Đặng Thùy Trâm (1942–1970, a doctor and a martyr of the Vietnam War, remembered for the moving wartime diaries she wrote while serving as a battlefield physician in Quảng Ngãi province.)
Written to her parents on March 8, 1964:
The Lunar New Year has just passed, and I wasn’t able to send a letter home in time to you, only to Hiền, since I received her letter right on New Year’s Eve. Even though Tết is over, I still want to send my New Year’s wishes in this letter - from a daughter who, no matter where she is or what situation she’s in, always thinks of her parents and family. Truly, Pa and Ma, this past Tết was one where I felt very full - both materially and spiritually. I received many letters from friends that helped ease homesickness. There were so many cakes and sweets, even more than what people in the lowlands had to celebrate. I still had leftover treats even by the 15th of the first lunar month. And yet… something still felt missing. I missed our traditional New Year’s Eve dinner - the pork skin soup, the pork hock stew with glass noodles, the pickled salad. I missed the flurry of preparations and house decorating. But well, there’s no other way than to wait for the day of reunification, when I can once again live fully in your love and our family up North.
Pa and Ma, I’m not sure if you’ve been eceiving the letters I’ve sent. I’ve received many from the North - from friends and family - but none from you in the past six months. I’m so encouraged to hear that the family is well and progressing in many ways. But I still don’t know much about your living conditions. Has life been difficult? Has anything improved since the fighting stopped? Please tell me in your next letters, Pa and Ma. Sometimes I long to send something back to you, anything, as a token of your daughter’s love. I’ve grown up without contributing much to the family, but there are many others like me now. As for me, please don’t worry - I’m living quite comfortably in all aspects. In the past two years, I’ve matured a lot. In my work, I’ve made progress and earned the trust of others - in my medical skills, teaching, organizing, leadership, and even my approach to the public. Many people here care deeply for me - they often say I’m like the beloved child of both the province and the entire region. Recently, during the provincial medical sector’s annual review, the clinic I’m in charge of was ranked best in the province and is being nominated for a Second-Class Liberation Medal (the highest class in the province). I myself was recognized as an Outstanding Individual. I don’t let this praise go to my head - it only pushes me to try harder to be worthy of such affection.
In terms of material life, Đức Phổ is the most comfortable place I've been. It's a rich area - mainly rich in love for the revolutionary cadres. I’m spoiled here - people send me all kinds of gifts. I probably live better than most in my agency. Because we’re fighting the Americans, most of our gear is American - from our hammocks, mosquito nets, spoons, and cups, to the coffee we drink. Even our candy must be up to par - like Hải Châu sweets. We don’t bother with low-quality ones like nougat. As for clothing and supplies, it’s all Japanese - everything is "Made in Japan," from the fabric to the beautiful, durable nylon material we love because it dries fast. My Sony radio is Japanese too - I think Pa would love it. It's tiny and works great. Here, farmers have a high standard of living. Radios are common, motorcycles are standard - no one really uses bicycles. Even TVs aren’t rare. They’re about one and a half times the price of my radio, but we don’t buy them because they use too much power. They’re only practical with electricity. So yes, even though life here is harsh, it's also full of comfort. The greatest joy is being surrounded by boundless love from so many people.
I’m still working with the District Youth Union. If I had more time, I’d be involved with the provincial Liberation Youth Union too. Don’t worry, Pa and Ma. I hope I can return to you and the family in the not-so-distant future.
P.S. Please send my regards to Aunt Tuyến, Aunt Hòa, and my cousins Kim Anh, Hoàng Anh, Phương Đông, and all the aunties and uncles who work with Má.
