south vietnam the baby in the arms of the american nurse - poems by the phong - 2
DIARY OF A DEAD SOLDIER 2
poem by the phong
IN MEMORY OF NGUYỄN QUỐC VĂN
( 1943- 1968 )
TRANSLATED BY ĐÀM XUÂN CẬN
On these evenings
eternalized
depressing
rain driving
perhaps the tail of a typhon
I remember you
when I light a cigarette
Now what is left
you have fallen to dust
in-the depths of the Military Cemetery
Nothing, nothing
except for the fragments of your diary
Early one morning
Wearing the jungle dress
and a red beret
You were the passenger on my motobike
on the way to Hoàng Hoa Thám Camp
We said nothing
the road was reeling under the tide of darkness
Would we ever see a new dawn
you, myself
and all Vietnamese ?
Could it be
our life
would always be like this motorbike
always cranky
always needs repairing
never reliable
Finishing the one cigarette
we shared with each other
you dismounted
We pushed the motorbike
sweating in the cold air
You only lived to be twenty five.
In the first month' fighting
after doing the 119 Parachuting Course
and the 24 Officer Training Course
You nearly lost in an arm
in the battle of Dakto
Spring came
it rained a lot
I received your letter from Vĩ Dạ Village
You wrote :
" Huế is now sad
An Lộ is the same "
This spring
you were not back on leave
we longed to hear from you
You sister, my wife
her eyes swimming in tears
missing you
I could only light a cigarette
smoking dreamily
tried my best to soothe her
" Your brother will be all right
each soldier has a particular destiny "
Deep down
I could not believe it
Who could tell me
What destiny for those who die as cattle
As whole units are chewed up in a single battle
Amid the monstrous anger of the guns
and the rockets
Thousands of bullets race to you at the velocity of light
We had a very sad spring
the whole family missed you
Like thousand of families
having their loved ones at war
When would be back
from Khe Sanh
or Lang Vei?
Then
I was happy
to receive the news of your arrival
My wife
was happy
half smiling
half in tears
she could not help it
At eight one night
here you were
in rags
wearing thongs
and carrying a bagful of souvenirs of dead comrades
We were happy
to hear your battle stories
Changing into a new uniform
( that we ordered for you )
you said in a halting voice
"... Do you remember
platoon leader Lt Lộc was killed in Quảng Trị
with twenty nine soldiers
We were beaten this time
we could only operate at section level now ... "
"... Do you remember
94 Company leader Captain Thừa
( He who liked reading " Go down at midway"
depicting all the damnedest things about this wretched society )
Was also killed
his body mutilated ...
He was a loving husband and father ..."
" ... Do you know
how it is to be a soldier
You go to brothels
You slaughter the enemies
and you share among friends rice, clothing and
whatever small sum of money you can lay hands on "
Almost every month
the commander must hand out his own money
to save his men from starvation
He could not got it back
the dead soldiers leave their bodies for the vultures
We like each other nothing counts any more but mateship
We care for each other
in life and after death .
When the wives of the dead
come to ask for the bodies
We set out to recuperate every piece of human flesh
blasted
tender
burned
bloody
( as it was )
And we told the tearful women*
This is the remains of your men ...
" ... I tell you
I put all these in this diary
I want to confide in you"
I ask you only to read it
when we are no longer soldiers.
My platoon now has less than twenty slodiers
I used to tell them
" Victory is near
to have it
all of you must have discipline"
Do not let your endeavour to serve falter
whatever the conditions.
We are poor
because our country is at war
Do not look at the Americans
( Our salary is less than one tenth of an advisor' s )
But we flight for ourselves
For our families, for our kids, for your wives ...
I said this propaganda stuff
in spite of myself
Strangely enough
I found it pretty heartening
I tell you
Especially when there was not enough money
for a drinking bout
I said to my men as if saying to myself
If we are hungry
ask the people for food
No one can fail to pity us
their sons
killing each other because of alien ideologies
We will tell them
our sallary is worth every piaster of it
but it is not enough
After twenty years of war
our country become so poor
we treasure anything we have
Although it is not easier for them to earn money
they would not hesistate
It could be
we would never come to ask for their help again just this time
Whatever the conditions
keep discipline
keep our good name towards the people
We must fight well
to defeat the enemy
Be alert when you are on guard duty
Be well dressed
do not forget the helme
tighten your shoe strings
Do not smoke at night
Do not read in daytime
record arrival ad departure times
You serve in the Army
you must be prepared to put with these privations
In a day not very far off
you' ll be back home
when the war fades out
Deep down
in my heart
I think
we Airborne soldiers
will be back soon
Could be today,
tomorrow
or the day after
to our eternal resting place
Do you remember corporal Chắc
he man who gave his wife five thousand every month
He would keep only one thousand for himself
He left us recently
being cut down by a salvo of enenemy bullets
" Mother-father-wife-chidren- O Vietnam ! "
He moaned and swooned to death
For him
the war was finished
the dead were at peace
Not long after that
I lay in coma
a bullet pumped itself between my neck and shoulder
My feet bathed in blood
Walking up
I still saw the chicken US adviser
He hid in the water tank
repared to give himself up to the first incoming Việt Cộng
I felt pity for the goddam basterd
when we came to rescue him
I smelt medecine
and heard the complains of wounded soldiers
Then I opened my eyes
I was brought to Nguyễn Tri Phương Military Hospital
Huế was over there with frail and charming girls
Only in this city
we Vietnamese are bosses
in the shops and eveywhere
I want to say thanks to you
Huế
I am willing to die now
if I know you will be like this
Yet words fail me
when I think of my love in Nha Trang
full of Yanks
Listen
my love
I want you
to think of me
I want you
o know
the photo you sent me in Christmas' 67
I always keep with me
Just looking at it
makes me so happy
I also want you to know
there is no secret at all
What at present
I cannot tell you I want to live with you forever
This
you must understand
You have your own affairs
and also
your own future
While anything may
be happening to me
because I am a soldier
This bullet
would have killed me outright
and its trajectory slightly changed
And tomorrow
and the day after
no matter how much you cry
no matter how great your sorrow
The word of love
I utter today
would redeem nothing
and only make you sadder
Your photo
I always keep with me
long with the blood froup plaque
Your photo was with me
in Chtistmas night
when we were under attack
I wrote on it names of places
like Bản Sịa
Lang Vei
If I survive this
I will come to see you
to show you my own war pictures
If I die
your photo will accompany me on my last journey
Do not be sad
and do not ask why
I do not allow myself to say words of love to you
Do not pity me
I am not the only one to suffer in this fratricidal slaughter
I simply want
to save you an eternal heartbreak
in the prime of your life
O the foreign soldiers
who come to my country
I think each of you
has a girl friend or a wife waiting
I sincerely wish you
To be able to come home again
I am also thankfull to Americans
But I must say
I am not impressed by as a self styled nurse
This morning
I think of Dalat lost in mist at dawn and dusk
Looking at the medical corps sister
I know how I like her
She looks like my younger sister
just turned sixteen
he would not know I was here
How I want to join my parents, younger brothers, younger sisters and elder sister
When I come up there this time
I would buy a lot of things
For my younger sister a wristwatch
For my second younger brother a suit
For my youngest brother a toy pistol
For my father a transistor radio or a Ronson lighter
For my mother a pair of glasses, a pack of cards, and a shawl
O dear
perhaps I can only buy very small gifts ...
Hell!
the war is haeting up Hạnh Hoa, Quảng Trị, Phong Điền
I pray God and Buddha
I will able to go home soon
This very hour
I was lying here
wounded
hurt
and dispirited
The enemy opened up fire again
hat the hell is going on ?
I wonder
whether you know
we belong to the same race
we share the same longings
The times I searched your corpses on the battelfields
I always found family photos
These family photos bear testimny to your real sentiments
We all have feelings
a bullet cuts short a life
its does not dehumanize us
I put dowm here
the day of my leave
I will go to Saigon
on the 13 th February, 1968
Mates
I take leave of you
only to meet you again ...
On these evenings
eternalized
depressing
rain driving
perhaps the tail of a typhon
I remember when I light a cigarette
Now what is left
ou have fallen to dust
n the depths of the Military Cemetery
Nguyễn Quốc Văn
you are one of the thousand youths killed everywhere in Vietnam
Millions of hearts grieve because none of you will never return
You died
on the 21st March , 1968
when the 9 Airborne Battalion fought in Hóc Môn
To search out the enemy attacking Saigon in the Spring Offensive
You died on the battefield flooded with fire and blood
You missed the last schedule leave
Now you are here in the mortuary
You are covered by the flag of our motherland
your face calm, undisturbed
Amid heart-rending cries of these you love
After the burial
I am alone by myself
on the old motorbike
On the road reeling
under the tide of darkness
We the living
cannot say anything more
now that you have died
The words in your diary
so simple
and yet so painful
All your life
you had a tentative love affair with death
I know this now
When I see the tomb of the nameless warrior you draw
The rifle put against it along with the combat helmet
Now the love affair has come to its natural conclusion
O Nguyễn Quốc Văn !
In the days ahead
there will be thousands of youths yet to die
like you
We are suffocated
vercome with pains and despair
and humiliation
On mornings
afternoons
and evenings
the Armed Forces Radio broadcasts messages
Notifying us of the lost soldiers
their numbers
names of fathers and mothers ...
It simply means you have died
it simply means the end of the war is not the offing yet
It simply means
your next of kin can now claim a sum of money
On these evenings
eternalized
depressing rain driving
perhaps the tail of a typhon
I remember you
all of you
when I light a cigarette
As I hear the announcement of the Armed Forces Radio
I know you will never be back home again
I know the agonies of war will go on ...
SAIGON, OCTOBER 28TH, 1968.
poem by the phong
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