Silent gratitude

In 1978, the fierce battle of 43 days and nights at Long Khot post (formerly Long An province, now Tay Ninh province) kept 5 young soldiers in their homeland. Today, in the Long Khot martyrs' temple, there is still a line of names commemorating their former comrades.

On the last day of July, Uncle Ba (Mr. Vo Van Nao, former Deputy Chief of Long Khot Station at that time) came to the temple again, lit incense and thought: "That year, we only wished for peace in our homeland, and for our people to have a good rice crop, that was enough to make us happy."

Every July, every Vietnamese person always has gratitude in their heart, because the country and the nation have gone through two long wars of national defense with the blood of heroic martyrs. When the country was unified, it was thought that there was complete peace , but the border war broke out, the heroes left again and many of them remained forever to make the Fatherland peaceful today.

At red addresses along the length of the country these days, there are white wreaths of remembrance, respectful incense sticks, bells, and candles praying for the souls of those who lie in the bosom of Mother Earth to rest in peace.

It is very difficult to answer and please do not ask why after so many years, tears still choke. Losses are not small or big, little or much, because all pains are equally painful. Some people still have red eyes because of the old story, even though they have heard it five or seven times, it still hurts when looking at the words "unknown martyr", after so many years, somewhere there is a mother who is still waiting for her child to come home.

The country reorganized its administrative units, provinces and cities merged to further promote local strengths, some provinces and cities in the southwestern border area also merged, a strip adjacent to the national border. In some places, the border was just fields, rivers, patrol routes were boats following the water. So that in the heroic or peaceful days today, the border guards still fulfilled their duties.

In the drizzly July afternoon, somewhere on the roads of the Fatherland, at the martyrs’ cemeteries, at the foot of the stele, there is a pair of sandals left by someone, along with a smoldering incense stick, perhaps belonging to an old comrade who just visited. The rain at the border is not as fierce as in the memories of the war, but it is gentle like a mother’s lullaby. In the sound of the rain, there are green shoots stretching out to cover the motherland, waiting for a bountiful harvest.

When July comes, people from the border areas quietly return to the martyrs’ cemetery, to Long Khot temple, to light a few incense sticks, and tell old stories to the children: “Back then, our hometown was full of sedges, but you guys still kept every inch of our homeland.” The story seems old, but every time it is mentioned, gratitude still fills our hearts. Because there were rainy afternoons at the border, when people fell without having time to leave their names…

LIBRA

Source: https://www.sggp.org.vn/lang-le-tri-an-post805746.html