Remember the heroes of the sea

(Baonghean) - Twenty-six years have passed since the tragic event of March 14, 1988. The image of the brave and resilient Vietnamese People's Navy soldiers fighting the enemy to their last breath at Gac Ma, part of Vietnam's Truong Sa archipelago, has become a symbol of the spirit of readiness to sacrifice to protect the sovereignty of the Fatherland's sea and islands.

For the families and loved ones of the heroes of the sea, amidst the grief there is pride because the blood of their husbands, sons, fathers, brothers, and sisters has mingled with the sacred sea and sky of the Fatherland.

We visited the family of martyr Phan Huy Son on a scorching hot day, the sun painting the recently harvested fields of Dien Nguyen (Dien Chau) in golden hues. It was past noon, but Mrs. Tran Thi Ninh, the wife of martyr Phan Huy Son, was still busy planting rice to finish the summer-autumn crop. Hearing us call out, the woman, whose face was tanned dark by the sun and wind, stopped what she was doing and sat down to chat right there on the edge of the field.

Speaking of her husband, who sacrificed his life to protect the sovereignty of their homeland's seas and islands, she teared up. She and the fallen soldier Phan Huy Sơn were from the same village, and they fell in love. After finishing high school, they got married in 1981. They hadn't been married long when, in early February 1982, Sơn enlisted in the Navy. After completing his medical training, he was deployed to Song Tử Tây Island in the Trường Sa archipelago. During his first leave after two years of service, they had a son, Phan Huy Hà. Needless to say, the young father on the remote island was overjoyed to receive a letter from his beloved wife back home informing him of his impending fatherhood. His comrades shared his joy, and even the waves seemed to rejoice with the sailor.

However, their joy was short-lived when their firstborn son, Phan Huy Ha, was born with a congenital defect, his brain not developing normally. Despite this, they encouraged each other to shower their son with love and care. Mr. Son's second leave was after the Lunar New Year in 1988. Normally, his leave lasted 15 days, but after just over a week, he hastily left after receiving an urgent telegram from his unit. This departure meant no return, as he perished in the waters of his homeland after the unequal naval battle with China on March 14, 1988.

When her husband left, Ms. Ninh was pregnant with her second child – her daughter, Phan Thuy Trang, was born without ever knowing her father, but always proud of the sacrifice he made to protect the country's sovereignty. When she received Mr. Son's death notice, Ms. Ninh was devastated. A young woman, only 25 years old, with a disabled child and another still in her womb. But out of love for her children and her husband, she gritted her teeth and overcame everything. She recounted that some people advised her to remarry, but she ignored them because if her husband left to remarry, what would become of her children, especially her son Ha – now almost 30 years old, he still cannot take care of himself; his mother takes care of all his personal hygiene and meals. Occasionally, he has a breakdown, screaming, breaking things, and wandering away, causing Ms. Ninh to frantically search for him, her pants rolled up and down.

For the past 26 years, Ms. Ninh has single-handedly toiled, cultivating 4 acres of rice paddies and raising pigs and chickens to support her children. She told herself she had to be strong and resilient to be a pillar of support for her children. Only at night did her tears flow, filled with longing for her husband. In her memory, she forever cherishes the image of her careful, thoughtful husband, who loved his wife and children wholeheartedly. Before his sacrifice, he sent letters home, giving instructions to his wife and children, and sending gifts to each member of the family.

During the most difficult times, Ms. Ninh would take out the letter her husband, Mr. Son, wrote before his sacrifice and read it. Even though she had read it thousands of times, each time she saw the familiar handwriting of her beloved husband on the yellowed pages, she would cry. She remembered every word of the letter vividly: “Ninh, my dear! It’s been several days since I left you and our child. My heart aches for you and our child. May you have a safe journey. I am preparing to go to an island, but I don’t know which one yet. Before I leave, I wish you and our child good health, peace of mind, and happiness…”

The consolation for Ms. Tran Thi Ninh and her children is that every year, her husband's comrades still remember them and send gifts to inquire about their well-being. The house they currently live in was built with funding from the Naval Command and the help of relatives and friends. Despite the difficulties, she still tries her best to take good care of her disabled son and ensure her daughter receives an education. Her daughter, Phan Thuy Trang, who was studying at the Pedagogical University, has decided to drop out and study medicine so she can take care of her mother and brother's health… After saying goodbye to us, Ms. Ninh diligently continued planting rice seedlings through the midday heat to keep up with the harvest season. She said that everyone is busy during harvest time, and she doesn't want to bother anyone…

Leaving the rural area of ​​Dien Nguyen, we made our way to the small house of the family of martyr Dau Xuan Tu in Truong Son hamlet, Nghi Yen commune, Nghi Loc district. In the sweltering heat of a June day, the mother, with failing eyesight and hearing, sat swaying in a hammock, her cloudy eyes gazing into the distance. After asking, "Is this the house of martyr Dau Xuan Tu, who died on Gac Ma Island?", she replied, "Yes, but I can't see anything now, and my hearing is failing. Please come upstairs to visit..." We waited a long time before finally meeting the woman in her forties, the one the mother had instructed us to ask when Tu's sister-in-law returned. I don't remember the exact year he died, I only know that they came to deliver the death notice that day, and it was very cold.

Ms. Phan Thi Luong, the youngest daughter-in-law of the family, recounted that back then, she was a teenager, and everyone in the village talked about the heroic sacrifice of her brother, Mr. Tu, in defending the sovereignty of the sea and islands. Partly out of admiration, despite knowing her family's difficult circumstances, she agreed to marry Mr. Dau Xuan Chuong, Mr. Tu's younger brother. She said: “Every time journalists or uncles and aunts from Mr. Tu's unit came to visit, my parents-in-law would tear up, remembering their son. “Tu was gentle, quiet, and full of determination. He was already a Party member, so why hasn't he come home after his three years of service?” She said that Mr. Tu's sacrifice was a great pain and loss for the family, but above all, it was a source of pride knowing that he and his comrades sacrificed themselves to their last breath to guard the sacred sea and islands of the Fatherland.

Before Tư's death, the family also bore the pain of losing their nephew, Đậu Xuân Chân, a martyr who died on the southern front in 1975. A few years after Tư's death, his eldest brother also died in a train accident. At times, the grandparents felt like giving up, but the constant worry about their son's remains still somewhere out at sea motivated them to continue living, waiting, and hoping. And then, in 2009, that hope became a reality. The family received the remains of martyr Đậu Xuân Tư after more than 20 years lying in the sunken ship HQ 604 at sea. Because the commune did not have a martyrs' cemetery and the parents were elderly and frail, the family decided to place the martyr Đậu Văn Tư's grave in the cemetery where their family and lineage had ancestral worship, for convenience in offering incense and tending to the remains.

(To be continued)

Thanh Nga - Khanh Ly