Buried Tragedies

by Robert Padfield (Australia)

Making a local connection Vietnam

Buried Tragedies Finding a Man, a Father, Grandfather, Husband and a Soldier It was late April, and a long dust trail, hung over Cua Dai Street, Hoi An. Sitting alone, sipping coffee on a small table in front of my guesthouse, I watched fascinated as the endless procession of daily life whizzed by in a blur, scooters beeping each other in a symphony of noise endlessly flowing in both directions. On the balcony opposite, a Vietnam flag, stuck out on a thin pole dancing, led by the wind. I stared at it, thinking of all the buried tragedies this flag represented, each of the 5 points of the star had a meaning, Intellectuals, Peasants, Soldiers, Workers and Youths with the red background representing bloodshed and the revolutionary struggle of another time. My eyes wandered to my host family, (an elderly man) a grandfather tending the garden he had lovingly nurtured, his wife fussing over their granddaughter, preparing her for school, a proud smile, tender and touching. They were in their 70’s, content with the world, sharing and living with their family going about their daily chores. I enjoyed watching the family’s morning routine. Their daughter Miss Bi, would jump on her rusty bicycle, balancing her basket and join the throng of traffic heading to the market to haggle over the produce with the many vendors for the day’s food supplies. Upon her return, breakfast was prepared, chicken pho with ginger, something I looked forward to, as I did in the afternoon sharing a few cold beers with her father to escape the heat of the day. “Miss Bi, could I ask your father what was it like during the war?” “Sure”, turning to her father and translating my question. “My father was very famous during the war you know, he has many medals, he would be happy to show them to you”. Her father smiled, went inside and returned a short time later, carrying a tray with his medals, his wife accompanying him and through Miss Bi, he told me his story: “I was a commander for the North Vietnamese Army for nearly 10 years from 1965 until the war ended in 1975”, he looked at his wife, even after all these years, tears were welling up in her eyes. “We made a vow to each other that if we both survived the war we would marry, it was 1975”. He pointed to his medals, “Each represented a conflict” he stated proudly, “This medal was personally presented to me by General Giap a famous leader”. Memories came flooding back, a description given to each medal, time and events unfolded before my eyes as story upon story was told, 10 years is a long time. “My father, swam to Cham Island, which today is a popular tourist destination off Hoi An to rescue two of his fellow soldiers, a distance of 18 km from Hoi An, twice”. We looked at each other, he lifted his arm to show me his bicep, from swimming, he nodded, we both smiled. “After the war, my father became a policeman to help people repair, rebuild and heal”. “What did your wife do during the war?” I asked, they looked at each other, she had a glint in her eye, pointing her fingers to the sky Ackackackackack simulating a machine gun. “My wife was a soldier too.” He sat back, lit a cigarette, lost in thought, smiled at his wife, they had both experienced terrible times but had not only survived the war, but had built a wonderful life for their family. A sense of calm came through, I felt very fortunate to be in their presence. “Time to water my garden”, he got up patted me on the back, the sound of the street noise returning, I turned around and stared at the Vietnam flag waving across the street, contemplating, understanding a little bit more.