The day Saigon held hands with Hanoi...

April 30, 1975, the day of national reunification, how did it happen in Hanoi , a place that seemed far from the battlefield but had been no stranger to bombs and bullets for more than 30 years?

Two Hanoians, painter Le Thiet Cuong and People's Artist Nguyen Huu Tuan, recounted the story of those days, which were also their youthful years, with simple, gentle memories, like the lyrics of the famous song Hanoi - Hue - Saigon (Hoang Van, poem by Le Nguyen):

"On the motherland, the sun is as rosy as silk, through thousands of years the two regions are bound together, like branches growing up from the same root, like brothers of the gentle mother Vietnam. Hue holds hands with Saigon and Hanoi...".

The first person I asked was the son of the author of the lyrics - painter Le Thiet Cuong.

* Sir, what was the atmosphere like in Hanoi on April 30, 1975?

- That year I was 13 years old. Since growing up, I, like all the children of Hanoi's Old Quarter, except for a few years in between, had to evacuate until the signing of the Paris Agreement in 1973, then we returned to the city.

At that time, I studied at Nguyen Du School, and then at Ly Thuong Kiet School in high school. During the evacuation, I studied near Binh Da, Thanh Oai, on the Day River. Those were the last days of school to prepare for summer vacation.

Author Le Nguyen and his son Le Thiet Cuong in Saigon around the early 1980s.

Actually, the atmosphere of liberation had been stirring since March. At that time, my family lived with my grandfather and many relatives at 10 Hang Thung, right next to the house of musician Hoang Van (real name Le Van Ngo, the young man) at 14, all of whom were descendants of Hai Thuong Lan Ong Le Huu Trac.

The family had an uncle who worked at the Army Radio, and he often brought newspapers home to read. The children didn't know anything, but seeing the adults eagerly waiting for their uncle to come home from work to see if there was any news of victory made them very curious.

At the same time, another uncle who also lived at the same house number and worked at the Electricity Department, applied for a permit to install a small radio hanging on the wall to broadcast daily, paying a few cents a month in fees.

I often listen to classical music from this radio. My grandfather was afraid that the children would break it, so he put it high up, so I had to put a chair on it to listen.

Unfortunately, on April 30th, the radio broke down, probably because the kids turned it up too loud, so it gradually got quieter, only crackling.

The only way left was to go to the banyan tree in front of the Hong Van - Long Van ice cream shop on Hoan Kiem Lake. That tree had a very large branch extending out onto the street, with a cast iron speaker hanging from it that looked like a lampshade.

All the people from the surrounding streets came out, extremely crowded because passersby also stopped their bicycles below to listen.

My grandfather couldn't go so I ran back to tell him what I remembered, just as my uncle brought the newspaper with the news of the liberation.

Grandfather was very happy, told me to go to Hang Ma to buy pieces of paper with many flags printed on them, cut them out and use glue to stick them on the handles split from chopsticks.

The house had a very valuable antique ceramic vase. He put flags in those vases and told his children to hold one to wave whenever they left the house. That made me feel emotional when I thought about it. There was a time when people loved their country sincerely, without having to try.

* I think your grandfather had some very special children, like your father, poet Le Nguyen, author of the poem Hanoi - Hue - Saigon which was set to music by musician Hoang Van.

Poet Le Nguyen, photo taken in Hanoi in 1955, during his first leave after the Dien Bien Phu campaign. He later returned to Dien Bien Phu to collect documents for the Army Museum (Family photo)

- My father's real name is Le Quoc Toan, born in 1931. He ran away from home to join the army with his brothers in 1946. As a soldier of the 312th division, he was assigned to write for the division's newspaper.

Because he knew French, he was assigned by General Le Trong Tan and Tran Do to interview French prisoners of war on the Dien Bien Phu battlefield. After the victory, he wanted to retire.

Mr. Tran Do said: "You know that in your unit there are many Tay and Nung people, you should teach them. You have qualifications and write for newspapers, you should stay another year, collect artifacts of the campaign to keep for the museum, you need to write notes for storage".

After that, Mr. Tran Do returned to the cultural sector. My father stayed in the army for about a year before returning to Hanoi to study screenwriting at the Film School. The guidance of those generals who were interested in culture played a big role in my father's path.

* How did the journey of the poem make Hoang Van's famous song, sir?

- The poem Hanoi - Hue - Saigon was published in Thai Nguyen newspaper in 1960. At that time, he had several other poems such as Poem sent to Thai Nguyen.

At that time, he was flirting with Miss Thao, a Chinese interpreter in the Thai Nguyen steel mill, who would later become my mother. Both songs were set to music by Hoang Van in 1961.

Regarding the poem Hanoi - Hue - Saigon, he confided to me that it was a poem that created an S-shaped map with the intention of personifying the image of a Hue girl in the middle holding hands with two girls from Saigon and Hanoi.

When my father passed away, I only asked for two souvenirs: a fountain pen and a 33 rpm record with the song Hanoi - Hue - Saigon given by musician Hoang Van in 1976.

On the cover of the record there is a dedication: "For my beloved Le Nguyen on the occasion of the Dragon Year, the reunion of North and South - The first record entirely produced in Vietnam".

* You have a grandfather who cherishes flags, a father who forges a unifying symbol, what does that mean to you?

- I think Hanoi people overcome difficulties or win because they know how to live and play, even in the midst of bombs and bullets.

During the war, Mr. Lam Ca Phe still rode his bike to Van Cao's house to have his portrait painted, about 1 meter in size, while drinking wine together. One of the things that made "Dien Bien Phu in the air" in 1972 possible was that Hanoians still knew how to play and appreciate beauty.

I was impressed by the story that musician Cao Viet Bach told about the symphony orchestra from Hanoi performing at the Saigon Opera House on September 2, 1975, contributing to erasing the negative propaganda of the old government about the North. They realized that behind that, a cultural life of Hanoi was still there.

In contrast to the memories in Hanoi of painter Le Thiet Cuong about a musical melody that depicts "a thousand years of attachment to three regions", cinematographer and People's Artist Nguyen Huu Tuan had another journey: from Hanoi to Saigon on April 30, 1975.

* Sir, how was your trip to Saigon prepared?

- At that time I was a film student at Vietnam Cinematography School.

Hanoians were already buzzing about the imminent liberation of Saigon, especially after Hue and Da Nang were liberated, and the film industry began to feel the need to prepare.

The Film School mobilized the most "hardcore" students to go film with the teachers. Our group was a scrap group. Many people better than me didn't get to go, so for me it was luck.

We were ordered to go and prepare our military equipment on April 27 and 28, which meant that complete victory was imminent.

After two days of traveling to Vinh, we stopped to cross the Ben Thuy ferry. When we got off the bus, we noticed the strange atmosphere and attitude of the people. It was noon on April 30. We heard people whispering to each other: "Saigon has been liberated." Before we could feel anything, everyone urged the bus to continue, and so we were swept along the journey.

I arrived in Saigon around May 6 and 7. My first impression of the South was that I was on a small road and suddenly came to a wide open road.

The driver said, "That's the Saigon - Bien Hoa highway." I woke up, remembering that I had imagined this place since 1960, when the Northern press reported that the US was building the Saigon - Bien Hoa highway as a "disguised airport."

I looked around and saw the old regime soldiers running in disarray, tanks lying around, and abandoned military equipment scattered on both sides of the road. Sitting on the command car, holding a video camera, I was excited, like "I'm in Saigon!"

Cinematographer Nguyen Huu Tuan (left cover), director Vuong Khanh Luong (second from right) and artists from the North reunite with the Southern feature film industry - Photo archive

* What is your impression of Saigon people?

- After crossing Saigon Bridge, we drove for a long time and saw people looking at us strangely. We couldn't understand what they were saying. After a while, I told the driver that we seemed to be going the wrong way.

At that time, many boys and girls on motorbikes drove close to our car and called out, "Hey guys, where are you going? We'll guide you!"

We told them our destination was the Caravelle Hotel, where the film crews and press were gathered. They shouted, “Follow me!” They were the first to greet us. They were all cheerful and polite.

Maybe because the first image of the soldiers must have been very beautiful, the Northern soldiers had an innocent, lovely, very cute look.

Actually, the young soldiers are cute because they are very shy in communication and are told too much by their commanders. Maybe they are shy when they see Saigon people wearing suits and riding Vespas, and they feel inferior.

I am more mature, have been abroad, have confidence since childhood, so I do not have that inferiority complex. Entering Ben Thanh market, the guide said loudly, you guys from R, vendors, don't sell your goods at high prices!

The whole market knew after a while. Those were the first days.

Vuong Khanh Luong in a pho restaurant in Saigon, May 1975. Document by Nguyen Huu Tuan

* Do Hanoi boys experience any culture shock from strange food?

Young people usually just eat to fill their stomachs. But I have a funny memory of eating pho in Saigon.

Mr. Vuong Khanh Luong (later Director of the Documentary Film Studio of the Central Scientific Documentary Film Studio) discovered that in the alley near his residence "there was a very big pho restaurant".

The next morning at 6:30 we went out to eat. Luong was only 19 years old, fair-skinned, and when he saw a girl his face turned red, so the salesgirl must have noticed and kept smiling.

After finishing eating and returning to the hotel, the teachers (People's Artist Le Dang Thuc, People's Artist Tran The Dan) and friends just woke up. The teacher invited us to eat again, this time he paid.

The two boys pretended not to have breakfast and went along. The teacher asked where we were going, and the young and inexperienced Luong quickly pointed to the pho restaurant. This time the teacher gave the group two bowls each, so Luong and I ate three bowls that morning.

* Did you observe the artistic life in Saigon during those days?

We were told to film the scene of students burning obscene literature in the yard of the Pedagogical School. While the students were burning it, I opened it and mumbled, "This book is good."

Just whispering like that, it spread among the students right after that, a soldier said the book was fine.

I already knew the Southern songs, but my first impression was when the students had a group activity and sang Trinh Cong Son's song "Noi vong tay lon".

* How long after you returned to Hanoi and looking back at Hanoi, what did you feel?

About 3-4 months later I returned to Hanoi. I had been abroad and felt that Hanoi was too poor.

This time I don't feel that way anymore, because there are so many stories to tell, so many gifts to share with everyone, friends... sometimes it's just a marker for a friend, perfume for a girlfriend.

At that time, returning to Hanoi only felt like returning home, feeling secure and proud of the special thing I had done, which was filming footage that I thought was good.

* In your family at that time, did the unification of the two regions create any emotions?

My family owned a Tam Ky fabric shop since the French period. My mother had a list of people who owed money for goods and migrated to the South in 1954.

Before leaving, my mother told me to go to Gia Long Street (now Ly Tu Trong) in Saigon and ask around for old business friends. At that time, many people from Hang Dao lived in the same street.

One night I invited Luong to a house, they were probably surprised. But I avoided talking about the debt and told him that his mother told him to come and visit her if he was confused.

Neither of us knew what to do except drink tea, eat cookies, and talk. When I left, although I thought about what my mother had said, I felt embarrassed and didn't go back. They didn't come to find me either.

Thinking back to the North-South meeting that year, I think of the emotions before that historic moment, the people of Hanoi did not express themselves loudly, but were just happy and excited. That was the reality of war.

Hanoians were disappointed several times, like in 1968 when they thought victory was imminent, then the 12 days and nights of December 1972 when they were devastated by B-52 bombs still shocked them, so perhaps the news of victory made people feel down, not as overwhelming as the media later recreated.

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Content: NGUYEN TRUONG QUY

Design: VO TAN

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Source: https://tuoitre.vn/ngay-sai-gon-cam-tay-ha-noi-20240427145929171.htm