Ned:

May 18, 1967

Dear Ned,

The child is a girl! Her name is Mya, (dad’s?) choice afterall. She’s very ớm, uhm skiny. I wory she’s not getting enouh fud. I hope your 40 day leave is over soon. I have not keeped track this time. I am very missing you. Pleaze be safe!

                                           Lov,

                                           Ngoc

I smiled and chuckled to myself. So it was a girl. Called it! Oh, she’s going to be a daddy’s girl. I just know it right now. Ngoc is also getting better at writing in English.

“Ooh, what did your wife send you this time? Oh look boys, there’s a signoff. It says love! So cute!” Gale howled as he waved to the guys.

“Shut up. At least I’m not as barbaric as you to play touch football everywhere,” I said back. Although my words had bite, I was smiling and all of them knew how I felt.

As of currently, our unit is in it’s 11th time doing an ‘operation’. We’d call it an operation, but ultimately, we’re just moving for 40 days, hiding in bamboo shafts. The times when we weren’t hiding, we played cards, sang songs with guitars and played a version or two of touch football. Only one more day and we’d be back in Saigon. And in two days, it’s Ngoc’s birthday.

“ ‘Ey! Thinking about the family back home?” Tim yelled. Apparently you shouldn’t stare at a letter sent to you from home. “So what’s the news there?”

“I got a daughter,” I said very candid. If I showed emotion, I’m never going to hear the end.

“Wow, congrats man. Told you, you and the girl were good,” Gale said. He’s right, I do owe him one.

“Lights out!” yelled Haldane. All of us grumbled, the boxes called our beds are very uncomfortable. And most of us would rather just go home and leave all this behind. As we climbed into bed, everyone said goodnight in a way that suggested an uncomfortable one at least.

Ned:

May 20th, 1967
“Happy Birthday Ngoc!” I cheered as I ran the rest of the way to our house. Although I was home yesterday morning, I found that the unit still had to finish up the leave by debriefing for a whole day.
Ngoc giggled. She looked tired, but she still looked pretty gorgeous at the same time. I remember the first time I saw her. All business and no emotion. How did I ever thought that she was rich and spoiled?
“Ned! You made it back home. Safe and sound! I’m so glad!” she hugged me as she cried out. I bent down to kiss her forehead. She always does this whenever I come home from a leave. It’s worrisome. Staying in Saigon, she helps the citizens patrol the city, since it’s the capitol. She’s always at risk, but because of being pregnant, she’s been safe for nine months. Now, I just know she’s going back out. Suddenly, I heard a quiet whimper which turned into a wails from inside the house.
“That’s Mya, she needs her ba, I bet,” Ngoc smiled and turned to head into the house. I ran towards the noise. By the time Ngoc got there, she seemed out of breath. “Uhm, still sore…need to catch my breath…meet Mya...You spell her name like that right?” she breathed out.
“Yeah, that’s perfect,” I turned away from Ngoc and towards Mya. “Hi Mya, I’m your daddy. Welcome to the world,” I whispered. I held out my finger and she took it, put it in her mouth and slobbered on it. As I picked her up, she giggled and squealed. Ngoc came up and reached over to wipe the saliva from Mya’s mouth. I spent the rest of the day with my new family, attending to both of them and Ngoc attending to the both of us. I know what we both we’re really thinking: who knows how long we still have as a family? But for that one day, I wasn’t an American soldier. She wasn’t a Southern Vietnamese citizen and we were just a normal family. Just for that one blissful day.

Ned:

January 30, 1968

Starting today, I have a full seven days to spend with Mya and Ngoc. Today was the day before the Lunar New Year. So basically, it’s the eve. Every year, the new year is a truce to celebrate the country’s culture. It was the one thing both the North and South was proud of.

“Ned, come here! Mya looks so cute in her aó dài!” Ngoc yelled. I chuckled as I walked to the room. She insisted that we dress Mya up, even if she was nine months old only. Ngoc was cradling Mya in her arms when I walked in.

I laughed. Ngoc dressed Mya in her kimono. “Mya, you look so cute! Just like your mommy!” I said. I saw Ngoc blush as soon as I said it. “Come on, let’s go show just how lucky I am.” I was telling the truth, I did feel like a really lucky man. We made it through a year. And ironically, tomorrow is also our wedding anniversary. General Westmoreland from the more experienced units felt that the war was coming to an end. Even President Johnson agreed with him. Things looked to be shaping up. Well, one would hopefully assume.

Ned:

January 31, 1968

“Ned! Ned! Wake up! Viet Cong are attacking the city,” Haldane yelled. “Reports from Westmoreland are coming in saying they’re attacking everywhere. We need manpower! WAKE UP!” I groaned...great. Viet Cong are surrounding the city. What happened to the truce? What  happened to spending the time celebrating the culture? This is just great!

“Got it Haldane, be there soon, situation?” I spoke into the radio they gave all of us.

“Bad, losing right now. Ned, I know you don’t want to hear this. I really don’t want to tell you this, but prepare to die. It’s bad Ned,” Haldane said. Die? No. I must’ve heard wrong. Ngoc shifted beside me.

“Ned, cái vì vay?” she groggily asked. How do I tell her? She knows something’s wrong. I mean, I have to tell her.

“Happy Anniversary Princess,” I smiled weakly. That made her wake up, guess she knows my smiles by know. She hugged me.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m going to war. Real war. Not the missions. Haldane says to prepare to meet death,” I said in a rush, trying not to show how hopeless I felt. Ngoc got out of bed.

“You’re going, I’m going too, no arguments,” she said as she started to change into the armor I got her.

“No, you’re not. Think about Mya. If I do die, at least she’ll have a mother. At least I can live through you. Please don’t come,” I begged. She wouldn’t do it otherwise. And I meant it too. Mya needs a mother at least. It’s the man’s duty to keep the family safe, right? That’s what I’m going to do.

Tears ran through her eyes, but she didn’t make a sound. “Ned, you’re living through this. Don’t you dare give up or say goodbye to me or Mya. If you do, that’s the same as giving up,” she said.

“You’ve gotten better at English,” I said as I rubbed her cheek with my thumb.

“Living with người my, er American changes your life. In a good way,” she replied. I smiled, living with her changed my life too. 

I walked to where Mya was lying on the bed. I cradled her in my hands for what I knew was my last time. And kissed her forehead. As I whispered in her ear, she started to mumble.

“Mya, I’m never going to see you grow up, I’m never going to see the beautiful woman you’ll turn into. I’m never going to get to see your first boyfriend or your wedding. I’m sorry for leaving you fatherless. I’m sorry for so many things Mya. But mostly, I’m sorry I couldn’t see you grow up.” I choked out, “I love you.” Afterwards, I put her down and tucked her into bed. I turned towards Ngoc. I started to gather her in my arms. I hugged her as if she would slip right out of my fingertips if I didn’t. “Ngoc, I love you, you know that right?” She nodded. “I am so sorry. Don’t be mad, but I’m going to fight. Fight for you and Mya’s freedom. I’m happy to die for that,” I said.

Ngoc pounded my chest and burst into tears, “Đò ngu, stupid, don’t say that!” I hugged her tighter.

“Shhh… Ngoc, listen okay? You’re a strong girl, a beautiful one. You’re not normal. And I love you for that, the way you’re not afraid to risk your life, the way you dress, everything. Never listen to anyone who says otherwise. And if I don’t make it through this, I’ll always be with you. I’ll look over you and Mya. No matter where I am, I love you, Ngoc,” I said. She was shaking in my arms now.

“I love you, Ned. Promise me, you’ll try. Promise me you won’t give up and promise me you’ll come back,” Ngoc whispered.

I hesitated, but managed to sorrowfully reply, “I promise. I have to go, Ngoc.” I pushed away from her just slightly. I took her face in both my hands and kissed her. As soon as I finished, I ran towards the door. Can’t get caught up in it anymore. I’ve said my goodbyes. I told Ngoc how I felt, prolonging it would just put both of them in danger.

As I rushed out the front door, it was chaos. No, chaos was better than this. This is full on hell. I could barely make out who was who. Already I could see that more than just 50 Viet Cong men. How many did they release to Saigon? On the floor you can already see corpses of those caught up in the crossfire or those fighting who was just unlucky. Some figure stumbled towards me. As it got closer, I recognized him. It was Gale! I rushed up to him, just as he collapsed. “Gale, wake up. Wake up! You’re not dead. You can’t be dead!” I yelled trying to break him out of his daze.

“Ned, be careful, please. You have a family, it’s not safe out there. It’s not like the other battles. They’ve planned this for a while, and we had our guard down, it’s a mass of them over there…” he said the life slowly faded from his eyes

“Gale, you’ve been a good friend and a good soldier, may you rest in peace,” I said. I laid him next to the nearest building.

I turned back around. Immediately, a wave of nausea hit me. I closed my eyes. It was the blood. My fear of blood finally caught up to me. I haven’t seen this much since day one. The days I usually did, Ngoc was right beside me, calming me down. I slid down the wall, only a few feet from where I left Gale. Breathing deeply, my heart raced, sweat started to trickle down my neck as I thought of what to do. Go home? I can’t… I swore to myself that I’d protect Ngoc and Mya even if it cost my life. I slowly rose to my feet. Bracing myself, I ran straight into the battlefield.

~~~

I was on my last legs. Heavy losses on both sides. Everyone from the South Vietnamese came out after the North retreated. I noticed that most of them were women skilled in medicine. We barely managed to pull through. I saw Ngoc from a distance, as I fell to my knees. I looked around as she got closer, I didn’t want my last image of her to be her crying. Blood was everywhere. I closed my eyes. It looked revolting. The stench of rotting flesh and copper tinted blood filled the air. “Ned! Ned!” Ngoc choked. “You’re not dead. You’re still alive,” she said as tears ran down her cheeks.

I raised my hand towards her face to brush away her tears, but she took my hand and put it up to her face. “Ngoc, you see me right?” I barely whispered. She nodded. “I’m not going to make it. I can feel myself slowly drifting away from here. It hurts...” I said. I didn’t have time for fairy tales.

“Ned, I’ve treated you before, I can again,” she said hurriedly. She started to get out her materials.

I took her hand and squeezed it tight. I felt tears running down my face. “Ngoc, I’m scared…” I whispered. The pain grew immensely.

“I’m right here, don’t be…” she said back.

“I’m glad I could see you and not just have my last memories be of the battle. I promise, I’ll look over you and Mya from up there,” I smiled weakly. As I slowly closed my eyes and let go, I heard Ngoc’s voice.

“Ned! You can’t leave me! Why…I was so close...I can’t just let you slip through my finger. Please Ned…” she sobbed softly as everything went black. I allowed myself to fall into an abyss that seemed to be as deep as the very hell fires which raged inside of me.

Ngoc:

February 20, 1968

He slipped right through my fingertips only twenty days ago. Twenty days ago was the day he died, the celebratory day suddenly turned sour, because of Viet Cong. Because of the North. As the number of days grew, my sadness subsided and anger began to reside in it’s place. This war has become so intertwining, no one knows who is right anymore, yet we keep fighting. For what? Everyday, all of us are risking our lives for this never ending battle. The Americans are even losing. The invincible Americans. So far, everything has been silent. Who’s going to make the first move?

Ngoc:

March 30, 1975

Seven years since he died. Exactly seven years when the My Lai Massacre happened. Next month is Mya’s birthday. Within her first year of being alive, she’s been through the death of her father and the death of our people. She’s going to turn eight this year. Every night she witnesses nightmares of all her experiences. Whenever I went to battle, she stays at home with my parents. Every time I come back, she rushes up and hugs me as if I was gone for a year.

The Americans left. They left for us to fend for ourselves. Ever since Ned died, ever since most of his unit died, the Americans started to leave. They gave up hope. Holding no more faith in us. Word has it that they pulled out of the war by signing a document. That was all it took them. The document stated that there would be ceasefire between the North and the South. The document stated a lie. The Northern foxes played the Western heroes.

Ngoc:

I closed the door behind me. Mya came out of the house running. She came up and hugged my legs. “Mommy! Tell me a bedtime story about daddy!” she said. I try to avoid these…but seeing as I might not be here longer, I always indulge her.

“Ok, Mya, what do you want to hear tonight?” I said while picking her up and carrying her to bed.

“I want to hear about the day daddy went…” Mya said while looking down. I hesitated.

“Are you sure?” I asked while setting her down on the bed and tucking her in.

“Yes mommy!” she said.

“Ok, here goes,” I started as I climbed into bed and turned towards her, “Daddy woke up hearing Mr. Commander on the radio. Mr. Commander said that daddy needed to go. That it was going to be daddy’s last day...mommy heard so she woke up. You were still sleeping. Daddy dressed in his uniform and started to say goodbye,” I took in a deep breath and looked at Mya.

Mya hugged me tight while crying, “Did daddy say anything to me mommy?”

“Yeah, he did. He said that he was sorry. For leaving you so soon. But that he loved you, and he hoped you would have a better life than this,” I said.

“Did daddy say anything to mommy?”

“He did. Daddy said to mommy to take care of you and that he loved mommy,” I said as I thought about what he really said. “And then daddy left to make a better life for us.”

“Did you see him one last time?”

“Yeah, mommy saw him right before he went. Daddy seemed scared. He didn’t want to go, but he had to, and mommy just let him...she didn’t try to save him...she wanted to...she just couldn’t…”

“Who was daddy?” she seemed to hesitate just a bit.

“Daddy was a special man. He wasn’t Vietnamese, like you. He was American. His eyes were blue and he had brownish hair. But what mattered most was that he loved you. He loved me. He was afraid of blood. His mom and dad are mean to him, but he forgot that. Before mommy had you, he was the only family mommy ever knew,” I said.

As I looked towards Mya who had closed her eyes and was already slightly snoring. “Goodnight Mya,” I said. “And goodnight Ned, wherever you are…” I whispered.

“Goodnight mommy, daddy,” Mya mumbled.

Ngoc:

April 30, 1975

“Mommy! Where are you going today?” Mya said. I froze, I didn’t plan on her catching me. Word has it that the Viet Cong are making their last move today. They plan to capture our city and finish the war once and for all. “Mommy has to go and fight. Stay with grandma and grandpa, they will watch you,” I said without turning around. I remember how Ned said goodbye. It killed me to see him go, but if I didn’t let him, he would still found a way to go, if he thought it would save me and Mya.

“Mommy will come back right?” she asked with a tremor in her voice.

I turned around and kneeled to look her in the eye. No more hiding. “Mya, you’re a big girl now right?”

“Yes, mommy! I’m eight!” she said enthusiastically.

“Okay, mommy has to tell you something,” she nodded, “mommy might not come back. Mommy might be gone forever,” I said, barely holding back the tears.

She burst out crying, “Why, mommy? Stay with me. Please! I love you mommy! I don’t want you gone forever!”

“Mya, big girls don’t cry. Mommy loves you too, but she has to do this. Those mean people killed your daddy. Mommy won’t be able to live if she lets them go. Now be a big girl and don’t cry,” I said while looking her in the eye.

She took the sleeve of her shirts and wiped her face. After she finished, she hugged me around the neck. “Goodbye mommy. I love you.”

“I love you too, Mya.” I gave her a kiss on the forehead and then turned around sharply. Out the door I go.

As I ran to the battle field where the sides clearly drew the lines, I had only two thoughts in my mind. Mya and Ned. Three if you count how I felt about the Viet Cong. I admit, I’m out for bloodshed. They killed Ned. With no mercy. They killed his comrades. They want to take over my home city. Pew! A gunshot sounded from the other side of the line. The battle’s begun.

I ran back and forth trying to avoid bullets. Training your ears to hear the sound of it whooshing is really useful in times like these. I turned around when I heard footsteps. Aim, and fire. Aim and fire. I landed two Viet Cong down. A thousand or so more to go. I sighed.

“Eh! Girl!” said the villager. She must’ve thought I was American. Either way the warning was too late, a Viet Cong had snuck up behind me and drove a knife through my stomach. I coughed out blood. Too bad for him, because whoever’s attacking me will also feel the same treatment they gave me. I grabbed my gun and shot him in the head. Another three came up. I landed them down too. I stumbled to the nearest building and slid down from it’s wall, leaving a streak or two of blood on the owner’s wall. Breathing in deeply, I thought about everything.

Mya, I hope you live a good life. Like your daddy said to you, I’m sorry for never seeing you grow up into a beautiful woman. I’m sorry my goodbye was just a sweetened version of what a scolding would be. I was never good with words unless I was arguing. I’m sorry you’ve never met your father, he was a good man. You meant everything to him. You mean everything to me. Don’t go and fight for our sakes. Please. You are an eight year old girl. Stay with grandpa and grandma, you can’t face the world yet. I love you Mya.

I hope that somehow she got the message.

I closed my eyes, sighing. Ned, I finally get to see you. After 7 years, I finally get to see you again. You told me how you felt about me that day. I’ll never forget those words. I never forgot them. Mya’s safe with my parents. I’m slowly dying Ned. I know what you mean now. How it’s coming and you can’t fight it. It really does hurt. I feel so light, Ned. I’m coming back next to you. Mya loves you. She doesn’t care if she was only a little girl when you passed away. She loves you. See you there. I love you Ned.

Mya: 

April 2000: In the middle of an interview

“How old were you in the Tet Offensive?” asked Mike the reporter.

“A few months old, I don’t remember anything,” I said.

“Okay, let’s skip ahead than, the Fall of Saigon?”

I let out a shaky breath and looked to the side “I was eight,” he band to furiously take notes, “that morning my mom went. She said goodbye. Her voice was distant, but her eyes swollen, on the brink of tear.” I began to laugh to myself. “I was selfish, I still am now. I wanted her to stay with me. I remember crying. After she said everything, she ran out the door To this day, I wished that I stopped her and my dad from going to war.”

“Did you ever meet your dad?” he asked. No, but I’d give anything.

“No, but my mom told me stories. He died at the Tet Offensive,” I said with an informal tone.

“If it’s not too private, can you please give me a story? One about your father?”

“No, I’d like to keep it private,but I can tell you, they always made me cry as a kid, ” I replied. Those will stay private, our little secrets between mom, dad and me.

“One last question, how does this, the war and losing your parents, make you feel?” he asked.

“They killed my parents!” I stood up with such force with a scowling face, that the reporter jumped with surprise. “They held my people captive, sent many to camps, banned some away to make a life for themselves. It was over nothing but land! So many souls will lay there. My mom and my dad will be there forever.”

“Thank you, your story will be up in two days,” he said as he shook my hand.

Mike kept his word, for CNN had featured the story. The day it did, I let my heart out for the first time since I came to America and cried.