THE WOMAN GUERILLA

THANH NGUYÊN

In the spring of 1968, the war entered a deadly phase in Bình Long. Artillery fire destroyed homes and fields and dispersed families.
Thanh fled to a vast rubber plantation but couldn’t find the way out. Exhausted and hungry, she lost consciousness. Two days later, she woke up and discovered she was lying in a place occupied by the North Vietnamese army. Very afraid and shaking, she couldn’t talk. The nurse comforted her.
“You are awake now! Yesterday, our soldiers carried you from the rubber plantation of An Lộc back here. It’s fortunate that you are still alive. Just stay here with us.”
Thanh didn’t know what to say and could only nod her head in silence. With no other option, she decided to follow Thắm’s suggestion.
Living deep in the jungle, Thanh bore the sadness of being away from her family, her church, her beloved school… She became a young and frail guerilla, carrying with her a heavy and cold AK rifle. At first, she felt very desperate and sad. All day she had to listen to and swallow the principles of revolution and liberation for her people; hatred for the capitalist invaders and the traitors who sold her country for their own glory. She was told she must make hard sacrifices to bring about the independence, freedom, and reunification of her country… The image of her church faded with each passing hour and day. Was it true that religion was invented to control people who are weak and naïve? Was God a product of the imagination of the West, similar to the Yellow Emperor in the enticing tales of the East?
Thanh’s bouts with malaria broke her down. Her skin developed an unhealthy pallor and she became so skinny she looked like a skeleton. Her hair fell out gradually, revealing her scalp. She looked pitiful. About once a month, she got a terrible fever that lasted about a week. Medications were practically non existent. The only remedy was putting the jungle’s leaves in boiling water and inhaling the resulting vapors. Her body shook like a tambourine being played on… With her health impaired, she did not have any strength left to think things through, and she resigned herself to letting her fate run its course. All she could do was hope for a better tomorrow, especially a day when she would again see her parents and her siblings.
From 1972 on, the guerillas needed to join the army coming from the North. These newcomers were not yet used to the local people and the new environment. Thanh’s unit was ordered to join the fighting in Phước Long. She and two other fighters were stationed at a S’tiêng village lying along the Bé River. The villagers loved them and took care of them as if they were their relatives. Thanks to that care, Thanh felt as if she was a child back in the embrace of her family. In her leisure time, she played with the children and taught them the Vietnamese language and some revolutionary songs. Responding to that teaching, the kids loved her. They gathered bamboo shoots, mushrooms and leaves from the jungle to supply the guerillas with food. From time to time, they organized hunting parties to hunt for field rats and wild rabbits, and brought them to the guerillas to feast on.
Eventually, the South Vietnamese troops stationed at their outposts came to look for them and invaded the villages to capture the guerillas. Frightened, the villagers fled deep into the jungle. The guerillas retreated in silence in order to avoid casualties, but they received orders to fight back.
One night, Thanh was under an order to ambush the home of Huy, a well-known sergeant belonging to the people’s fighters of the region.
Gripping the AK in her hands and carrying two grenades tucked in her belt, Thanh crawled silently towards the house, a well-built dwelling. In the light of a small oil lamp, a song drifted out from the house: Silent night, holy night. All is calm, all is bright. All of a sudden, her heart stopped beating, and tears streamed down from her eyes, reaching her mouth and filling it with a salty taste tinged with bitterness. In her mind, images from childhood suddenly came back in minute detail. Each Christmas, she and the other children in the youth group rehearsed this song many times. The more they rehearsed it, the more they liked it.
The dog’s barking interrupted her reverie. The task given to her was very clear. But deeply rooted feelings surfaced. “God so loved the world that He came to be a man to save those who are lost… How can I have the heart to kill a family that is worshipping the Lord?”
The dog’s barking became more urgent and shrill. There was a salvo of M16 bullets. Thanh’s leg was hit. Oh the pain! She tried to gather all her strength, held the pain in check and crawled back to where her comrades carried her to their hideout.
In the three months it took to nurse herself back to health, Thanh pondered the price they had to pay for the war: “If we don’t kill the enemy, the enemy will end up killing us.” War, war! How cruel can it be? Hatred rose in her eyes, filled her heart and spread all over her body. During this time, An was the brother, the friend, the supervisor who was always there to encourage, help, and be close to her. The relationship grew, and they became husband and wife. This helped her forget the misfortune of the leg injury that made her limp every day.
In the beginning of 1974, the guerillas took Phước Long after artillery fire razed the city. Thanh participated in propaganda efforts. One day, going to the reeducation camps, she ran into Thắm, the nurse she had met at An Lộc, Bình Long.
Thắm told her, “Huy, the person who shot your leg is in here.”
Thanh’s face fell. The thought of getting even with him overcame her. Her jaws locked and started grinding, sounding like two metal plates rubbing against each other.
How strange! The sounds of “Silent Night” came to her ears. Christ’s love and mercy filled her soul. Two streams of tears ran down her pale face.
“What? Thanh, why are you crying?” Thắm asked.
“Just from my strong emotions.”
Then she switched to another subject,
“The war will end soon. I’m so glad! I’ll see my family soon.”
That night, Thanh couldn’t sleep. She felt like her being was full of sin, of stored hatred. She got on her knees and prayed, crying, “Oh Lord Jesus, please forgive my sins, please give me a clean soul which knows how to love and forgive my enemy. I vow to have faith in You and put my life in Your loving hands. Amen.”
She got up with renewed strength and sang softly,

It rolled away, away, very far away!
So much evil!
The savior has cleansed my soul.
The river flows and carries away all sins.
They are cast away, far away.
I am clean.

In the spring of 1975, a tragic event happened to Thanh: An, her husband, died in the assault on Saigon, leaving her with Lan Ngọc, their daughter, who had just made one year and was just starting to walk. The public joy mixed with her private pain and stayed with her day after day. The price to pay for the war was too high! After two long years of painstaking search for her parents, she found out they had died in the chaos, and her siblings had fled to other countries. The only family member remaining was an elder sister who had drifted to the plains of Đồng Tháp Mười. Thanh took her daughter to visit Thu. The two sisters reunited and hugged each other in tears and joy mixed with bitterness.
The finances of her sister’s family were not good. They lived in a run-down thatched hut. Every day, her sister had to go to the fields and catch crabs and snails to sell for rice. Her three children didn’t go to school. Instead, they followed their father to do all kinds of odd jobs, such as cut rice stalks, fish, water fields… They were dark from being outdoors so much and wore unkempt clothes. They ate whatever they could find. Thanh looked at them in pain. Although a government worker, she was paid only a few dozen piasters each month and was given goods using coupons. Her small family of two could survive only with very careful budgeting. She didn’t know how to help her nieces and nephews.
All day Thanh suffered from headaches as she listened to her sister lament about many things in life, “The church only has a few remaining members. Offerings are not enough to pay for the pastor’s salary. He has to work to support himself — not like before…”
Her sister’s husband seemed more optimistic, “Next week, my three sons and I will get to the empty fields and clean two more pieces of land to plant rice and raise fish.”
Thu tried to talk them out of it, “Go ahead if you want! I will not go with you. I am scared of the leeches and mosquitoes. I heard that over there, the leeches are like noodles in soup, and mosquitoes fly like bees when their hives are disturbed. “
To soothe her, Thanh quickly shared her thoughts, “So just stay home and raise a few dozen ducks. Everyone has a hard time with life now. We must find ways to survive. Who knows, perhaps tomorrow will be bright again.”
Hearing her sister’s words, Thu remained silent, partly because she did not want to upset her more, and partly because she thought the plan sounded logical. Come to think of it, her sister had gotten lost when she was very young, and had to live away from the family. Now she was a widow left with a very young daughter. She loved her sister. However, their philosophies of life were very different.
Thanh attended church with Lan Ngọc, but church members were cold towards them and looked at them with distrust. At the time, that was to be expected, because the local authorities were trying to find ways to control church activities…
Returning to the province of Bình Phước, at the time called Sông Bé, Thanh participated in the women’s activities. With age and declining health, she retired and lived in a small house near the city of Đồng Xoài. At the beginning, she worshipped the Lord every month in Bình Dương, or Hồ Chí Minh City, but because it was so expensive to travel there, she decided to stay close to where she lived. A few Christians belonging to the home churches found her and befriended her family. From then on, the flame of the Holy Spirit ignited through them, and they searched for ways to secretly witness for the Lord to friends and acquaintances.
It is late 2012, more than thirty-seven years had passed since the end of the war. Her dream, like the dream of thousands of people, was that after liberation, the people would have a beautiful life of security, safety, and happiness…. The dreams were still dreams though. Individuals still sinned, and society everywhere was like a giant prison.
In a Bible class, Thanh said slowly, “Jesus came to the world to find and save the lost, regardless of the color of their skin, their ethnicity, their social status or political power. Whoever recognizes their sins, repents from them, and seeks Him will receive His love and mercy and be pardoned…”
A fellow worshipper continued in a halting voice, ”My husband was a guerilla, was wounded in the war with Cambodia in 1979, and retired in 1985. Before, he often drank to forget it all. Since he came to the Lord in 2000, he has improved greatly. The most special thing that happened is he does not beat up his wife anymore.”
Another man continued, waving his hand,” I am a newcomer here in the South. I come from Central Viet Nam. I have believed in Jesus ever since I was a child. Life has taken me many places to earn a living, through many ups and downs. My life has been more sad than happy. In this land of Đồng Xoài, meeting you, my brothers and sisters, I cannot help but recognize that God is everywhere, God resides in the heart of people who worship him with sincerity.”
“Oh! I remember now,” Lan Ngọc ventured. “I’d like to sing this hymn, which is my favorite. Then she sang while clapping her hands, followed by the whole group.
Meeting Jesus changes my life.
Meeting Jesus, I receive the gift of new life.
Meeting Jesus, I truly meet myself.
Meeting Jesus brings me brotherly love.

The song carried far away, touching the hearts of those who yearned to meet Jesus in a war zone a long time ago. With every passing day, that war zone has changed. Many tall buildings, many crowded quarters have sprung up. Hoping the seeds of the Good News will grow here.

THANH NGUYÊN 

Translated by LINDA NGUYEN DANG LIEM