Border lights

We stopped for quite a while in front of the row of 4 houses of Mrs. Le Thi Hong An (born in 1966). The purple color stands out against the twilight sky, not ostentatious but makes people want to look again. Mrs. An said, she chose purple not only because it is beautiful but because it is the color of loyalty, a reminder for her children to love each other, unite and stick to this land. In the middle of the windy border, a woman silently raises her children, saves every penny to build a life, and on the day she receives her new house, she still cries like a child..., all of which shows her simplest wish: a warm family, a solid place to return to.

A few hundred meters further is the house that is being completed by Mr. Huynh Phuc Bao. The floor still smells of cement, the walls have not been painted yet, but the national flag and the new TV have been placed neatly in the living room, waiting to be hung up solemnly. Having lived in a dilapidated temporary house for many years, every rainy season is a time of anxiety, now Mr. Bao just hopes to finish it in time so that his wife and children have a solid place to avoid the rain and wind. But what makes him more emotional is the feeling of peace. He said that this border area is now very different: the roads have been paved, the population is dense and every night there are the silhouettes of soldiers on patrol. "There are soldiers and militia, I live near the checkpoint, I'm never afraid," he said with a gentle smile.

That afternoon, I met Mr. Pham Ngoc Sinh, Commander of the Military Command of My Quy Commune. His face was tanned like someone who stays on guard all year round, but his voice was soft and warm. He said that in order to be present at the handover ceremony, he had to assign his brothers to be on duty early, because soldiers in the border area do not have a single "free" day in the true sense. Each new house is like an "extended arm" of the force, because only with a stable population can there be a support for the army, police, and border guards. The lights of the houses on both sides of the road help those on night patrol feel more secure, because "each roof is a peaceful guard post".

Three characters, three small stories but one thing in common: all are trying to stay on the land, protect the village, build a peaceful life right on the fence. This border area used to be sparsely populated, lacking electricity and water. The people who stayed mainly relied on livestock and farming, with unstable incomes, sometimes when the harvest was good, the price was low, and when the price was good, the harvest was bad. But just a few years ago, the appearance of this place changed dramatically: residential areas adjacent to militia posts and border posts were built; patrol roads were expanded; electricity and water systems were invested in more synchronously. New flags hung in front of each house's porch were like wordless milestones of peace.

The soldier in Sinh’s story makes a very accurate analogy: when the population is stable, the border is not only protected by fences and landmarks but also by “the people’s hearts”. The patrol force has more eyes and ears; the local government has more people willing to report and support when there are signs of abnormality. And most importantly, the people feel attached to the place where they live, not only because they have a new roof, but also because they see a future here.

We walked on small roads where the flags that had just been handed over the day before fluttered in the wind. Each flag, each house, each smoky fire... was a piece of peace that not every border area had. In the middle of the 768km long border of Military Region 7, those "people's heart landmarks" were contributing to maintaining the border in the gentlest but most effective way: through the light of peaceful, happy daily life.

THU HOAI - MANH THANG

Source: https://www.sggp.org.vn/anh-den-bien-gioi-post827599.html