N E P t u n e: Dang Thuy Tram Diary

May 4th, 1968

Sat, 23 Dec 2006 14:29:48 GMT

I broke off the story by the quietness. In the dark, I still recognized the worry of two patients who were talking to me. Perhaps, they saw that wet of tears quietness of me. They love me honestly and closely but the more they talked, the more I felt wretched. They asked me why I don't struggle for political interest, why I am worthy of being a Party member but the Party cell don't admit me. Why, why and why? No body can answer that, my two dear friends. Actually, I can't answer. My heavy quietness also show you about that standstill. Almost everyone says: "Tram is worthy of being a Communist" but still not fit to be in that position. Not because I am not interested in but the more I am interested in, the more I fell wretched.

So sad these days; day by day, the letters, the words, the actions showing love are still coming to me. But those love are the fire which lights a dry firewood stack. Why everyone has deep affection for me, admires me but the Communist party is strict and mean to me?

May 1st, 1968

Sat, 23 Dec 2006 14:29:38 GMT

One more time have international employee day in the forest, that was a quiet day, long and deep in nostalgia day. Miss Hanoi, miss daddy, mommy, brothers and sisters so much. Just fall into sleep in the forest, I dreamed meeting mom and brothers and sisters again in that house at the public health officer school; still that small street, still that gate of Mr. Nghiep's house, I crept through the broken door railings to be spontaneous outside as in the childhood. Have been away from home for more than one year, is this the last year being far away? Suddenly, I think of the days ... (can't read clearly) fun and hopeful, ... now!... Let be as at that time, Light the cheer of the winner! The rising up in arms song is still resounding, "Take to the streets, take to the streets... although have to sacrifice, we don't worry, bring the administration to people".

April 30th, 1968

Sun, 10 Dec 2006 10:03:33 GMT

Still sad, Thuy? Some emergency cases supposed can't be able to be alive but getting better today, don't the smiles on the faces which are still green because of losing blood make Thuy happy? But still feel sad. The sadness is absorbed in my heart as the raindrop are absorbed deeply under the ground of the hard raining days. Want to find the unprejudiced pleasures but can not, my mind has already had the trace of thinking, there is no way to clear them. But if there is, that would be treating for wounded soldiers and develop well the policlinic. Why I was born as a girl who is rich in dream and love and claims for so many things from this life?

My situation at the moment is the dream of many other people: a warm and adequate family, myself, I have had good opportunities to make progress, work is appropriate to my ability, pampered... So, do I claim too many things? Answer it, obstinate and fastidious Thuy!

April 26th, 1968

Sat, 02 Dec 2006 14:27:43 GMT

Received a letter from H8 when he is back, not the letter of M., it is brother Tam's. Read the letter, I just feel so sad. The elapsed days had backed into the past for a long time and far away, start them up again for what, brother Tam? You love me but unintentionally, you made me wretched. You informed me that M. is very sick; you said you are with me, you love me but in fact, you don't understand anything about me? Haven't you really understood the self-love of a girl who is descended from pupil class like me? If you have, it would be better if you told me about the necessary things at the moment like well working, well being vigilant. That's all!

April 25th, 1968

Sat, 02 Dec 2006 14:25:50 GMT

Still the sad news; on the way from the provincial school back, the officer group of Duc Pho were attacked by surprise by the enemies. Heard that some have laid down their lives. Nghia was in the group too; don't know if he is still fine or not. He is self-motivated and brave so he might take the lead to pave the way. My brother! If there is something wrong with you, I will not know what to say. I will cry many days without you or tears will dry and become the feud fire burning in my heart? I have been waiting for you to come to see me these days, now...!

April 23rd, 1968

Sat, 02 Dec 2006 12:36:29 GMT

An extra hard working day. Three seriously injured cases at the same time. Standing next to the operating-table for the whole day, my mind was so stressful because of the wounds, because of the heart rending cry of uncle Cong (Huong's father) and because of the repeated sad news.

Duong was taken alive on the way for his assignment. I don't know if that ebullient and enthusiasm boy can stand the tortures of the enemies. Love Duong so much. The letter written for Duong might not arrive. The letter holder has died and the letter receiver has been taken alive!!! A sad singing voice from somewhere far-away sounds next to my ears "The mother's heart is infinite like the overflowing Pacific Ocean. The melodious lullaby is like a sweet, gentle stream". The singing of Duong that night or the anguished moan of Duong in dark jail while he's thinking of his old mother who raised the son all her life and put all of her pleasure and hopes in that pet?

Many mothers like Duong's mother will still be wretched and bewail until their tears are exhausted. Alas, if I lay down, my mom will be like that mother too, will be a mother sacrifices the whole life for the children and then feels great anguish because the children lay down at the fire and sword battlefield too. Mom! what could I say when I love you so much but I have to be far away from you. The enemies are still there, many mothers are still lossing their children, many husbands are lossing their wives. So anguished!

April 22nd, 1968

Sat, 02 Dec 2006 06:37:53 GMT

Huong! Have you died already? I heard that, I am so stunned like in a nightmare. When this pain is stopped? today, a person lays down; tomorrow, another one lay down. Bone and blood have piled high as a hatred mountain in front of us. When! When and when, my comrades? When will we can expel all that gang who drink human blood without feeling fishy smell from our country?

That is over, the nights confiding together will never happen again. I will never hear Huong's deep and sentimental voice next to my ears, never hear Huong encourages me and sings the praises of my faithful sentiment anymore. That is over, the days having a swim together in the stream, eating sweet soup together. I suddenly remember the day I met Huong on the side of the stream in Nghia Hanh, Huong was holding me and kissing on my hairs, kissing my cheeks and both were having tears welling up.

Saw uncle Cong was still uneventful and had not known anything about that thunderbolt news, I felt so unhappy as someone was rubbing salt into my wounds. Lossing a daughter like Huong is much more painful than lossing a part of intestine. Uncle, if you know this news, please repress your heart-breaking feeling! And brother Quang, the man who was waiting patiently for Huong for the past years would never have what he has dreamed. Your Huong has laid down on your motherland forever.

April 17th, 1968

Fri, 01 Dec 2006 09:15:05 GMT

Said goodbye to brother Ky and sister Phuong. Living together for one year, today I understood all the love from those close people.

It's very late after the party, brother Ky came to my room. We both did not know what to talk to each other, the notebook is placed in front of him, holding the pen but the words under his nib are meaningless. Just few time left, he needs to say and write the important things; but why he still keeps silent? You want to talk to me by the red eyes because of staying up late many nights, by the gloomy smile on the skinny face, don't you? He holded me by his pair of fragile arms, that action is very normal with him but today, why that made me moved so much. Saw him to the stream, I was haggard and walked back and I saw a piece of paper he sent Lien. Some short words he wrote, he said in it: "You and Tram have to love each other honestly. Tram came here, far away from family, just has friends..." Brother Ky! Thank you, I will never forget your love to me!

And the last night laying in the arm of sister Phuong, listened to the advices, I was quiet and did not say a thing; the warm tears were running on my face and fell on her face. Sister, I have not ben a party member until now, that's so sad.

April ..., 1968

Thu, 30 Nov 2006 06:52:53 GMT

The quiet atmosphere of lunch time covered the whole forest. Heard that San is sick, I came to visit. The whole room were sleeping including the patient that I came to visit. Did not want to awake San, I tiptoed out but San's gentle groan made me come back. He smiled ...(too blear, can't read). He is not really sick but perhaps he wants to see me. I was busy for the whole day. The story was not about his sickness but he asked me: "Today is the day you came to Duc Pho, isn't it?"

- Just a full year, San!

I answered with surprisingness at his question. I wanted to be with San, talk about the whole last year, a year of hard and strenuous fighting but very proud on San's motherland, but I felt hard to say. What I have done have no meaning in comparison with what San has done, with everyone in Duc Pho who have struggled for 20 years. Talking to San about missing family in the "far away from home" days is more unreasonable. San has only one old mother left. San's father died when his mother was 22; that young wife sacrificed her whole youth for feeding San until San was 19 and he joined the army. In the past 5 years, lot of danger but San is still alive; just one month ago, the enemies attacked by surprise his place, San escaped from the clutches of the enemies. 15 of his comrades laid down. Just a little more, not really different, San would be laid down at the foot of that Cua mountain too. And then, San's mother would nerver have a son like San eventhough she has cried until her tears become exhausted. However, San came here with me today; it's unlikely that I let the Death comes to take away a lovely son of a mother who is worried about that only son. Never! I will have to try my best for San as well as for other patients! That is the pride of a doctor, isn't that?

***

Received presents from Van. Love Van so much. Her life has kinds of bitterness, the bitterness that a person like Van oughtn't to have never standed. Van lives with altruism, hopes and sentiment. Have to requite those things for Van. Why this life always gives Van all misfortune? I saw that and I have to have my responsibility. Have to bring Van pleasure and faith by the specific actions.

April 14th, 1968

Mon, 27 Nov 2006 15:47:21 GMT

A poem was made for me, the poem of a wounded soldier in the hospital, from love and admiration to a doctor who has taken care him and other patients carefully. He found out carefully about me and wrote the poem for me. The poem is full of heartfelt love and unhappy to my broken love, He speaked up the sad and bitter words of a girl who is betrayed her trust by her boyfriend.

Reading the poem... I felt so sad, I could not dominate myself and I wrote a sentence at the bottom of the poem: "Thank you for your love but perhaps you have not been with Tram. I promise to you that I will let you understand a socialist girl somewhen some time." and I gave the poem back.

Alas! This is the sadest thing in the relationship with M.. Everyone blames M., takes pity on me but I feel so unhappy when people love me with the sense of mercy which includes the compassionateness. Although brother Thiet, Hao, Nghinh... or anyone love me and share weal and woe with me, I still don't want. Only me is enough to solve the difficulty, only me is strong enough to bury that 9 years loving and hoping deeply under the ground; my spirit land is still fat, good enough to seed on it a pretty flower season. Dear eveybody, no need to irrigate that land with the sorry tears. Sweet-smelling flowers must be watered by fresh water.

Each day passed, my love to M. has became flat and the reproach has became bigger and bigger. I have been removed from that friend. He is not fit with me?

April 13th, 1968

Sun, 26 Nov 2006 13:17:07 GMT

Letters from everywhere. Thank you everyone for giving me all the eager love. Reading the letters, pleasures and sadness merged into each other. Why could everyone give me that love when one person - a person who had a pure and heartfelt love is not fit to be with me? How sad, M. (M is the abbreviation of the name of Dang Thuy Tram's boyfriend). I want to use love that everyone gives me to fill up the empty space of my soul but I can't. My heart is still jumping stubbornly with the tempo of the age of 20 which is full of hope and love. Be calm with the quiet tempo of see surface in the windless afternoons, my heart!

April 12th, 1968

Sun, 26 Nov 2006 13:16:48 GMT

Evening forest after a rain, the leaves looked verdant in the sunshine, light and thin like the hand of a girl who is confined to the house.

The atmosphere was quiet and sad strangely. The whole building for the patient was quite; from the staff ward, only heard Huong was talking in murmurs with someone. An immense nostalgia covered my mind. Miss who? Miss dad, miss mom, miss people who have just left... and also miss a patient who is waiting for me to come with him. Inside the lonely nostalgia, perhaps, there is a deep sadness, quiet but so heavy. However, the heart wound is still blooding despite I am trying to use work and the nostalgia to the other things to weigh down on it; it is still rising up; very unhappy. Forget it Thuy! (Dang Thuy Tram calls herself Thuy). Forget it to find a new hope that is cleaner and more verdant. Take the pride to forget the disappointment. That person is not worthy of your pure and faithful love, Thuy.

Hey my dear people in this Duc Pho countryside, is there anyone who understand me and sympathize with my sentiment? The sentiment of a girl full of dream, of hopes that are not replied appropriately.

April 10th, 1968

Sat, 25 Nov 2006 13:58:27 GMT

So, you set off this afternoon and left the immense nostalgia for everyone in this deserted forest. You left already but your silhouette are still recorded here: the streets, the beautiful seats, the lovely poems. Tuan gives an order: "Take the knapsack, ready to go!". The awkward knapsacks which are made by American wrapping were tidy on their shoulders; they still lingered to shake my hand and say goodbye to me the last time. Suddenly, the strange nostalgia to the North was overflowing in my mind, like water of a river in the flooding days and... I cried so hard to such an extent that I could not reply the goodbye of everybody. Now then, let go, see you all some day in the dear North.

All one day and one night worried about San's operation, this afternoon, I was so happy when I saw San could sit up. His face is still imprinted by paintfulness, tiredness but his reluctant smile was on his lip. His hand gently holded my hand with his love and trust. Hey the young, brave wounded soldier, I love you with the huge and deep love of a doctor to the patient, the love of an older sister for her sick younger brother (actually, San and me are at the same age) and that love is more special to everyone when it goes with the admiration.

Do you see that in my worried look? Do you see my hand softly laid on your wound, your thin arms? Wish San will be well again soon to get back his fighting staff, get back with his old mother who is looking forward to seeing him every hour, every minute.

April 8th, 1968

Sat, 25 Nov 2006 09:25:24 GMT

An appendix case in the situation of deprivation. Reliever is just few Novocaine tubes but the young wounded soldier did not scream. He was still smiling with me to encourage me. Looking at his reluctant smile on the dry lip because of tiredness, I love him so much. Too bad that the infection in the stomach isn't caused by appendix break. Searching for more almost half an hour, did not find the reason, I closed it, placed the duct and left some antibiotic in the stomach. The anxiousness of a doctor plus the commiseration and love and admiration to that wounded soldier make me worry. Stroking lightly his hair, I want to tell him: with people like you that I can't cure, that is a fadeless anguish in the serving life of a doctor.

Volume one - 1968

Sat, 25 Nov 2006 09:24:59 GMT

Stories of the hearts (continued)

Fri, 24 Nov 2006 02:35:43 GMT

Robert Whitehurst is a veteran in Vietnam too but he has never been in the south central part battlefield. Two years working in Cuu Long Delta makes him love this area as well as the Vietnamese friendly, mild and soulful people. Vietnam became a part of his life because he married with a girl from Long Xuyen. He has learned Vietnamese, likes Vietnamese food, likes bringing Vietnamese plants back the America to grow; even he had tried to send a sampan to the US to help his wife not feel homesick.

Rob read the diary of doctor Dang Thuy Tram after back home from Vietnam in 1972. At first, the diary made him thunderstruck. With help from his wife, he had read the diary again and again. The more he read, the more he was moved by what had been happened in the soul of a girl who was at the opposite fighting line. He wrote to my mother: "Anyone whom I showed the diary was very moved by what she had written. We think she does not only a hero of someone, that means although her memory is very important to you as well as to us, her career is more meaningful to everyone. Her lines has a wonderful appeal. Although she was at the opposite fighting line in the war between us, Fred and I felt admiring and respected for her and believed she is a good person, at the beginning of the 1970s. Hope that after reading the lines written in the past, you would agree with us that in a sense, she is of your own family but in an important sense, she is of all of us" (letter on April 29th, 2005).

Rob was looking for everywhere, read about Hanoi to make the imformation in the diary clearer. He knows Chu Van An is the name of a school. He recognizes Lo Duc street in the old area of Hanoi. He recognizes the name Ho Tay. But did not find anything related to doctor Dang Ngoc Khue's family. The lines full of shame in the face of giving up cases of curing the patient made Rob recognize the image of a doctor with the Hypocrate oath in mind. The poems she wrote in an afternoon standing on the top of a mountain made Rob recognize a heart was stirred by the beauty. An intellectual Hanoian girl was appearing clearer and clearer in his mind. The more he read, the more he wish to make everyone knows about her. He wrote to my mother: "When she left Hanoi to throw herself in danger spot of the war, Thuy did not know how war is. More than 30 years living in Duc Pho, what she had written in the diary was changing, she was grown-up. The things she had learned consolidated the determination which had been brought up by the family since she was very young. She had learned the things we all need to learn... The experience about honour, the experience about compassion and the experience that she showed an example about love to everyone, about the beauty and about people. I know Thuy was not going to write for the whole world, but maybe because of that, her belief from the very deep place in her heart was written down honestly and naturally; and I saw she had enough braveness to follow that belief in the last hardship... Until the moment, I am the person who read that diary again and again many many times. Once, I have told you and now I would like to repeat that I don't think there is anything in the diary that could make you or anyone feel awkward. Her expression about love as well as her appeal for being directed towards family would make anyone being really moved when reading over. The number of her battle and her care to the wounded soldiers makes us being mediocre..." (letter on May 28th, 2005).

And then, Rob found on the internet the Vietnam Centre of Texas Tech University and knew that people have yearly workshop on Vietnam war there. There were many people at the workshop: scholars, ambassadors, generals, veterans in both the North and the South of Vietnam. Robert encouraged Fred in coming to the workshop and talking about the diary of the doctor. The workshop happened as I told you at first. In the profound being moved, Fred and Rob gave the CDs of the copy of my sister's diary to many people and they hoped as a nice legend, the diary would be back its home, back with the family of the doctor whom they respect as a hero.

***

Thank you, Frederic Whitehurst, the person who had kept the diary of "an enemy", had tried to read it, had conserved it when his country was still hostile to Vietcong and had tried all the best to bring it back to my mother.

Thank you sergeant-major Nguyen Trung Hieu, the person who rescued my sister's diary from being burned when he recognized there is fire in it already. Mr. Hieu, where are you now? If you could read these words, please raise your voice, to let us see you, to let us talk to you by the voice of love and peace.

And you too, Robert Whitehurst. Thank you the American veteran who had written to my the words from the bottom of his heart: "Thuy's words is like a bridge across the river of indifference, bitterness, sadness and mistaken belief which split our two nations for too long..."

Yes, I have persuaded my mother to agree to print this book although since then, my mother has not dared to read the bloody words which were written by her dear daughter 35 years ago the second time. My mother also believes that it would be the bridge connects the past up to present and to the future...

Dang Kim Tram

Stories of the hearts (continued)

Thu, 23 Nov 2006 05:19:03 GMT

Frederic Whitehurst (Fred) is an American military officer who participated Duc Pho battlefield in Quang Ngai from 1969 to 1971. In the war, Fred's duty is collecting valuable information and documents to analyse and find the vestiges of Vietcong and plan to attack by surprise or to mop up. With that duty, Fred could have a close-up of the war and saw the terrible losses with his own eyes both of Vietnam and America. Fred had seen "the whole small Nhon Phuoc village, in the western area of Duc Pho was bombed frightfully and nobody survived" (letter on June 4th, 2005). Fred had seen the kids in Chu Lai were burned by napalm bomb. Fred had seen his lieutenant nearly lost his mind because he could not stand when the American medical workers "easily cut off an arm or a leg of someone and join them into their friends' dead bodies and put into the coffin and send back the US" (letter on June 4th, 2005). Those things had obsessed Fred for years since he left Vietnam for home.

But from those violent days, Fred had seen the war from a completely different light.

In an attack by surprise on a base of Vietcong, after the sound of gunshots calmed down, Fred's army unit advanced and found out it was a small hospital. There were many tents and rooms, they are sick-rooms and there also was a poor operating room. Seems like everyone in the hospital had left in hurry before the American came and not to bring the documents with them in time.

It is laid down that all documents which were gained from the enemies are sent to the military intelligence division to do research. That day, Fred gained so many documents. Together with a Vietnamese translator, Fred chose the valuable documents and threw the others into the fire to burn them.

Fred was burning the documents, Master sergeant Nguyen Trung Hieu, the translator holded a small notebook and came closer to Fred and said: "Fred, don't burn this one. It had fire already in itself." Fred had not known what the book is, but Hieu's touched look and adversary respect effected him strongly; Fred put the book into his pocket.

Nights later, Fred and Hieu read the book together. It is a diary of a Vietcong who is the head, doctor of the small hospital that Fred's unit had fighted. The sloping handwriting is very womanliness. He was more curious when Hieu told him that female doctor is still very young, only 26 and from Hanoi coming to Duc Pho to work for almost 2 years.

And then, as a destiny, few months later, Fred received the second diary of the female doctor from Nguyen Trung Hieu took back. The burning lines made Fred very moved although he only heard that from the hurried translation of Nguyen Trung Hieu and they are the lines with lot of hatred for the American army. The lines with love anf hope made him very surprised. He doesn't know from where a girl could see the beauty of blue in a battlefield full of dark and bomb. Why could she hear the fond symphony while the American always followed hard on her heels.

In 1972, Fred left Vietnam for the US. In his baggage, there were the heavy souvenirs of the war: the two diaries of the female doctor, more than 20 pictures on people in Quang Ngai from the Canon camera which was shot next to the dead body of a Vietcong journalist, a small chisel next to the dead body of an old carpenter who was killed. And since then, Vietnam had became the obsession in his mind.

Time had passed, with the obsession about the war and crime that he had seen with his own eyes, Fred had turned his back on the bad, not accepted the bad. He has done many good things, had ever sued FBI and the director of FBI and also the American government for the wrong things and he won all of them in a famous lawsuit in America as well as in the world. I will talk more about him later.

Fred's mother is a teacher and a painter. When Fred showed her the diary, she said that her son needs to be careful because those two diaries could burn his life.

Indeed, Fred's heart was always being burned by the fire from those two small and smeared notebooks. He had never slept well, always concerned himself about doing something for that doctor. Is she still alive or dead already? If dead, did she die by a wonderful way as she lived a wonderful life that he read in the diary? Where is the doctor's family? Does her mother know that she has a heroic daughter?

Fred had tried looking for the doctor's family many times. From the diary, he knew she graduated at Hanoi University of Medicine so he looked for anything about that university with the hope that finding something. He met two famous professors: Dang Van Chung and Dang Van Ngu. He knew her name is Dang Thuy Tram; maybe they are all in Dang family. He knew her mother is Doan Ngoc Tram but her address is just an enigmatic chain of number at the end of the diary. He knew her father is doctor Dang Ngoc Khue, director of a hospital that is not far away from Hanoi. He guessed that is a private hospital of her family. He knew her home is at a small town calls Lo Duc. But he also knew Hanoi was bombed during the war. Who knows if all her family were dead in a bomb fight? He had asked many people but in the years after the war, finding someone in Vietnam is unable to do to him. Until few years ago, there was a friend contacted her relatives in Hanoi and told him that doctor Dang Thuy Tram's family are still alive. But don't understand why that person did not want to find more and he told him don't talk more about her diary anymore.

***

(To be continued)

Stories of the hearts

Wed, 22 Nov 2006 09:06:36 GMT

By Dang Kim Tram (Dang Thuy Tram's sister).

In the morning on April 25th, 2005, I got an unexpected phone. That is the phone from Quaker office (Quaker is an American humanity organization) in Hanoi. The officer announced there is an American who is keeping the diary of my older sister, our revolutionary martyr, doctor Dang Thuy Tram.

My sister passed away in 1970 at Quang Ngai battlefield. The dedication of my sister was written simply in the record of the Resistance War Medal level 2 posthumous award of my sister: Doctor, passed away at the battlefield. Work duration: 5 years, 3 months, 5 days.

The souvenir of my sister which were sent back home by her comrades are only some pictures, some letters from family in the North. They also said that my sister did have a diary, that is my sister's habit when she was young, but the diary was taken away by the enemies in a raid.

***

In the middle week of March, 2005, a yearly workshop about Vietnam war was organized at Vietnam Centre - Texas Tech University, USA. Many people came. At the workshop, people discussed about Vietnam war at many different respects. Frederic Whitehurst and Robert Whitehurst came there with their speak about a diary of a Vietcong female doctor which Frederic got when he participated the war in Vietnam. The event catched the listener's attention through the moved speak of Fred about the process since he had to diary until he decided to give it to the Vietnam Archive in Lubbock as well as the pages of the diary which are full of love and aspire to peace were translated into English by Robert. The workshop was over, people gave a lot of questions, many of them expressed a wish to help Fred to find the doctor's family.

Ted Engelmann is one of people who was at the workshop. 3 days after the workshop was over, Ted came to Vietnam. In Hanoi, he had asked a friend who works at Quaker office in Hanoi to find doctor Dang Ngoc Khue's family for him. Staffs there are very enthusiastic, followed a few information in the diary, they looked for in Dong Anh where my father worked for almost 20 years ago. But the only person who worked at the same time with my father had already retired since 2000. Some people of Dong Anh hospital had gone to his countryside to ask the address of my family. He pointed to Hanoi University of Pharmacy, where my mother worked before she retired. Like that, many kind hearts helped Ted to find my family finally and he gave us the CD with the confidentiality of the diary writer 35 years ago.

In the next days, I received many letters from two brothers Frederic Whitehurst and Robert Whitehurst. They talked about the time in Vietnam and the process how they were looking for my family. Sometimes, they were supposed they would never find my family, were afraid that they had died, the two diaries of my sister would be in a heap of paper that no one know. They told me that because they did not have any hope to find my family, they were going to print those two diaries into books to let the whole world know about how a Hanoian female doctor lived and died. They hoped from the books, my sister's medical career will be continued... And in the hopelessness like that, they decided to give the diaries to the Vietnam Archive in Texas Tech University, Lubbock to keep them better than they could do.

Following is the first letter that Fred sent me.

"Friday, April 29th, 2005.

I am Frederic Whitehurst. I have kept the memory of your sister, doctor Dang Thuy Tram for 35 years. I have kept her diary for 35 years. Ted Engelmann, the person that I have just known, told me that he had came to your house and you have already received the copy of the diary and the pictures at the moment. There are many things I have to talk to you, to your family and especially to your mother. After many years looking for, this is like a dream and finding your family made me bursted into tears. A mother needs to know about the days of her daughter, a country needs to know about a hero like doctor Dang. Everything seems like suitable, your mother needsto receive her daughter's writing at the time celebrating 30 years liberation of her country - April 30th, 1975..."

***

(To be continued)

Introduction

Wed, 22 Nov 2006 08:59:38 GMT

Revolutionary martyr, doctor Dang Thuy Tram was born on November 26th, 1942 in an intellectual family. Her father is doctor Dang Ngoc Khue, her mother is pharmacist Doan Ngoc Tram, former lecturer of Hanoi University of Pharmacy.

Graduated at Hanoi University of Medicine in 1966, Thuy Tram volunteered to go to work at the B battlefield. After 3 months moving from the North, in March 1967, she arrived Quang Ngai and was assigned a task to work at the hospital of Duc Pho district, a civil hospital but was used for wounded and sick soldiers mainly.

She was admitted to the Communist party on September 27th, 1968.

On June 22nd, 1970, on the way moving for work from the mountain area Ba To to the delta area, she was shot dead by the enemies and laid down heroically when she was almost 28 years old, 2 years party seniority and 3 years work seniority.

Her remains was buried by the local people at the place she laid dowm. After the liberation day, her family and friends brought her to the martyrs' cemetery of Pho Cuong commune. In 1990, her family brought her to the martyrs' cemetery of Xuan Phuong commune, Tu Liem district in Hanoi.

We would like to introduce the two diaries of revolutionary martyr Dang Thuy Tram which was written during the war time. These two diaries have their own strange destiny. They fell into the hads of the conscientious people from the opposite fighting line and they were kept for long time and tried all the best to bring back their owner's family. After more than one third century, at the time Vietnam was celebrating 30 years liberation of the South of Vietnam (April 30th, 2005) the diaries came back with her family. Now, the diaries were kept at the Vietnam Archive in Lubbock, Texas, USA.

Related to the diary

Wed, 22 Nov 2006 08:58:28 GMT

"I am Frederic Whitehurst. I have kept the memory of your sister, doctor Dang Thuy Tram for 35 years. I have kept her diary for 35 years... After many years looking for, this is like a dream and finding your family made me burst into tears..." Those sentences above which were written for a younger sister of revolutionary martyr Dang Thuy Tram on April 29th, 2005 had half-opened one of the strange and most moved stories in the war time: an American soldier, after 35 years of war time, still kept the two diaries of "an enemy" and always tried to find the address of that dead person's family to give them back... And he did it after 35 years trying his best. That is the diary of Dang Thuy Tram; the diary with its strangest destiny, the diary that a resolute, faithful, bright and holy Hanoian girl had written with lot of happiness, sadness, bitterness, painfulness and tears; the diary that the 27 years old girl poured into it her tormented homesick and her broken-hearted pain when her dear comrades passed away everyday; the uncompleted diary that she was writing and the next two days, she was shot dead by the enemies. That is the diary of Dang Thuy Tram; the diary that the American soldier decided to keep it, he did not burn it because according to a pupet soldier (who was a translator) that "there is fire in it already".

Now, let the fire in the diary of Dang Thuy Tram burns forever...

"I know Thuy (means Dang Thuy Tram) was not going to write for the whole world, but maybe because of that, her belief from the very deep place in her heart was written down honestly and naturally... Until the moment, I am the person who read that diary again and again many many times... Her expression about love as well as her appeal for being directed towards family would make anyone being really moved when reading over... Thuy's words is like a bridge across the river of indifference, bitterness, sadness and mistaken belief which split our two nations for too long..."

Robert Whitehurst

An American veteran in Vietnam

"Dear Mrs. Tram...

Your daughter had fought alone with 120 American soldiersto protect her friends. In any country in the world, that is called hero... When I don't work on my job as a lawyer or a scientist, I am a gardener. While I work in my garden, taking care my flowers, I could think of things like that for thousands hours. Yesterday, my thought of Thuy Tram were flooding in my mind... Thuy Tram is the person as I thought. She died as I imagined through the story of me and that soldier many years ago. And now, I already knew. And bursted into tears to know."

(Extracted from the letter for Dang Thuy Tram's mother on May 2nd, 2005)

Frederic Whitehurst

An American veteran, who had kept the diary for more than 35 years

The Diary of Dang Thuy Tram

Wed, 22 Nov 2006 08:49:16 GMT

It is a book, a diary of a Vietnamese revolutionary martyr.

It is a fever when it was published.

And it is a good example for the young generation in Vietnam.

Read it...

Felt it...

Learned it...

And now, trying to translate it to share with all of you...