10 years of suffering the injustice of the wife of the Saigon ranger

Mrs. Thiep (real name Dang Thi Tuyet Mai) was born in 1944 in a “communist” family. Her father used to be the head of the Quang Ngai provincial police station. When she was 11 years old, her father planned to send her to the North to gather, but at the 17th parallel, partly because the ships were too crowded, partly because she believed that two years later there would be general elections, unifying the country. again.

When the war came, the teenage girl Dang Thi Thiep drifted to Da Lat, learning knitting during the day, and reading at night. Not long after, she was taken back to the war zone, expected to go to the North to go to school. There, she met Ranger Tran Van Lai (also known as Mai Hong Que, alias Nam U.Som). Mr. Lai asked his superiors to let Thiep go to Saigon to study because it was more convenient than venturing across Truong Son to the North.

In 1965, Mrs. Thiep followed Mr. Lai to the city. At the request of the organization, he had to find a house convenient to dig a tunnel to store weapons in preparation for a big battle.

Under the guise of a wealthy contractor, in charge of making furniture for the Independence Palace, Mr. Lai took her to see and bought many houses. House number 287/68-70-72 Nguyen Dinh Chieu (now Tran Quy Cap street, district 3) was the chosen place. The first time I heard him talk to the landlord, using the excuse of “buying a house for a concubine” and pointing it at herself, Mrs. Thiep was startled but did not dare to object because he understood that he needed her to pretend to be a legitimate buyer. as support for revolutionary activities. Two people living together will be less visible, he easily digs tunnels and transports weapons to hide.

After buying a house and digging a tunnel, the two took turns guarding the base. For more than two years, the grandparents hardly slept at night for fear of being watched. Working together, camaraderie and suffering, Mrs. Thiep’s feelings for the ranger gradually blossomed. She calls it grace.

In May 1966, the organization approved for Mr. Lai and Mrs. Thiep to get married and operate in a single line in Saigon.

Two children were born. To continue to play the role of the contractor’s concubine, in the child’s birth certificate, Mrs. Thiep left the father’s name blank. Even when I learned to speak, she taught me to call Mr. Lai by uncle.

Although officially the wife of Mr. Tran Van Lai, in the eyes of her neighbors, she is “a maid who seduces the boss” or “a young girl who snatches her husband”. Neighbors looked at her with disdain. People used the worst words to curse and disparage her. Many times, she was beaten and cursed by the wives of South Vietnamese soldiers, and took her property with the reason that “if you can snatch someone’s husband, I can snatch your stuff”.

“At that time, I had to tell myself, being a child is only in the eyes of the world. They hate that I am playing the role, my husband will be safe, the revolutionary base will be protected,” said Mrs. Thiep.

Tran Vu Binh (the third son) said, once, he was angry because his neighbor’s children called him a bastard, his mother was a concubine, and the brothers and sisters were about to retaliate, but Thiep discovered and beat “the ass. “. “Later, I understood that the times when I stood silently in the corner of the house watching our sisters get angry, she was the one who suffered the most. She suffered all the disadvantages for the sake of protecting her husband and children, protecting the secret of the resistance”, he said. Binh confided.

On the evening of the 1st of Tet 1968, knowing that an attack was imminent on the Independence Palace and the enemy’s General Staff, Mr. Lai forced her and her children to lie on the floor, no matter what happened, they were not allowed to run. Go out, avoid stray bullets. The moment she watched Mr. Lai drive away with two cars full of weapons, she suffocated because she knew he would most likely never return.

All night without sleep, Mrs. Thiep’s eyes kept staring at the front door, hoping to hear her husband opening the door. Receiving news that many of his comrades had died, she hurriedly went to his ex-wife’s altar to burn incense and pray. She believes that, somewhere far away, the deceased woman is waiting with her to wait for him to return.

Three days passed, the owner of a grocery store near the journalist heard that someone had called and sent her a message to listen. “Are you sick?” asked Mr. Lai on the other end of the line. “I’m not sick!” she replied in accordance with their convention. If the child is not sick, it means that the family is still safe, the facility has not been broken. But Mr. Lai was still exposed by the two cars he used to ride often found lying at the scene of the Battle of Independence Palace. He was wanted, so he had to withdraw into secret activities, stay at the house of an acquaintance, and only occasionally return home.

During a trip to Cambodia to try to find a way to reconnect with the organization, Mr. Lai fell into the water and died. Mrs. Thiep looked for medicine and tried to cure him everywhere, but he was getting weaker day by day. “He told me to buy a bag containing the body of an American soldier, if he died, put it in a bag and take it to the cellar and then pour soil over it, wait for the liberation day, then notify the organization,” she said. But luck came, she was told that a famous male doctor in Cho Lon should drain all the money in the house, come to buy him 30 drugs. Mr. Lai was saved.

In the following years, she had to earn money to raise children, support her husband and provide for the war zone on her own. Whenever the unit needs financial support, that woman always brings it to the place on behalf of her husband.

Colonel Tran Minh Son, former deputy commander of the Saigon – Gia Dinh Military Region Command, cum chief of staff of the Saigon Rangers confirmed: “After the Tet Offensive, Mr. Tran Van Lai had to operate in secret. Mai (ie Mrs. Thiep) worked, sent money and medicine to the war zone”.

In 1970 and 1974, Ranger Tran Van Lai was twice captured by the enemy in Quang Ngai. Mrs. Thiep sent her children to neighbors, borrowed money, and collected every silver coin to redeem him. “I told myself I had to be strong not only because I was a mother, but I could have to shoulder the responsibility of a father at any time,” she recalls.

On April 30, 1975, in the line of people cheering for victory, Mrs. Thiep stood silently in a corner. “At that time, I just wanted to scream out loud: I’m not a concubine, I’m not jerking my husband,” she said. For everyone, the joy of April 30 is the end of the war, the day of reunification or reunion, but for her, it is also the day she can take off the label of “little wife” after nearly 10 years of unjust accusations.

Life after 1975 was extremely difficult, the economic burden fell on the shoulders of the wife. She rushes into making money, learning how people grind gotu kola to sell, sell coal, raise pigs… as long as the children can go to school.

During the war, a woman sacrificed her dream of going to school to serve the revolution with her husband. At peace, she put her studies aside to take care of her children. She said: “After liberation, I am 31 years old, I can still apply to go to school to fulfill my childhood dream. But as a mother, I only think for myself, who will make money to raise my children. I chose to let my children go to school, have knowledge, later help society”. Under her burden, 6 children all graduated from university and succeeded in many fields.

“There is one thing that my mother told me all the time, that cadres absolutely must not take a dime from the people. She said, in life, I only want my children to have two things: words, understanding and pure morality, something that my mother and father spent their whole lives preserving”, Mr. Binh confided.

In 2015, Mrs. Thiep refused to submit documents to request the title Hero of the People’s Armed Forces. “My husband and I, as well as our comrades in the past, fought for the sake of the country’s unification, not for any title. I’m satisfied when my children and grandchildren understand and appreciate the sacrifices of our ancestors. That’s enough,” said Mrs. Thiep.

In the afternoon of the last day of April, when she burned incense sticks on the altar of her husband and first wife, Mrs. Thiep stood silent for a long time, her eyes red: “Only those who have lived in wartime understand the value of peace. The price of peace is extremely expensive, with the blood, bones and suffering of so many people.”

Insight