animals they trapped, banana, vegetable, and so on. Sometimes, cadres cooked dog meat and drank with the campers. Cadres in the team usually had special ration because campers in the team having visitors almost everyday. I thought it was just normal to give them a little bit of something to have easy life.
That was the time when they began to develop Z30C (or K2). Nhu brought the prisoners to work there, and he spent most of his time in K2 also. He never set his foot to the lot house of the team 20. Therefore we didn’t worry about him. I just wanted to keep away from him because I no longer wanted to do the painting job. I had just wanted to avoid hard labor.
Going to work everyday, working out a little bit at night or watching movie in the hall or chatting with women prisoners in the recreation center sometimes, time passed day after day. On January 16th, 1992, about ten days before Tet, I was released! They let go one half of us and kept the rest until after that Tet.
I used to think that I would be more joyful when hearing my name, but I didn’t! When they called me, I didn’t feel anything. I thought that was certain; they didn’t have anyone else to release except us!
Coming back to the cell, I gave Uy some of my necessary stuffs and gave the rest for Lap, an inmate working with me in the studio. I brought home my kit-bag and the mosquitoes net; those were things that went along with me since my first day. I didn’t forget a new prisoner’s uniform as a souvenir. I had to help Mr. Si because he was so ill, could not walk by himself.
They gave us some money for our trip home, but most of us sent money for Lan, who had life sentence in prison and worked as a rival in the camp Z30D.
I heard sound of motorcycle behind me while walking on the clay road. The cadre named Tu, in charge of K1, stopped and told me to let him drive me to the National Highway for the motor coach coming home.
Tu used to be the cadre in charge of the “cane sugar” team, the carpentry team, and had helped me to see my wife over night in 1983 to solve my family problem. He had usually sneaked into my studio and asked me to draw the pictures for his wife who taught first grade in an elementary school. Beside Nhu seemed to be an evil, Tu was very gentle. A wrong doctrine didn’t create only bad people, I thought.
On the car to Saigon, people asked me lots of things. They were surprised knowing that there still were campers in re-education camp after nearly seventeen years. The driver and the helper didn’t take my money saying that I just got out of the camp, how I could have money.
Sitting in the bus, I was thinking of my situation when I got home. And then I was thinking of a poem named “coming back home” of To Huu, a poet of North Vietnam.
Once I left my prisoner’s pajama.
No cuffs, no chain, no rod.
I left the prison behind me going home.
Here was the familiar lane since I was young.
Bamboos bent their top greeting me.
Smoke flying from the roof of the house.
Is that where I used to live?
My children were grown up, perhaps;
They are playing in the yard!
Posed and cried out seeing me to come.
And my wife cooked in the kitchen,
Threw away her chopsticks,
Ran for me, crying, loving!!
Her hair was still loosening.
Yet, my old house is there,
The red column, the bamboo hedge is still there.
But the panel with strange name,
I seemed to be lost,
Wanted to enter, but still hesitated.
The dog barked as if to see a stranger.
I looked at the new areca-palm tree garden,
And the windshield-panel stands still.
This is exactly where I used to live.
The old bamboos and the small temple were still there!
While I was trying to remember my past,
Someone asked me: who you are looking for?
“This is not your home!” She said,
And then shut the door!
Let me stand alone under the bamboo hedge,
In the mist and in the cold wind!
How many times I used to think of the happiness when I came back home? Yet now I was totally lost and lonely! There would be no scene of reunion, of my beloved wife greeting me with her hair still loosen!! That was the main reason that made me could not sense a thing when they called my name.
I will be back, my dear, I will be back!
Though it’s dark, and I didn’t have any loved one left.
Or you’re no longer my heaven!
I have to come back to die at my birthplace.
Yes, I had to come back at last although to see my broken heaven. I had to come back to die at my birthplace! The lyrics of that song were more suitable to me than ever.
The bus stopped at the crossroad named Hang Xanh. The highway Saigon-Bien Hoa was crowded and noisy. Lots of pedicab stopped around the car. I had planned to walk home, but for no reason, I climbed onto a pedicab and told the driver. “Drive me to the crossroad of Binh Hoa!”
The driver asked me, “Were you just got out of the camp?”
“How do you know?” I asked him back.
“I saw your kit-bag and your clothes, and I knew right away.”
“How many times did you see a guest like me?”
“A lot!” He laughed. “I used to be in the camp for nearly a year; I was a sergeant in Marine Corp. Why are you so late?”
“I don’t know! I thought I didn’t make any progress, perhaps!”
“You were so truthfully, weren’t you?”
I smiled without answer. I had heard that way of talking many times. Truthful or not, progress or not, many others have been released earlier although they used to be in high positions than we were! Why I had to stay in the camp four more years when the others had left the camp in 1988? Everything was not important any longer! I was only thinking of my family and my situation in my coming days.
The Chi Lang Street from Hang Xanh to Ba Chieu was noisy. The pedicab with its high platform driving into the crowd made me scare. Saigon was not my Saigon any longer. Saigon was changed to Ho Chi Minh City, which made me not recognize my Saigon where I used to live. Streets were busier, disorderly busy. Shops were everywhere. Streets looked narrower. Houses were built to pavements; some houses even covered the light poles. Traffics moved disorderly. It was totally true that they have freed Saigon and had freed the conscience of the Saigoneses as well.
The pedicab turned right on the Le Quang Dinh Street. The Ba Chieu Market with its sign was still there, but I could not see the Nam Tinh Ly elementary school and the Ho Ngoc Can high school. Kiosks surrounded those schools and the walls. My memory came back when I saw that street. I had known every stone, every step of the street where I used to walk every day from the beginning of my elementary school to the end of my high school. It was now so strange to me. There was only a pavement left without sidewalk. Pedestrians had to share that narrow pavement with traffics.
There came the crossroad of Binh Hoa! What was the street in front of me? I was stunned seeing the strange name on the street sign: “No Trang Long.” How could I forget its name Nguyen Van Hoc, and the tomb at the corner of that street and the Chi Lang Street? It was certain that it had become No Trang Long Street since Saigon had become Ho Chi Minh City.
My heart was pounding rapidly. I tried to look at my house where I used to live my childhood. The scene was changed differently. There was no space across the street. There were no yards in front of houses. Weird constructions were replaced them already. I could not forget location of my house of course, and I told the driver to stop his pedicab.
Some body shouted from the next door: “Ah, everybody comes to see Mr. Hai coming home!!” I could not recognize any one. They were just young girls when I had left; now they were standing there with their babies!
My brother and sister ran for me, and then my mother came to get me into my home. I was coming back home after sixteen years seven months and two days!
Spring 2002
Princess City, Indiana.
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