How did April 30, 4, the day of national unification, take place in Hanoi, a place seemingly far from the battlefield but no stranger to bombs and bullets for more than 1975 years?
Two Hanoians, painter Le Thiet Cuong and People's Artist Nguyen Huu Tuan, recount the story of those days, also their youthful years, with rustic, gentle memories, like the lyrics of the famous song Ha Noi. Noi – Hue – Saigon (Hoang Van, poem by Le Nguyen):
“In the motherland, the sun is as pink as silk, thousands of years of bonding between the two regions, like branches growing from the same root, like brothers of the gentle mother Vietnam. Hue holds the hand of Saigon Hanoi...".
The first person I asked was the son of the author of that song - artist Le Thiet Cuong.
* Sir, on April 30, 4, how was the atmosphere in Hanoi?
– I was 13 years old that year. Since growing up, I, like all children in Hanoi's Old Quarter, except for a few years in the middle, had to evacuate until the Paris Agreement was signed in 1973 before returning to the city.
At that time, I studied at Nguyen Du School, and in high school, I studied at Ly Thuong Kiet School. During the evacuation, they studied near Binh Da and Thanh Oai on the Day River. It was the last days of school to prepare for summer break.
Author Le Nguyen and his son Le Thiet Cuong in Saigon around the early 1980s
In fact, the atmosphere of liberation has been gathering since March. At that time, my family lived with my grandfather and many relatives at 3 Hang Thung, right next to the house of musician Hoang Van (real name Le Van Ngo, Mr. children) at number 10, are all descendants of Hai Thuong Lan Ong Le Huu Trac.
My family has an uncle who works at Military Radio, who often brings newspapers home to read. Children don't know anything, but seeing adults eagerly waiting for their uncle to bring home the newspaper to see if there is news of victory is also very curious.
At the same time, another uncle also living in the same house number, working at the Department of Electricity, asked for a permit to install a small radio mounted on the wall to broadcast daily, paying a few dimes a month in fees.
I often listen to classical music from this radio. Grandpa was afraid that the children would mess with it, so he put it up high, so I had to put my chair up and put my ear in to listen.
Unfortunately, on April 30, the radio broke down. Perhaps because the children turned it up too loud, it gradually became smaller and only flickered.
The only way is to go to the sycamore tree in front of Hong Van - Long Van ice cream shop in Bo Ho. That tree has a very large branch extending out into the street, hanging from it a cast iron speaker shaped like a lampshade.
The entire population of 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 back the newspaper with the news of liberation.
Grandfather was very happy and told him to go to Hang Ma to buy sheets of paper printed with many flags, cut them out, and then use glue to stick them onto the handles split from chopsticks for eating rice.
The house has a very precious antique ceramic jar. He put flags in those jars and told the children to hold a flag wherever they left the house to wave. That makes me still feel moved when I think about it. There was a time when people were truly patriotic, without trying.
* I think your grandfather had very special children, like your father, poet Le Nguyen, the 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 vacation after the Dien Bien Phu campaign, then he returned to Dien Bien Phu to collect documents for the Military museum (Family file 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. He was a soldier of the 312th division. He was responsible for writing for the division's newspaper.
Because he knew French, he was assigned by Generals Le Trong Tan and Tran Do to interview French prisoners of war at Dien Bien Phu battlefield. After the victory, he wanted to retire from the army.
Mr. Tran Do said: "You know that in your unit there are many Tay and Nung people, you should teach them. You are qualified and write newspapers. You should stay another year, collect campaign artifacts to save for the museum, and write notes for archives."
After that, Mr. Tran Do returned to the cultural sector, my father was in the army for about a year before returning to Hanoi to study screenwriting at the Film School. The orientations of those culturally interested generals played a large role in my father's path.
* What is the journey of the poem that made Hoang Van's famous song, sir?
– The poem Hanoi – Hue – Saigon was printed in Thai Nguyen newspaper in 1960. At that time, he had several more poems such as Poem to Thai Nguyen.
At that time, he was flirting with Ms. Thao, a Chinese translator at the Thai Nguyen iron and steel district, who later became my mother. Both songs were put to music by Hoang Van in 1961.
Regarding the song Hanoi - Hue - Saigon, he confided to me that it was a poem that created an S-shaped map with the intention of personifying it with the image of a Hue girl in the middle holding hands with two Saigon girls. and Hanoi.
When my father passed away, I only asked for two souvenirs: a fountain pen and a 33-turn record with the song Hanoi - Hue - Saigon given by musician Hoang Van in 1976.
On the cover of the record there is a dedication: "Gifted to my beloved Le Nguyen on the occasion of the reunion of the North and South Dragons - The first record entirely produced by Vietnam".
* You have a grandfather who cherishes flags, a father who draws a unifying symbol, what does that mean to you?
– I think Hanoi people can overcome difficulties or win because they know how to live and play, even in bombs and bullets.
During the war, Mr. Lam coffee still rode his bicycle to Van Cao's house to have his portrait painted, about 1 meter large, while drawing and drinking together. One of the things that made "Dien Bien Phu in the air" in 1972 is that Hanoians still know how to play and appreciate beautiful things.
I was impressed with the story musician Cao Viet Bach told about the symphony orchestra from Hanoi performing at the Saigon Opera House on September 2, 9, contributing to erasing the negative propaganda of the former government. to the North. They realized that behind it was a cultural life of Hanoi that was still there.
In contrast to painter Le Thiet Cuong's memories in Hanoi of a musical feature "spanning thousands of years of attachment to the three regions", cinematographer, People's Artist Nguyen Huu Tuan has another journey: from Hanoi to Saigon. Gon on April 30, 4.
* Sir, how were you prepared for your trip to Saigon?
– At that time, I was a student majoring in cinematography at the Vietnam Cinema School.
Hanoians were already wondering that Saigon was about to be liberated, especially after Hue and Da Nang were liberated, the film industry began to feel like they had to prepare.
The Film School mobilizes the most "hardcore" students to film with teachers. Our group is a dredging group. Many people better than me didn't get to go, so for me it was luck.
We were ordered to go and prepare military equipment on April 27 and 28, meaning that the situation of complete victory had arrived.
Travel two days to Vinh then stop to cross the Ben Thuy ferry. When I got off the bus, I found the atmosphere and people's attitudes very strange. It was noon on April 30. There were people whispering to each other: "Saigon has been liberated." Before we could feel anything, everyone urged the car to continue, and just like that we were carried away along the journey.
I arrived in Saigon around May 6 and 7. The first impression of the South is that you are walking on a small road and suddenly come across a vast stretch of road.
The driver said, it's the Saigon - Bien Hoa highway. I woke up and remembered that I had imagined this place since 1960, when the Northern press reported on the US building the Saigon - Bien Hoa highway to "make a disguised airport".
I looked around and saw soldiers of the old regime running haphazardly, tanks lying around, and both sides of the road were strewn with abandoned equipment. Sitting on the bus, holding a video camera, I was in an excited mood like "we are in Saigon!".
Cinematographer Nguyen Huu Tuan (left), director Vuong Khanh Luong (second from right) and artists from the North reunited with the Southern feature filmmaking team - Documentary photo
* What is your impression of the people of Saigon?
– Passing the Saigon Bridge, we kept running and saw people on the street looking at us very strangely. We couldn't understand what they were saying. After a while, I told him to drive, it seemed like we were going in the wrong direction.
At that time, many boys and girls riding motorbikes ran close to our car, calling out, "Brothers, wherever you go, we will guide you!".
We said the destination was the Caravelle Hotel, where filming and press crews gathered. They shouted, “Follow me!” Those were the people who welcomed us first. All were cheerful and polite.
Maybe it's because the first image of the soldiers must have been very beautiful, the Northern soldiers have a naive, adorable, very cute look.
Actually, young soldiers are really cute because they are very shy in communication and are given too many instructions by their commanders. Maybe they are shy when they look at Saigon people wearing suits and riding Vespas, making them feel guilty.
I'm older, have been abroad, and have had confidence since I was a child, so I don't have that inferiority complex. Entering Ben Thanh market, the guide shouted loudly, you guys from R, please don't sell too much!
After a while, the whole market will know. Those were the early days.
Vuong Khanh Luong in a pho restaurant in Saigon in May 5. Documents by Nguyen Huu Tuan
* Do Hanoi guys experience any culture shock like strange foods?
When it comes to food, young people usually only know how to eat until they are full. But I have a happy 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 shop".
At 6:19 the next morning, we went out to eat. At that time, he was only XNUMX years old, white-skinned, and when he saw a girl's face, his face turned red, so the salesgirl must have noticed and kept smiling.
After eating, returning to the hotel, the teachers (People's Artist Le Dang Thuc, People's Artist Tran The Dan) and his friends had just woken up. The teacher invited them to eat again, this time he paid.
The two boys pretended not to have eaten breakfast yet and also went along. When the teacher asked where to go, young Luong quickly pointed to the pho restaurant. This time, the teacher let the whole group eat two bowls each, so Luong and I ate three bowls in the morning.
* Did you observe the artistic life of those days in Saigon?
We were invited to film scenes of students burning depraved cultural products in the yard of the Pedagogical School. When the students burned it, I opened it and muttered, this book is good.
Just saying it in a whisper but it spread among the students right away, with one soldier saying the book was okay.
Southern songs were already known, but the first impression was when students had group activities, they sang Trinh Cong Son's song "Connecting Big Arms".
* How long after you returned to Hanoi and what did you feel when you looked back at Hanoi?
About 3-4 months later I returned to Hanoi. I used to come back from abroad and had the feeling that Hanoi was too poor.
This time, I don't have that feeling anymore, because there are so many stories to tell, many gifts to share with everyone, friends... sometimes it's just a highlighter pen for a friend, perfume for a girlfriend.
At that time, returning to Hanoi, I only had the feeling of returning home, feeling secure and proud of the special thing I had done, which was filming what I thought was good footage.
* In your family at that time, did the unification of the two regions create any emotions?
My family has owned a Tam Ky fabric shop since the French period. My mother at that time had a list of people who owed money for goods and had migrated to the South in 1954.
Before leaving, my mother told me that when I went to Saigon, I should go to Gia Long Street (now Ly Tu Trong) and ask about my old business friends. At that time, many Hang Dao people lived in the same row.
One night I invited Mr. Luong to a house, perhaps they were also surprised. But I avoided talking about debt and said that my mother told me that if I'm confused, I should come visit my uncle.
Both sides didn't know what to do except drink tea, eat cookies and talk. When I left, even though I thought about what my mother said, I still felt embarrassed so I didn't go back there. They didn't come looking for me either.
Thinking back to the meeting between North and South that year, I think about the emotions before that historic moment that Hanoi people actually did not express loudly, but were just excited. That is the reality of war.
Hanoi people were disappointed in their joy a few times, like in 1968 when they thought victory had come, then spending 12 days and nights in December 1972 being destroyed by B-52 bombs still shocked them, so perhaps the news of the war was over. Winning makes people feel down, it doesn't reveal itself as suddenly as the media later reconstructed it.
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Content: NGUYEN TRUONG QUI
Design: VO TAN
