Dang Thuy Tram’s Dairies

August 20, 1968. Submitted my application for membership to the Party. I’m not really very happy; actually I’m more angry. Why does this little bourgeoise always experience disappointments like that? Of course some of them are because of my social class, but I can see very clearly something else besides nature. A few people are responsible for finding something to criticize me about, for seeking a way to control me. I don’t know what to do about it. Life is just that way: even if you strive for and get the best results, you often cannot progress as far as a person less capable who got in at the beginning. When Huong was still alive she always encouraged me by (saying): “That is better for the little bourgeoise”. What is better? More difficulties, harder tasks than Huong’s? I am just like an abandoned child who after a long time is returned to the family, but now the new stepmother is very busy caring for her own children and is very cold to the husband’s children. Party! A great kind mother, but of many mothers there is only one mother (not really only one) like the step mother of legend.

August 27, 1968. The results of a serious operation: kidney broken apart, circulation stops, but the urine of the patient becomes normal again. I am supposed to be very happy: a person lives again, but why am I so nonchalant in the face of the patient’s smiles of admiration? One stream of blood is stopped but many streams are running hard, and we must fix the wounds of our country’s body first! The Americans are just like bloodthirsty demons that bite us when we are not paying attention. When we chase them all away then the blood will stop flowing.

August 29. 1968. I received a letter from Phuong* in Quy Nhon. I never met my beautiful niece, but I love her because of her enthusiasm and her life. In the early spring she followed the troops and was attacked by the Americans. They shot her, captured her and imprisoned her. She just escaped, but is still very weak and cannot return (to duty).

Reading her long letter with the soft handwriting. Phoung was Khiem’s classmate. She loved and respected him. If Khiem were still alive I would like them to fall in love with each other. Today Phuong returned from prison, but Khiem is already dead. My dear Phuong, as you wrote, it is fortunate that all those who perished did so with honor. We have to live with fire, flames, hate, and burning, our hearts hot, and have to use this flame to burn the enemy. Remember Phuong; remember this piece of our land has been soaked with blood and tears for 21 years already.

August 30, 1968. With news every day of victories from North and South, happiness fills my heart, but sadness is heavy in my mind. Why? Because the American pirates are still here so there is still mourning; because while they are here, there can be no happiness at all.

Lien came to me and asked why I treated M as I have been treating him until now. You ask me why? There are thousands and thousands of reasons, and I don’t know how I could have decided to act differently. Do you think I am not sad? No, the smile on my face is not a smile in my heart. I don’t want to continue to think about all of that because the more I think about it the sadder I am. Who can I believe now? Believe M or believe the hundreds and thousands of discussions about my story which surround me? Who should I follow? Follow my dream or be practical the way so many suggest?

Don’t ask me again: the sounds of the guns on the battlefield are waking us. Please listen carefully to the sounds of the guns and follow orders: “All for the front lines in order to gain victory”.

September 1, 1968. Sent a present to a friend. Very sad: I don’t want to send anything material to anyone and the recipient doesn’t really want to accept anything that is material. But why do I just send a present without any word, without explanation, with only a friendly comment?

Who can understand my heart? The heart of this girl is filled with sorrow and love, but at the same time is very hard and proud regarding this problem. A short conversation today, but for what? Didn’t you learn anything from that Thuy? No, there never was a lesson as hard and unreasonable as that one. That is the one thing… the only thing that I don’t understand is why jealousy seems to be an essential part of mankind. If it is essential, then why am I sad about it? Here is an office, a school, where difficulties and hardships constantly challenge a petty bourgeoise like me. What does it matter if I enjoyed happiness a lot and now must be tested by all the hardships of life? How must I live now? Best is to raise my head and live with pure, clean love, and with my own beautiful ideas, keeping the strong, communist spirit, a spirit transparent as glass, diamond hard and bright, following thousands and thousands of (other) believing hearts.