Thephong: Proud to be a Vietnamese + What a Sight 550,000 Gi's in Vietnam ! TENGGARA 5 / 1969

TENGGARA 5/ 1969
Dept. of English / Univ. of Malaya
Kuala Lumpur / Malaysia

                                                                  TENGGARA 5/ 1969

           Thephong 

                       
                                                                                        Translated from the Vietnamese
                                                                                                                                     by Dam Xuan Can


                                          Proud to be a Vietnamese


Saigon, September 1968

You are a Vietnamese soldier.   Be proud
The unreakable flow of bullets and rockets bruises you, staggers you,
                                                                                           singing the praises
You are a beast of burden.   Can you not love your country then?

Do not anyone
even if hou have at subsistence level
Americans are a special lot.   They are sinking with money, their asenal
                                                                                                          is fantastic ...

Do you believe
                         that the pay of all of us, including yours
                                                                                 comes from their treasure?
Just as one single dollar is worth more than two hundred Vietnamese
                                                                                                                 piasters
So a single word from the adviser-cum-master carries more  weight than
                                                                                              a hell lot of our ideas

Is the battefields we shed blood
so that our just cause will prevail some day
I say this
although I am pretty sick of hollow words like peace, independence,
                                                                                                    and freedom
I also know the two Vietnams are hirelings of world powers
We cannot control our own fate or that of our country.

This is because
we are poor and hungry
we are weak and powerless
Even if we are chained race
we ought to be proud
Be apologetic to the Allied advisers
even when they are to blame
Forget the frustrations and sufferings of over twenty years of war
Forget your own youth full of scars
I know this
and I ask you never to utter a cry
never, never ...

Don't be shaken by the reporter who wrote in sorrow
"In Cam Ranh the Allied MP's stripped Vietnamese girls
to search for smuggled goods
We accept their right of search, but can you explain to me
Why they tore down bras and slips, and why they outraged our national
                                                                                                                         flag"

Close your eyes
forget it
pretend not to see anything
You know down well you are not in position to do anything about it

Of course you may blush for the weakness of your countrymen
These days we are worse than beasts, would you believe it?
(A beast does not stand idle while its mate or partner is bullied.)
We all knew this in kindergarten textbooks of good conduct.

Right!  Right !   We are no longer ourselves in our country
I still ask you to be proud to be a Vietnamese
our country will know its day
Our people are tired of endless suffering.   Come and ruleover us, O 
                                                                                                               peace!
Of your friends
count the dead
and count the living
Do not forget those who died unburied, do not let them die for nothing
Do not believe an American militiaman
fights because of his goddam salary
None of us can ever bring ourselves to be mercenaries ...

Be assured!   This land of ours
improverished today
will be plentiful in mineral ores
The strafortresses are doing just that for us, apart from other things
                                                                       which I hate to tell you about.
When they come
the mighty earth shakes  violently, ceaselessly
As if under the spell of the macabre music you hear in churches on
                                                                                                          Sundays

I ask you, our sworn enemies, to be proud
that after twenty years of terrible war
You still stand on your feet
while the stratofortesses rain millions of tons of bombs and rockets
You deserve to be called true heroes of endurance

I never question this
In only aks tou to open your eyes wide enough
To see your country
being reduced to a happy hunting ground
Should we resign ourselves to this
                                                             until doomsday?
Is it not strange
that today, today
there are more GI's in Vietnam than in America?
Is it not fair
to ask
whether the end of the ordeal is near?

No matter how you feel
do not go all funny
do not show resentment to Allied soldiers
This bunch of whites, browns, blacks and reds
comes here to our rescue!
They brought with them
                                          flour
                                          corned beef
                                          and plastic wrapped goods
They are right if you remember our ancestral enemies
the  goddam Chinese
Are ready at all times to march in to force domination upon us
It won't not take long because they are right at our doorstep

Do not be galled by the sight of boards reading "No Admittance to
                                                                                                         Locals?"
My friend
bury your face in your hands
then cast a long glance at the sea
And the mountains and forests and meadows and streams.    This
                                                                                            country is ours.
O when will our country cease to be a baby in the arms of the American
                                                                                                                       nurse
When will regain its place as the second rice exporter in the world ...

I have been in every corner of my country
Wherever I was I could not help the pang in my heart
It is painful to know
we are no longer able to feel ourselves
                                                Every bullet
                                          every toilet roll
                every piece of corrugated iron
                      every piaster of your salary

Does not comes from our land

Do not go all funny, man
mountainous sorrow will make you a philosopher
Before long
we will have no taste left for romantic literature
Instead we will write treatises on human despair

I know you
do not want to bear any more talks about it ...
I only want to tell you
Do not let the foreigners whore your wives
Do not approve of mixed marriages
however justified the motive
Educate your children
on the hardships and misfortunes of today
(To live in suffering is to deserve to live)

When you go out in the streets
when you are on operations in the countryside
Try hard to protect our women and girls
Do not acte likecursed strangers
(Nobody can afford to be a foreigner in his own country)

Cool down man
when you are taken as undesirable background in photographs
When you see Yanks coming out of the PX all smiles
Cool down man

When you have not enough to live on
it goes without saying
You should refrain from buying gifts for your girl friend of your own
                                                                                                                    race.



                                        What a Sight 550,000 GI's in Vietnam !


Saigon,  22nd  October 1968

Well! Well!
Our friends
                        The Americans have arrived in our country
They have manpower
They have money
They have munitions
(the ingredientsof the magic  formula
And there are 550,000 of them
Wild places
                       turn into real estate
Petrified
stupefied
we Vietnamese see American establishments mushrooming
Cam Ranh Bat, Cam Ranh Air Base, Cam Ranh City
Quy  Nhon, Chu Lai, Tan Son Nhat, Bien Hoa ...
Anywhere they set foot
                          they are followed by our women and girls
                          the fun makers par excellence
As for you
you must produce passes
when you come down to any of these places 
Don't you see signboards
                          reading "Locals keep out"
I know how you feel
But don't let patriotism wall you in
(And I need not tell you true love defies petty jalousy.)
In order not to be mad
keep telling yourself
We must choose between the lesser of the two evils
                           namely the Chinese and the Americans
We all cherish
                           the freedom of profession
                           the freedom of life
                           and the freedom to die and starvation
I urge you to banish all sombre thoughts
which only cloud your knowledge of the real situation of our country.

Do you know
                         what Vietnam is?
Vietnam is the battlefield
Or irrelvant Western-style democarcy and phony socialist forces
We have been paying
                          for this
                          all our lives
                          but to no avail ...
Without respite
                          day and night
                          our country exposes itself
                          to rockets and bombs
Hundreds of raids are being carried out daily
                          How many have died?
We don't know
                          the dead necer asked to be counted
                          or even to be remembered
We can only be sure of one thing ;
                          we will never suffer from overpopulation
For the survivors
each grain of rice we eat
is imported from vast fields in California
Germany and Korea are divided countries too
                           but they are doing all right
While we are in suffer the most cruel mad obscene way
                           What an irony!

I've been walking all roads of the beloved land
including footpaths

One afternoon when I stopped, terribly hungry
                           What have I to tell you?
                           Where can I ask
                           for a clean breathing space?
In thousands of bars from muddy Pleiku, Kontum,
is dusty Nha Trang, Danang
Our girls brazenly ply their trade with sex-starved GI's
                            Coloreds!
                            Whites!
                            Reds!
                            Blacks!
                            Democarcy protectors!
                            Freedom fighters!
                            I have seen them all!
Right! Right!   They are always right with women!
Lovers of a quick buck
                            our girls are not too bad
                            after all!
A  Negro GI always showers dollars notes on the girl he sleep with
He pays double everywhere
                            starting from the brothel
(He does so out not frustration with his white colleagues)
Man to man
I do not object to them
What troubles me
is the fact there are indecent women.

Do you see
my friend
'special' advertisements inserted in English language dailies?
With one hundred dollars
                           one third of the monthly sllary of a GI
                           you can buy two girls from good Vietnamese families
The color of your skin
does not really matter.

O my God!
I know of a family with two girls,
For reasons that I dare not elaborate
The elder sister set out to make love with one GI after another
She soon became unfit
and bed-ridden
Her younger sister cried loud
sinking into the deepening darkness
On the following morning
                          a GI turned up
                          saying he wanted his money back
He was simply not sastifield
                          he had not got the right value for his money
How the hell could I believe it?
The frail younger sister hurried to follow him
To a dingy hotel room
in stormy eather
Her parents lost news of her in a month
until one sad evening
The same GI  appeared
to ask them to come in the 3 Field Hospital
to claim her corpse
She was lying there
                         covered by a sheet
                         her face pallid
She was the wife of a Vietnamese soldier
They were with each other only two days
Out of two years of married life (You must find this hard to understand)
His battalion fought
                         at Khe Sanh
                         Lang  Vei
                         and A shau
He was the only survivor of a whole platoon
                         he was allowed tocome this time
Nobody dared to tell him the cause of her death
he would not believe it anyway
But for him
she was as dead as an any other dead person
he did not need to know anymore

We have got
Cam Ranh City, Cam Ranh Air Base
Even in Tan Son Nhat
the main strip has got a foreign name
We are living in our own land
and we feel estranged
as if we are yellow Negroes

Today
the 22nd October 1968
The radio announced
the change of color of the MPC's (*) took effect since yesterday
I agree completely
I have unreserved praise
for this just measure
But what did I see?
                         Since seven this morning
                         a stream of sad-faced women and girls
Cramming the road to Tan Son Nhat Airport
to present a petition
Their property
their savings
their payments for 'services'
had come to nothing ...

In an office there was  a Vietnamese woman
whose officer husband was away
She had a very cute son
he could mumble a few words
He wept and screamed
                          being very sacred of his mother's American visitors
Unlike her
he was not a bit impressed by dollars
Shaking his head
                          shouting houder
                          broken in tears
                          he called his father's name
Alas
his father had long been denied leave
Now he was leading his troops against the enemy in the highlands
The woman worked for the Americans
                         to get better money
                         and that would be that - she thought -
The kinky American officer who employed her thought a bit differently
He said;
                          'I will help you,
                           your husband is an army officer
                           he is my best friend"
Not long after that
                           he fell madly in love with her
One rainy evening
he offered to drive her home
it rained
it rained
The car skidded on the road
when he suddenly pressed the brake pedal
The car did not overturn
                             but she was trapped squarely on his lap
Holding her tight
                             in his two hairy arms
                             he kissed her savagely
raped her in the back seat
He gave all the MPC's he got
a hell lot of money I tell you
That night
the son went to bed early
unaware the officer had taken the place of his father
                              in the bed of his parents
The next morning
he got up
amazed to see so many MPC's
He did not like them
                              he tore them to pieces 
                              calling his mother
Startled
she rushed to him
                              handed him a wrapped parcel of candies
                              Telling him it was from his father in the war zone
                             Jubilant
                             he held it tight
                             mumbling his father's name
Dead tired
after a hellish night of love
she did not bother to go to work
Streching her shoulders
half smiling
she looked at her bed filled with MPC's
All this from the work of a single night
                              now she had become a millionairess
She summoned the household
handing out to them all Vietnamese notes left
The 500 piaster note with the hero Tran Hung Dao On
The 200 piaster note with the hero Quang Trung On
The 100 piaster note with Le Van Duyet On
She said;
"I give you all these cheap things
                             I do not want them anymore
                             They are very, very cheap ..."

Today
the 22nd October
she came to work
                             read about it all in the newspaper
Two days previously
the American authorities announced the change of the color of the MPC's
She wanted to cry
her dream of wealth
remained a dream
Also the Yankee officer departed to the States at five in the morning
Suddenly
                            she remembered her husband
Suddenly
                            she remembered her son
She was taken to the hospital
after swallowing an overdose of sleeping pills
And she refused to be brought home
for fear of seeing the worthless pile of dollars
She broke down again
                            Those around her thought her delirious
                            When they heard her spaeking English to herself;
                            "Go home
                             Go home
                             the Yankee
                             I disliked ..."

Today I went out
                            the road now are as good as the highways in the States
I felt gratified to the RMK
and the US Army financed road reconstruction program
Today I wen tout
                             and I had a strange feeling
                             it was not election time
But I saw
                             NIXON-AGNEW posters everywhere
                             I was confused beyond words
I want to ask them what they think
                             the soldier wife died in the hospital
                             exhausted from making love with the Gi's
                             the officer whose wife became delirious after losing 'hard
                                                                                                  earned' money
I have a further question
                             to ask good American like Bernard Fall
Who wrote The Two Vietnams discussing problems in both the North and the
                                                                                                                   South
And died
                             on Vietnmaese soil
                             On a field trip with the US Marines in Quang Tri
I want to ask good Americans
                             like the US missionary
Who tried to learn about us
                             and to do good things in the name of Christ
You are people of wisdom
                             people of strength
                             But are you honest enough
To admit the stupid mistakes your fellow countrymen in the name of friendship?
I for one cannot entertain
                             the prospect of our girls becoming prostitutes and boy pimps


The land of ours counts on you
Men who are not Communists
Men who have convictions
Men who are not servants
Men who have dignity
Men who do not allow wives to work for Americans
Men who have hopes
Men who bring salvation

I know you will feel humiliated
I know you will hate me
I tell you
                           you must learn American
(If you want to know
                           what the hell going on ...


    THEPHONG


 *'Military Payment Certificates (MPC's) are issued tp service-men as currency for military-operated facilities
 and services provided in Vietnam.  They are used in lieu   of the green dollar. 

    (TENGGARA  5/ 1969  - p.  82 -  92)
                      

                                                          The Phong (i.e. Do Manh Tuong 1932-     ]
                                                                       PHOTO: LU QUOC VAN

four vietnamese poets : nguyen quoc thai -- ta quang trung -- du tu le -- hoang khoi phong / TENGGARA 4

TENGGARA 4
Dept. of  English / Univ. of Malaya
Kuala  Lumpur/ Malaysia

                                               1- Nguyen Quoc Thai
                                    [ Nguyễn quốc Thái 1943-       ]

                                                                                                                   
            Translated from the French
            by Chan Soo Ping*
   


                                   My Country and Points for Questioning

                        Often I am sad and often  I ask myself the question:
                        To whom does this country belong at this present hour?
                        The days when the bullets whistle all round the towns
                        and when the frail bamboos are smeread with flesh and blood.

                        For the ten, twenty years this war had lasted
                        our children have almost lost the power of smiling,
                        Often I am said and often I ask myslef the question :
                        How many springs would it cost my country ?

                        The clang of armour, dismal as the tide
                        The roar of planes, ominous as the storm
                         I hear, and often I say myself, not knowing how to cry ;
                         We have lost our brothers one by one.

                         Each noon, when the still sun gilds Saigon,
                         I consider the future so dim, so distant,
                         and the old mother, her eyes brimming with tears,
                         musing over coming battles and her children.

                         Winter brings forth an abundance of cold clouds
                         The sun sinks like youths
                         Often I gaze around and terror seizes me:
                         Till when will my country remain in this mosfortune ?

                          Poor country, poor Vietnam,
                          Often I am said and often I ask myself :
                          How many times could you rejoice at independence
                          and how many times proclaim liberty


--------
  *  The originals of these poems are in Vietnamese.  They are     translated into French as follow : "My country and Points for Qustioning "  by R.P Nguyen Ngoc Lan ; "Wild Grass" by  Lê van Hao ; " Oh! This is Nothing " by Lê van Hao -- the English translations here published were done from the French by Chan Soo Ping.  
  And, "Wild Grass by Ta Quang Trung" +" This is for my son not yet born and named by Hoang Khoi Phong"  are in Vietnamese, translated into English by Dam Xuan Can.[]




                               2-   Tạ Quang Trung

 Translated  from the the vietnamese
  by Dam Xuan Can


                                        Wild Grass
                                               
                          I have  resigned to my loneliness
                          like a star lost at the edge of the universe
                          sailing in darkness
                          with anguish and sorrows
                          loves and hates, 
                          with fading ideals ;
                          and deeds which meet defeat ;
                          for I have resigned myself to be a blade of wild grass
                          that grows and increases in this corner of the land.
                          And I have lulled myself to a deep sleep
                          of a mass of empty promises ;
                          in prison the awareness of liberty excerts itself ,
                          the dream of paradise flowers in hell.

                          And I have seen the soul decay
                          and the body tire
                          and my two hands wasted
                          and my past defiled
                          by more than one treachery .
                          I have resigned myself to be an anonymous blade of grass
                          in the botanical garden
                          which the giant's hell tramples on without pity.

                          So many times has hatred possessed me
                          when the will has wished in overcome fate
                          and the mind has carried this bitterness
                          of anonymous grasses, insignificant ,
                          trampled underfoot as a a nation is trampled.

                          And I have seen myself awakened, wild of looks
                          gazing at buds withered
                          and trees parched
                          by the fires of days and years .

                          Reduced to this vegetable state ,
                          I pray in silence
                          that my remain forever a blade of grass
                          which grows on this dear land
                          to bear all the outrages in store for the little and the weak ,
                          all the humiliations of todays .


                                                  3-        Du Tu Lê
                                                          [  i.e. Lê cự Phách 1942 -     ]


    Translated from  the French
    by Chan Soo Ping

                                                      Oh ! This is nothing

                           I have already told you, sleep my little love ,
                           The bullets crack constantly but they crack so far away
                           Even if their loud din sounds near tomorrow
                           That will change nothing, nothing will shock us
                            Not suprising is it, indeed, since we came into the world
                            The bullets have cracked in our honour, the fires have
                                                                       raised their flames of joy
                            The days have suffered, the nights have sobbed
                            And in the heart of the land
                            So many and so many looks of terror
                            So many and so many feet have dragged
                            So many and so many fingers have prepared to pull the trigger
                            The threatening air
                            Now the rows of barbed wire warn my friends and I who have
                                                                        almost given up
                            And the trumpet sounds harass us, they drive us mad .
                            I have already told you, sleep my little love
                            Oh all  this, it is nothing, such has life been for a good long time
                            Such is life, it is nothing, don't you know ?


                                      When one dies young

                             When  the killed in action is only a chap under twenty-one ,
                             What is left for him to bring to the world beyond ?
                             The rifle is too bulky for him to keep ;
                             And he surely does not have the heart to give the unused grenades
                                                                         to his parents .
                             Happiness  has never been fully within his tiny grasp .
                              And love is merely a vague thing in his splatered brain .

                             He aks himself why the must die,
                             Truth, as usual, remains hidden till the agony.

                             All of a sudden he realises his youthfulness;
                             All of sudden he senses the futile deat ;
                             Alas, everything is too late ,
                             And his only reward is his very last breath.

                             The soul is fading away, but the eyes are still turning backwards
                             On his footsteps
                             Countless people are dutifully followin .


                                              4-     hoang khoi phong
                                                     [i.e   nguyễn vinh hiển 1943 -     ]


      Translated from the vietnamese 
      by Dam Xuan Can


                                   This is for my son not yet born  and named

                             I am  tewnty four. I am not married, but have many sweethearts ;
                             Yet as a man I must think of the future ,
                             I will get married to one whom I love .
                             Problably I will then be twenty- eight and your mother just 
                                                                                                                turned twenty.
                              On the wedding night I will pretend to forget I am a soldier
                             I will whisper to your mother about my long-cherished pkan ;
                             At last you will see the day .
                             But the war will in all likehood outlast my life , 
                             So I must think of your future in the very first with your mother .
                             When you are born you will be as beautiful as your mother and 
                                                                                                 more intelligent than I am ;
                              You'll carry out my plan bravely ,
                              I am sure I cannot be with you always ,
                              In war bullets are insentisive .
                              These words you'll see and grasp through your mother
                              When you're about to enter high school
                              I want to say frankly to you
                                                                     You'll be with your mother more often .
                              Because of one or another reason
                                                                   (infancy or the war for instance)
                              She is very clever
                                                              while I am but a soldier .
                              All the time I wish your life were different from mine .
                              I won't be able to give you a handsome amount of money ;
                              I hope you'll have a happy childhood 
                              Because I knew of battles and their tragic aftermath as a child .
                              Whatever the situation your mother and I wish you to finish 
                                                                                                                     high school
                               In the event of the call-up you'll be an officer 
                                                                                                     - it's better that way.
                               It is good for you to learn one of the arts;
                               Poetry, writing or painting enables you to express yourself;
                               Music makes you relaxed and unlikely to indulge in delusions
                                                                                                                             of youth.
                               Don't be like me.  I hope in the pub whenever a fight end;
                               I drink to forget the slaughter and to down sadness;
                               Do you know drinking only makes my sadness more acute.
                               Your mother reproaches me a lot, but she gives in soon,
                               After all she prefers meeting me in a pub than in gambling dens 
                                                                                                                            of brothels
                               It is not because I do not love her,
                                                                                         I love her more than myself.
                               But I am a soldier,
                               And the war does, short of killing me body and soul when 
                                                                                                              I am away from her
                               It is very good for you to know an  art.
                               I know artists  suffer a lot in  a small  and weak country,
                               They simply are not free and do not have enough to eat --
                               I want you to express your feelings and pave the way for 
                                                                                                        those coming after yon.
                               This is the reason I am writing these lines to you.
                               In case I die
                                                     before the war ends,
                               You'll be a mona then.  You'll fight in my place to achieve peace.
                               If I die
                                           and peace returns,
                               Praise peace,
                                             Denounce war.  But in deadly seriouness,
                               I must say to you,
                                                  Rebuilt the nation
                                                                                      Regain your pride.
                               You should concern yourself with this all your life.
                               Without any help from me, you should know yourself.
                                    []

                                     (TENGGARA 4 - p. 37 - 41.)