Endless remorse

(Baonghean)When recounting the story of their disabled, mentally ill, and pitiable son, Mr. and Mrs. Nguyen Thap Muoi always shed tears. Over the years, the pain has accumulated to the deepest depths, like Agent Orange/dioxin that has seeped into the body of the soldier, robbing his family of happiness and hope...

Horrifying dead forests

One morning, we went to Bac Thung hamlet, Van Dien commune (Nam Dan district) to meet Mr. Nguyen Thap Muoi (born 1946), the father of Tuan, a victim of Agent Orange, who suffers from severe mental illness. He also suffers from dozens of incurable diseases such as rheumatism, osteoarthritis, herniated discs, stomach ulcers, glomerulonephritis, pterygium, bronchitis, urinary tract infections, and splenomegaly... After about 5 minutes of conversation, Mr. Muoi had to ask permission to lie down on a long bench because his back was aching and numb.

Whether lying down or sitting, Mr. Mười recounted vividly his youthful years on the battlefield and his current family circumstances. In late 1967, while working as a forestry worker, he was called up for military service. His unit marched across the battlefields of Quảng Trị, Southern Laos, and Bình Long (bordering Cambodia). He still remembers marching through forests devastated by American chemical weapons. Entire forests were stripped bare, and he witnessed firsthand the drums containing the white substance scattered along the way.

Along with that came the smoke and dust, causing constant stinging and burning sensations in the eyes and nose. In those desolate, withered forests, only one species of tree survived, which our soldiers named the bull-headed tree, the dark tree, or the indomitable tree. After each march through these poison-contaminated forests, Mr. Mười, the healthiest in the platoon, frequently suffered nosebleeds, and his body gradually wasted away. He was sent for recuperation by his unit and, after some time, continued operations in Bình Long. There, Mr. Mười once again witnessed the devastation of the forests due to chemical contamination. This is not to mention the times they marched and slept in hammocks amidst these "dead forests," or the times they had to drink water from bomb craters due to thirst. There were also the times the unit engaged in agricultural production, growing vegetables in the disputed area not far from the "dead forests."

At that time, he and his comrades were not afraid of anything; even amidst such harsh and difficult conditions, the spirit and will of the soldiers were further tempered and strengthened. Now, thinking back, Mr. Mười shudders with fear. His life as a soldier was mostly spent fighting and living under the forest canopy, and on many occasions, he crossed forests devastated by dioxin. Only after the complete liberation of South Vietnam (1975) did he return to the city for medical treatment and recuperation. A year later (in 1976), Mr. Mười was discharged from the army, returned to his hometown, and started a family.

Mr. Mười was engrossed in conversation with his guests when his wife, Mrs. Trần Thị Lương (born in 1950), wheeled her bicycle into the yard. Three packets of traditional Chinese medicine were placed in the basket. When asked about it, Mrs. Lương replied, "I went to get medicine for my husband's back pain; he's been suffering from back pain all night and couldn't sleep for the past few days." After setting up her belongings, Mrs. Lương joined the guests in conversation. She continued the story of her life and family. During the war against the Americans, Mrs. Lương joined the Youth Volunteer Force and served in almost all the fierce battle zones in Nghệ An province, from Quỳnh Lưu and Nghi Lộc to Đô Lương and Nghĩa Đàn... After completing her duties, she returned to continue working in production, joining others in supporting the Southern battlefield. After liberation, she met Nguyễn Tháp Mười, a soldier from the same village who had returned from the battlefield. They fell in love and decided to build a happy home together.

Mrs. Tran Thi Luong cares for her son who suffers from mental illness due to exposure to Agent Orange.

A mother's heartbreak

The wedding of the couple, who emerged from the brutal war, was simple but filled with laughter and blessings. Everyone thought that the two, who had dedicated their strength and youth to the forests and roads to contribute to the victory, would be rewarded with joy and happiness. The newlyweds anxiously awaited good news day and night. In particular, Mrs. Luong's maternal instincts were always strong and a burning, constant desire. Then one day, Mr. Muoi could not hide his joy when he learned that he was about to become a father.

But life is cruel; on the day of delivery, the child passed away before it could even utter its first cry. Looking at the deformed infant lying motionless, both Mrs. Luong and Mr. Muoi couldn't hold back their sobs. Pain and misfortune continued to pile up on the lives of this soldier couple who had returned from war. More than a year later, Mrs. Luong gave birth again, but the child, barely out of sight and touch, left this world. The wife fainted repeatedly, her body withered, her mind in turmoil. Meanwhile, the husband wandered aimlessly, lost in thought.

During her third pregnancy, Mrs. Luong was extremely careful, always being cautious about her diet and movements. Mr. Muoi prevented his wife from doing heavy work and personally prepared delicious meals for her, hoping the child in her womb would develop normally and healthily. Both husband and wife were anxious and worried as they awaited their third delivery. Then the day arrived. Not long after, they discovered that Nguyen Van Tuan (born in 1978) had an abnormal intellect and showed increasing signs of mental instability as he grew older. Despite this, Mr. and Mrs. Muoi's yearning for healthy and sound children never faded. After Tuan, Mrs. Luong gave birth to Nguyen Thi Hong Tham (1980) and Nguyen Thanh Tung (1982).

Intellectually, both Tham and Tung developed normally, but their health was not good, and they were frequently ill. Tung, in particular, developed a hunchback early on and inherited most of his father's ailments. Tham's eyes remain bloodshot to this day, and despite numerous medical examinations, the cause remains unknown. Mrs. Luong shared: "Raising those two children to adulthood was a tremendous effort; sometimes they would both be hospitalized for months at a time." Currently, both Tham and Tung have their own families. However, like their parents, their children are not healthy and often suffer from chronic illnesses. Tung's child currently has a blocked tear duct, while Tham's child constantly complains of dizziness and cannot stand for long periods in crowded places...

During the conversation, a sudden shout came from the small room in the garden: "Open! Open!" This was accompanied by loud banging on the door and walls. Mr. Muoi reassured the guest: "It's a stormy day, Tuan is having another episode." Mrs. Luong sadly recounted the pain and misfortune that had plagued Tuan since his birth. From the moment he was born, Tuan had the fierce gaze of a madman. As he grew older, he became increasingly mischievous, tearing his clothes to shreds. He preferred to be naked, crawling around the house to cause trouble. Later, he wandered aimlessly and liked to pick fights with everyone. Sometimes Tuan would be gone for days, forcing his parents to search throughout the village.

Faced with this situation, Mr. and Mrs. Mười were forced to chain Tuấn's feet and confine him in a small room at the end of the garden. Tuấn still managed to break free, climbing up and removing roof tiles to get outside. Mr. Mười had to build another, more sturdy room to keep his son confined. We expressed our desire to see Tuấn's life firsthand, and Mrs. Lương took the key and led us to the garden. The sound of a lock opening, Tuấn rushed out the door and grabbed his mother's arm, glaring menacingly. He was naked, the room was littered with blankets and bedding, and a strong, foul odor filled the air… Mr. and Mrs. Mười had taken their son to psychiatric hospitals countless times, but the doctors always shook their heads, giving up, so they had to return home. To this day, they have lived in tears for over 30 years…

As they parted ways, Mrs. Luong couldn't hide her anxiety and sorrow as she thought about her son's future: "My husband and I are old and frail. Tuan's illness is getting worse, and his siblings probably won't be able to take care of him. I don't know how we'll manage then." Mrs. Luong's pain and anguish are also the pain and anguish of all mothers in the world who give birth to children affected by Agent Orange!

Text and photos: CONG KIEN