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| Tank 380, driven by the author, enters the Independence Palace at noon on April 30, 1975. Photo: Françoise Demulder |
At nearly 2 PM on April 30, 1975, after the situation at the Independence Palace had stabilized, Company XT4 was assigned the task of seizing Saigon Port and controlling traffic on the river. Immediately after receiving the order, Company Commander Bui Quang Than assembled his troops, briefed them on the mission, and organized the company's movement towards the port.
About twenty minutes later, we arrived at the road in front of the port gate. An extremely chaotic scene unfolded before our eyes: The two port gates were wide open, and crowds of people were rushing out of the port. Some were carrying bales of cloth, others barrels of wine, and still others were laden with all sorts of miscellaneous items… They were looting! Several infantrymen in the vehicles fired their AK rifles into the air, but it had no effect. Everyone only seemed to hurry more. After a while, the first vehicle finally entered the port gate and fired a shot into the sky. The sound of the heavy artillery exploding in the city was terrifying and immediately had an effect. Everyone around quickly lay down on the ground and scattered. The port suddenly became deserted.
Immediately after entering the harbor, Captain Thận ordered the vehicles to move closer to the edge of the pier. The 100mm cannons pointed down at the river, creating a powerful display. A few minutes later, two self-propelled barge-like vessels came up from downstream. We waved lightly, and the two vessels immediately steered close to the pier. The ship owners came ashore and reported: “Their ships are civilian vessels, but they were requisitioned by the government to transport troops. However, the soldiers deserted this afternoon, and now they are on their way home.” When asked, “Why are there so many weapons on board?”, they explained: “The South Vietnamese soldiers abandoned all their weapons, ammunition, and even their uniforms when they disbanded.”
After checking their documents and confirming they were correct, we agreed to let them go home but demanded they bring all their weapons ashore. Seeing two intact boxes of flares in the corner of the cabin, I insisted they bring them all ashore.
American flares have a casing made of an aluminum tube about the size of an ankle, with a primer at one end and a sealed cap at the other, held in place by tape. With this construction, they remain undamaged even after being submerged in water for months. To use them, simply peel off the tape, insert the cap into the bottom of the tube, and slam it down. A flare will then shoot up. Thanks to the parachute, the flare will hover in the air for a few minutes, illuminating a fairly large area. The other day, during the attack on the Thai-Thai Junction in Long Thanh, I also confiscated a box. I didn't have any specific intention of using it for anything; it was just the playful whim of a nineteen or twenty-year-old boy. By then, I was the "flare storekeeper" because I had three boxes in my possession!
After waiting a while and seeing no ships passing by, Mr. Thận assigned the drivers to stay and keep watch, while the rest went to cook rice and clean up the warehouse area. A whole row of ten vast warehouses had their doors wide open. A considerable amount of goods had already been looted, but there was still plenty left. There was everything from the finest to the cheapest, some packages as big as entire rooms, others as small as bowls and chopsticks, but perhaps the most abundant were fabrics. Having been thoroughly educated about the discipline of looting, we only asked permission to pick up a few odds and ends from each truck, some food and drink, and some cloth to wipe the trucks. After several days of only dried rations and water, the first meal on victory day, with American canned food, eaten in porcelain bowls and red chopsticks on the windy pier, was truly delicious.
After finishing our meal, we all went to sit near the edge of the pier. There was a pile of logs scattered haphazardly. Nearly twenty of us, some standing, some sitting, recalled the names of those who had fallen along the way from the North through A Lưới ( Hue ) to here, reminiscing about our hometowns and remembering our loved ones waiting for us back home. Everyone thought that in just a few days they would be able to return home.
The first peaceful afternoon on the harbor was tranquil. Water hyacinths drifted lazily across the river. A cool breeze dispelled the weariness of more than a month of relentless fighting. In the west, the sun was setting completely. The Saigon sky at sunset was a strangely deep purple. Suddenly remembering the three boxes of flares in the car, I suggested:
"Commander!" Let's fire some flares to celebrate the victory!
Mr. Thận was wide awake:
- Are there flares?
I replied:
- My car has three crates. That's a total of one hundred and twenty apples.
Captain Thận was overjoyed:
Then bring it out! It's been so many years since we've had this day, how can we not be happy?
I called artilleryman Tho to come with me to the truck to bring the flares. Three boxes of flares were opened, and I gave each person a few. Than said:
- Everyone open the lids! Wait for my order before closing them!
At that moment, he seemed decades younger. I had once fired flares, but my heart was pounding with excitement. The whole city would be watching. Waiting for everyone to be ready, Thận shouted:
Two, three!
Nearly two dozen arms slammed down simultaneously. All we heard were "whoosh," "whoosh," and then nearly two dozen flares burst into the deep purple sky. A corner of Saigon lit up, the shimmering river surface reflecting the light, making the cluster of lights even more magical. We looked up with joy and cheered until our voices were hoarse. Thận urged us to get ready and then shouted again. Another series was fired. Before the previous series had completely faded, the next one followed, making the light even more brilliant. Suddenly, someone spoke up:
- Shooting like this will make the ammunition run out too quickly! Maybe we should shoot more slowly.
Captain Thận agreed:
Now, sit in a circle. Starting with me, then each person in turn. Let's begin!
He said that and slammed his hand down. All we heard were a series of whooshing sounds. In the deep purple sky, flares burst into bloom one after another; as one faded, another shot up. A whole corner of Saigon lit up, and we cheered until our voices were hoarse. Here and there, a few more flares were fired, adding to our fireworks display.
My company's flare firing lasted nearly thirty minutes. The sky over the Saigon port area was as bright as day and filled with the cheers of dozens of young voices.
Even now, half a century later, I can never forget that dazzling, magical display of light. I've witnessed many fireworks displays in various places, but for the soldiers of Company XT4 and myself, the fireworks display celebrating the Great Victory on Saigon port on April 30, 1975, will forever remain the most beautiful fireworks display of our lives.
Source: https://huengaynay.vn/chinh-polit-xa-hoi/man-phao-hoa-dep-nhat-trong-doi-165148.html
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