Truong Son Road sixty years ago

That was in early 1950 (Canh Dan), leaving the Inter-Zone 4 Military Academy, I was selected to attend a resistance culture class at Bach Ngoc (Do Luong). The class was taught by many famous artists such as Nguyen Tuan, Dao Mong Long, Truc Quynh, Hoang Tich Linh, Chu Ngoc... After the course, a number of us were able to form the Binh-Tri-Thien Art Troupe led by playwright Buu Tien. The troupe consisted of more than twenty people.

Some were young military students such as Dinh Lang, Danh Hue, Vu Bang, Pham Ngoc Canh (later in the General Political Department Drama Troupe, became a poet), Phung Quan (later became a poet). There were some older brothers and sisters such as Cao Xuan Hao (later a professor), Tan Nhan (later a singer), the rest were all newly recruited Nghe-Tinh students. Our troupe was stationed in Chau Phong (Duc Tho-Ha Tinh) to stage the show. After a month, the troupe completed the main performance, the play "Ten no" written and directed by Buu Tien. The play tells the story of the collapse of the Hue front, Mr. Ung Uy - a prestigious prince who left his family and the royal palace to go to the war zone (up there) to fight the enemy with the people. Mr. Buu Tien directly played the role of Mr. Ung Uy - the main character - very successfully. After a night of performance serving the people of Duc Tho, our group set off for the war-torn Binh-Tri-Thien.

Crossing Deo Ngang Pass to Quang Binh. Resting during the day, marching at night. At this time, most of Quang Binh province had been occupied by the French, but our side and the enemy were locked in a battle, either fighting each other during the day or the Viet Minh at night. We passed Ron, went up to Minh Cam and really started to cross the forest and streams. Traveling all night, about sixty or seventy kilometers, we came across a military station, a place to receive visitors.

There were few going out, but many going in. Gathering together as a group, the liaison brothers led us to another military station. We followed the trail through dense forests, then through grassy fields that were as thick as our bodies, then through another dense forest. The most frightening thing about going into the forest was the leeches. The leeches were small and long, like the leeches of our homeland. They perched on tree branches, and whenever people passed by, they would jump and shoot at them. Especially in the ears and necks. They would suck their fill of blood and roll down to the waistband of their pants. Feeling itchy, they would reach out and pick them up and throw them away. It was terrible! During that trip to the forest, I remember two memories the most.

The day before, we were exhausted after climbing Ba Ren slope, and a few days later, it was popular to prepare to climb U Bo slope. We didn’t know how high it was, but all we could see was vast green trees. Our whole group had to stop at the bottom of the slope to prepare rice balls, water, and sticks.

In the evening, we started to go up. The paths were winding. Many parts required us to push aside leaves and trees to go up. There were sections where the foreheads of the people behind us touched the feet of the people in front of us. Breath came out of our mouths and ears, but we kept going, unable to stop. It was not until the next morning that we reached the bottom of the slope and found a path winding through the reeds.

That time, we went to Cua land in Quang Tri, a wild mountainous area. At the military station, people told us that there was a fierce legless tiger here. I heard that because its leg was shot and broken once, the animal became more aggressive and always stalked people in the forest. According to experience, holding bamboo sticks, sticking close together, holding high a burning torch, any tiger would be afraid.

Following the liaison guide, our group (with some main force soldiers) walked nervously. The whole group was lit up by torches, a corner of the forest, the bamboo shoots were sticking up, sticking up. There had been no incidents yet. The atmosphere was tense and indescribable. I held on tightly to the person in front, praying to God and Buddha as I walked. Suddenly, "rumble", "rumble" and screams arose. The tiger had pounced on the group and taken away a main force soldier. So painful! It was truly the tiger of Cua forest.

Our army also entered the Ba Long war zone, then the Hoa My war zone and down to the coastal area of ​​Northern Thua Thien.

The performances began in the guerrilla zone. In the troupe, there was an uncle named Chau, strong and cheerful like a child. He was not only the one who fed the troupe twice a day, but also took care of setting up the tent, backdrop, and lighting. In those days, there were no kerosene lamps (of course, no electricity), no loudspeakers or amplifiers. The brothers had to practice speaking loudly and clearly, their voices naturally resonating. People from near and far informed each other to come and watch the "performance". Mr. Cao Xuan Hao played the guitar to keep the rhythm for the choir. Mr. Danh Hue played the accordion to accompany Ms. Tan Nhan's singing. Then came the long play, and everyone silently watched.

The most touching scene was when Mr. Ung Uy opened the gilded cage, caught his precious golden bird, and let it fly freely into the forest, so that he could leave his rich life and go "up there" (the war zone) following Uncle Ho's call, wholeheartedly fighting the French to save the country. The audience applauded and cheered. After the performance, the theater was dismantled, and our troupe marched to sleep in a village about three or four kilometers away. This was a coastal area, where the people were both fishermen and farmers. Only when the French raided the village did the villages fall into chaos. But after the raid, the guerrillas and the villagers cleaned up, and life returned to peace...

After our great victory at Thanh Huong (June 1950), I left the group and was assigned to the War Zone to work at the Propaganda Department of Regiment 95. In early 1951, I got a severe case of malaria and had to be treated at the Division Infirmary. The malaria had passed, but my health had declined significantly. I was thin, my skin was yellow, my hair had almost fallen out, and my left eye was completely damaged.

The regiment issued me a discharge certificate, allowing me to return home as a disabled soldier. When I left, I was 16 years old, in a group, in a troop, crossing forests and streams, full of youthful enthusiasm. Now I returned alone, with a thin backpack with a few sets of clothes, a bag of rice tied to my waist, and a bamboo stick. Still following the old path, from one military station to another, sometimes joining this group, sometimes joining another group. Crossing Highway 9, passing Deo Ngang Pass, returning to Huong Son, Huong Khe, and then passing Thanh Chuong. After exactly one month of traveling, in August 1951, I arrived in Do Luong town, 26 kilometers from my hometown.

The Truong Son trail I used to walk on, the road that welcomed military and civilian groups to Binh-Tri-Thien, to the Central Highlands, down to Zone 5 to the South. The road that saw off military and civilian groups to free Thanh-Nghe-Tinh, to Viet Bac, the "windy capital", was probably the predecessor of the Ho Chi Minh trail later (since 1959). Then the Ho Chi Minh trail at sea with unnumbered ships... Only in the Ho Chi Minh era, were there such legendary roads!

Tran Huu Dinh