The day December 6^th in this year marks the 35^th anniversary of the establishment of the Vietnam Veterans Association (December 6, 1989 – December 6, 2024), a milestone celebrating the enduring spirit of those who embody the essence of the green of the country. Numbers serve as reminders, but I believe that whether fifty, one hundred, or even a thousand years from now, veterans will forever shine brightly in the proud chronicles of our nation’s history—a symbol of unwavering faith in victory and unyielding loyalty and devotion.

Soldiers marching on Truong Son Road. Photo: People's Army Newspaper

I remember that I met the 80-year-old veteran, Vu Ngoc Thu, in the summer of 2022, in the hallway of the T80 station, located in Military Region 9, in Can Tho. He was a war invalid with a 2/4 disability rating, originally from Hai Duong. We spent 15 days together at the station. We lived in the same hallway, so we met each other constantly. One of us was twice the age of the other; one had experienced the wars, carrying visible scars on his body, while the other only knew of the war through history lessons and literary works. He was from the North, and I was from the South, yet we still immersed ourselves in conversation, regardless of the golden sunset on the west side and the harsh calls of the birds.

I am still deeply impressed by Uncle Thu and the story of the five soldiers who walked together, each with a body that was no longer a whole one. Some had even suffered brain injuries. He told the story in a deep, sorrowful, and vast voice. One night, the wind from the Cuu Long River stung the eyes of nearly 30 people sitting together. It was as if he had revived the glorious yet tragic times of the past. One thing I believe is that the spirit of that veteran still finds solace in the war, allowing him to live through these peaceful times.

On the morning of September 14^th, 1968, Vu Ngoc Thu, leading 40 soldiers, was responsible for a flanking maneuver, coordinating with other units to attack the enemy and retake our H9 warehouse. Amidst the deafening sound of explosions, after a bullet from the enemy pierced the upper part of his left arm, Uncle Thu narrowly escaped death when another bullet struck the top of his head. He held his bleeding head in a daze, feeling disoriented and confused… then lost consciousness. It wasn't until he regained consciousness that he learned how his comrade, a soldier named Dieu from Phuong Ky village in Tu Ky district, Hai Duong, had carried him to the hospital.

In 1971, due to a disability resulting in 61% loss of health, Vu Ngoc Thu was eligible to return to the North for rest and discharge from military service. However, he volunteered to stay in the Southeastern region, returning to the rear to continue his work until the guns fell silent at the end of the war.

Despite his disability and the challenges of old age, Uncle Thu kept traveling and searching for his former comrades, as well as the person who had carried him to safety that day. It wasn’t until 2014 that the old veteran finally found his savior. They held hands again and set out to find the green memories of comradeship.

The war has passed, but the pain remains. Forever. The physical wounds may heal with time. However, the emotional scars sometimes sting throughout a lifetime, especially for the veterans, those who always wish for the country to be united. Amidst the line between life and death, the choice to return or to depart forever is always made with acceptance. The word "sacrifice" may seem light as a breeze, but the wind keeps blowing endlessly along the path of those who return.

In 2023, I had the opportunity to visit Nghe An, specifically Dien Chau district, to donate a bookshelf to the cultural center of this district. What surprised me the most was the warm welcome we received from a group of veterans. These soldiers, who returned from the war with graying hair, were the ones actively involved in building the bookshelf to promote reading culture across the villages of the district. In just one district, there are over 17,000 members of the Veterans Association. Even more surprising was that they had established a charitable fund called "The House of One Thousand Dong". This initiative encourages contributions of at least 1,000 dong per day, or more, to help build and support fellow veterans facing difficulties. Some contributed 50,000 dong, while others donated 500,000 dong from their monthly pensions to the fund.

From that fund, the veterans spread a beautiful act of solidarity and camaraderie. I sat with the veterans and listened to their stories of achievements, not from past battles, but from what they are doing now. With 1.2 billion dong raised in that year, they had helped build 45 new houses for their fellow comrades. And they themselves dedicated 3,000 hours of labor, taking on the roles of builders, plasterers, and decorators. They shared their stories with joy, and their eyes shined with love and pride.

I was fortunate on my journey to gather materials for my writing about our nation’s great war. I call it fortune because I had the opportunity to hear remarkable stories from both wartime and peacetime, shared by the veterans. Just recently, during a brief trip to Da Nang in October, I was lucky to meet Mr. Nguyen Tien Dai, the Head of the traditional communication committee of Regiment 31, Division 2, Military Region 5.

The veteran has gone through three wars: the historic Ho Chi Minh Campaign, the Southwest Border War, and the Northern Border War. However, for the past 20 years, he, along with his comrades and collaborators, has tirelessly searched for, verified, and brought back more than 300 fallen soldiers' remains. In his journey's diary, he has traveled across the entire country, even going as far as Cambodia. As we parted ways, he smiled lightly and said, "Others go to supermarkets and restaurants, but I go to cemeteries day and night."

For the veterans, just sitting with them, you can always feel a deep emotion and the pain in their words. Their hearts still echo with memories of bombs, blood, and battlefields. Their love still drives the search for those who returned, for the comradeship among them, and for the yearning for happiness.

Reporting by TONG PHUOC BAO – Translating by HONG VAN