Bringing songs to distant forests and deep seas

(Baonghean) - Like many other comrades, when entering the life of a border soldier, we determined that we had to set foot in the most remote, precarious and dangerous places of the two borders. There are people who have never known electricity in their entire lives, only knowing the most supreme law, "village law, village law", there are young soldiers who have not heard a girl's voice for years, only knowing how to hide their homesickness in the roar of the waves...

Have you ever slept in the middle of the jungle, surrounded by leeches and the fear of wild animals coming to eat you? Yes, it must have been an experiential trip. As for us, 11 or 12 people of the Cultural Propaganda Team, we had many nights like that. The old Soviet Red Cross vehicle, as stuffy as a furnace, carrying us and all the props got stuck on the road to Thong Thu (Que Phong).

It was almost dark, and there was still more than 10 kilometers to go to the village. We had to perform tonight, what could we do? We split up, some cut bamboo, stretched the stage curtain to make a canvas, some lit a fire to warm ourselves, some ran the engine to get light and noise to scare away wild animals, and me and another guy walked into the village to ask for food from the villagers, at the same time announcing that the performance would be postponed until the next day.

10 kilometers uphill to the village, witnessing the villagers eagerly waiting for the performance night was heartbreaking. But when they learned that the actors were stuck in the middle of the forest, the villagers felt even more sorry for us. Every household contributed rice, chicken, and vegetables to cook so that we could bring them out in time.

That night, in the howling wind, the cold of the night forest seemed to penetrate my heart, I saw Ms. Giang, Ms. Hoa... (female soldiers of the team) secretly wiping away tears. They had just helped each other catch leeches, blood was flowing and staining the hem of their shirts. They had just reminded their little child who was still feverish and still calling for her mother, but because of her duty, she had to leave. I'm sorry, I know you're in the hospital, but I can't be absent from a role.

Yet, when those mothers went on stage, they forgot all their worries. Their singing seemed to be better, more profound because of the salty taste of tears, of silent sacrifices. Behind the stage, through each performance, I still saw teary eyes. But this time it was because of happiness. Are there any actors like us, instead of colorful bouquets of flowers, we received pumpkins, dong leaves and even... the head of a dried eagle (people often hunt eagles and the eagle's head is considered a valuable item)?

Cultural Propaganda Team (Provincial Border Guard) performs in Muong Tip, Ky Son

On the same trip, when we were returning, our car lost a wheel on a muddy slope. Only when we got out of the car did we realize the danger we had just experienced, because the closed Red Cross car had no window to look down. Our front wheel had fallen off the cliff, but luckily a tree trunk protruded and blocked it. The whole team looked at each other. We didn’t know what to say. Everyone believed that, at that moment, the only thing that saved us was luck from God. If it weren’t for the tree, “the whole team would have been together forever in the abyss,” as someone had just said.

Another time, the tire blew out on Highway 7. That time, it was the first trip for the young soldiers who had just joined the team like Mai Anh, Khue, and Hien. They were scared out of their wits, but they had been mentally prepared for the difficulties beforehand, plus the “steel spirit” of the brothers and sisters in the team “it’s normal”, so gradually all the worries quickly passed.

A skit to propagate the law. The team performed for the people of Nam Can, Ky Son.

In 1993, our team was founded with the names of those early days: Huong Giang, Nam Ha, Tran Hoa... then in 1995 it was Quang Ninh, in 1996 it was Anh Tuan, The Tuan, Kieu Vinh... who still "stick" with the team until now. There were many journeys that required days of walking to get to the performance location. There were places where we were the first and only artists at that time to set foot. There were places where the only prop we could bring was a guitar. But that still made the performance night full of excitement and emotion.

The brothers in the group often take on the task of carrying the women across the forest and streams, especially when they are tired or on their period. Mr. Tran Nam Ha is the one who has carried the women across the streams the most in the group. Although they are tired and hard, I have never heard the women complain. They love their jobs, but the experience has shown them much more, and they have "grown up" after the experience. I even believe that they are quietly proud of their work and happier with what they have contributed.

Imagine that, traveling a long distance in the cold rain, some people were so shaken by the car that they vomited, but when they reached the village, they saw the villagers and border guards, even though there were only a few dozen people sitting in the rain waiting to watch the performance, no one felt tired anymore. We still decided to perform in the rain, telling each other not to touch the microphone with our lips when singing, because the rain would expose the electricity, and if we touched it, we would be… electrocuted.

We sang and cried. Tears mixed with rain, because we felt sorry for the people, the soldiers… For a whole year, they had been waiting to see what kind of “light” we brought. That time, we performed in Buoc Mu (Ky Son).

Propaganda team soldiers on a trip to Truong Sa Dong Island.

The most profound memories of our Propaganda Team were the times we went to the islands and the oil rigs. The islands whose names alone made us feel all the hardships and difficulties: Truong Sa Island, Da Lon Island, Len Dao Island, Sinh Ton Island… And only when we went to the islands did we realize that all our hardships and difficulties were nothing compared to the soldiers there.

If on the land border, we get lost and still know that there will be a place with lights on, with the warmth of a village for us to rely on, then in the vast ocean, the islands and the houses on the platforms are as fragile as leaves in the middle of the vast ocean. Leaves surrounded by countless fierce waves.

Ms. Huong Giang is singing with soldiers on Truong Sa island.

Along the way to the island, we were all seasick, but when we saw our island, our rig with eager waving hands, we woke up. We sang without any accompaniment, singing as if it was the only chance we had left. There were soldiers on the island who had not seen their mothers for years. Whenever they were allowed to return home, they asked to stay “because they could not bear to see their comrades staying behind to celebrate Tet in the middle of the sea”.

There was an officer who, upon hearing the news of his father’s death, could only stand in front of the sea, burning incense sticks in a longing for the mainland. I once stayed up all night with a guard on Sinh Ton Dong Island. He told me about missing his loved ones, how much they longed for long hair, a gentle female voice, and thought they “could die if they could hold a girl’s hand”. And I cried. A tough man like me also cried when the soldier told me about the dirty provocations of the “strange ships” and how they had to hold back their emotions because just a little “trapping” would have unpredictable consequences.

Singing with the soldiers on the deck

There is a story like this, I will never forget. The story of a soldier on the submerged island of Len Dao. This place rarely rains, hoping for a rain to store fresh water but for months there was none. The soldier on the island was able to visit home. At midnight, hearing the rain, the soldier woke up and like a sleepwalker, he brought all the buckets, basins, pots and pans out to sit under the eaves of his house to collect water. The wife woke up, at first very surprised, looking at her husband. After understanding, she quietly went to him, and cried: Honey, this is not on the island. You are at home!

So, when we went to the island, we did not lack fresh water to drink, to bathe... And we brought back gifts from the sea, snails, flowers made from clams, shells, corals...

You see, we soldiers, we all understand one thing, for our comrades, for the peace of the border, the Fatherland, we must face and overcome all dangers and hardships.

Thuy Vinh

(Recorded according to Mr. Nguyen Quang Ninh,Head of Cultural Propaganda Team,Provincial Border Guard)