Dzung, Thank you for the article. I wonder what would happen to Duong Thu Huong should she be allowed to leave VN. Would she even want to leave? Would she become disillusioned just as Alexandr Solzhenytsin was? I hope she continues writing. > > From: "Dzung Bach" <dbach@xxxxxxxxxxxx> > Date: 2003/01/21 Tue PM 04:43:36 PST > To: <jjr69@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> > Subject: [jjr69] Vietnam'sWomenOfWar > > Recently there was some discussions of Duong Thu Huong's works on our forum. > I foresee that name sooner or later will be in Vietnam's Literacy Hall of > Fame, or just simply "The Vietnamese Woman" of the last two decades. And > perhaps for many more to come. The reason is plain to see: she is the first > Vietnamese female to mourn the "condition" of her gender after the war, way > back in the 1980s, when biting reality stared back at them in cold, bitter, > and ugly nudity of pauperism. Back then, a Vietnamese opens up his/her heart > and mind to a Western foreigner, or a Viet Kieu, but not to his/her fellow > countrymen nor EastBlock comrades. Fear of K9 police brutal retaliation is > common sense. Duong Thu Huong is an exception. She made it a national issue > through her articles, whose acid wit revolt echoed, as far as I know, through > out Europe, resulting in Mme Mitterand's special intervention when she was > labeled with charges such as running antigovernment propaganda in her > homeland. > > > > To me, the article below (LATimes, January 10th, 2003) should be the fruit of > her labor almost 20 years later, though the author never mentioned DTH's name > in the works. I doubt that she is not present in his hidden works-cited. To > stand against war is a universal surface value. To embrace the notion goes > deep and beyond the time margin. But what do we humans have, other than a > life time, to suffer? > > > > > > Vietnam's Women of War > > > > They answered their country's call and fought the Americans. But when peace > came, their own society cast them aside. > > > > By David Lamb > > Times Staff writer > > > > > > Ninh Binh, Vietnam - They were the girls of war, teenage volunteers who took > up arms in one of the largest female armies any nations have put on a modern > battlefield. For years they fought, sustaining themselves with a dream > central to Vietnamese culture: "When there was peace, they would find a good > husband and bear children." > > > > For many of them, it was not to be. When they came home at the war's end in > 1975, they were perceived as less desirable, as damaged by the disease, > malnutrition and other hardships they had endured in the jungle. Young men, > themselves just back from the war, did not return their glances on the > street. If love bloomed, parents would often cut it short, forbidding their > sons to marry women who appeared too weak to give birth or raise a child. > > > > "How the jungle aged me", said Vu Hoai Thu, one of 500 women of the town of > Ninh Binh, 60 miles south of Hanoi, who fought in what the Vietnamese call > the American war. "Finally, I did find a nice boy. He asked to marry me, but > his parents would not allow it. He did not want to leave me, but I convince > him he must. I was weak from Malaria and malnutrition. I did not think I > would ever be strong enough to give him children". > > > > Women like Thu are in their 50's now, and when they meet to commemorate their > sacrifices, they speak of loosing the springtime of their youth on the Truong > Son road, or the Ho Chi Ming Trail. They talk of coming home to lives that > were tougher than the ones they had left. Bitterness lingers that for many > years they were forgotten as soldiers in a war that made heroes of the men > who fought, but not the women. > > > > "I thought my life after the war would be simple and happy", said Nguyen Thi > Binh, who came home weighing 85 pounds. "But I let my boyfriend go. I told > him that with my diseases, with my wounded leg, I would be a burden on him." > Binh lived on her own for 17 years, a form of exile in a family-oriented > society in which barren women and childless couples are object of pity. Then, > at the urging of her former comrades in a women's brigade, the 559, Binh > "took a husband for a night" and bore a daughter. She and her child, Lan, now > 10, live together on a rice paddy that Binh farms. > > > > "The good people offer understanding and sympathy", Binh said. "And I > appreciate that. But sometimes bad people will bring their children to my > house and say: "Don't be like that woman." But if the "patriotic call went > out" to fight in a future war, Binh said, she would let her daughter march > off to battle, just as she did. "We have a saying in Vietnam," she said, > "that if the enemy comes, even the women must fight." > > > > Vietnam has a long history of women warriors. Two of the country's most > revered heroes are the Trung sisters, Trac and Nhi, who led an insurrection > against China in AD 05 and liberated Vietnam. One of their commanders, Phung > Thi Chinh, is said to have given birth during the battle and to have > continued fighting with her infant strapped to her back. Another woman, Trieu > Au, rode an elephant into battle against the Chinese in AD 248, leading a > force of 3,000. Defeated in battle, she committed suicide at the age of 23. > > > > Military historians estimate that in the 1950's, nearly a million female > guerillas took part in the war against colonial French forces. In the > conflict with the US, 40% of the VietCong regional commanders were women. One > of them, Nguyen Thi Dinh, was a general. Hundreds of thousands of women, most > of them young and single, served in combat zones in that war. They operated > antiaircraft guns, built road under frequent bombardment and went on patrols > in mixed-gender units. "We lived and slept together but did not touch", said > a woman in the 559 Brigade, who attributed the restraint to cultural > conservatism. "I don't know of a single pregnancy in our unit. We thirst for > love, but only in our hearts." > > > > Other women collected intelligence, spied, and ferried troops and supplies > along riverways in small boats. Mai Thi Diem volunteered to fight after the > US bombed the communal farm where she lived , killing 100 people, including > many of her relatives. "I weighed 35 kilos (77 pounds) when I went to enlist, > and the army said I was too small", said Diem, who still walks with a limp, > the result of a land mine injury. "I told them I would throw myself off the > bridge and commit suicide if they didn't take me. Finally, they said OK." Le > Minh Khue, a Hanoi novelist, has written of the powerful bond gorged by the > war effort. I love everyone with a passionate love, wrote Khue, who lied > about her age and joined the army at 15. It was a love, she said, that "only > someone who had stood on that hill in those moments could understand fully. > That was the love of the people in smoke and fire, the people of war." Phan > Thanh Hao, a journalist and co-author of a book on Vietnam's female warriors > , served in the Truong Son Mountains along the HoChiMinh Trail. "Women > tipped the balance toward victory in the war," she said. "Other than the > Soviet Union in WW II, no countries come close to having the number of women > in direct combat roles. Still, it was hard for us to become normal again, For > my generation, our hearts tighten to this day when we hear an airplane > overhead." > > > > The girls of war came home to families that were poor. Having another mouth > to feed was a problem. Emaciated by disease and malnutrition, their skin > weathered by years in the jungle, they were perceived as less attractive than > when they had set out from their villages. In addition, so many young men > were killed during the war that the pool of prospective husbands was reduced. > Even today, there are 97.9 men for every 100 women in Vietnam, one of the > lowest ratio in Southeast Asia. "I was so lucky", said Nguyen Thi Nhong, 51, > a veteran of the 559 Brigade. "I met a young man, very handsome, on Truong > Son. He was from a nearby village and we married. But I know so many other > who fell in love on the battlefield and searched and searched after the war > but could never find each other." > > > > Many of the women recovered their health and married. Others who remained > single went to live in Buddhist pagodas or in government housing projects. In > the early 1980s, in a step to ease their isolation, the government sought to > lift the taboo against bearing children out of wedlock. Unwed mothers and > their children, it was announced, would be considered families and eligible > for a grant of land to grow rice. Thousand of women took "a husband for the > night." > > > > Though recognition has been slow, women are starting to receive credit for > their contributions to the war effort. A Women's Museum opened in Hanoi in > 1995. All schoolchildren now write essays on women's role in the war. A > monument is being built on the banks of the Nhat Le river near the old > demilitarized zone , honoring a woman who ferried men and supplies in her > boat despite bombardment. And the women of the 559 Brigade who went off to > war as teenage volunteers have been given a special medal as "Soldiers of > Truong Son." Three of those soldiers wore their uniforms to a recent reunion > in Ninh Binh. They and half a dozen others gathered at a small restaurant to > honor the 40 comrades who didn't come back from Truong Son and the 50 others > who returned as invalids. > > > > They exchanged small talk and memories, and when lunch was served, the > brigade commander, Tran Thi Binh, stood and announced she wanted to share a > poem she had written , "Young Girl's Time." It was long, and she recited from > memory in a singsong cadence, her eyes closed. > > > > I'd like to burn a simple incense stick for the unlucky girls who died. > > Though they never come back, we who lost our youth keep waiting. > > We are the Truong Son girls, now gray and full of memories, > > Remembering our unfound love partners who have gone far away. > > > > The other women at the table look away. A few buried their faces in their > hands. Several dabbed their eyes with tissues. When Binh finished, there was > an awkward silence. Then someone said, "Let's make this a happy day." > > > Viet Be