Here and There In The Homeland

Darren Thăng

Author’s note: This story is dedicated to my father, who blessed me to make it a successful accomplishment. This English version is only a summary of the whole story.

Like many young men during the war, my father was enlisted into the army for 3 years under President Ngo Dinh Diem’s government after migrating to the South not long ago. In 1954, he was about 19-20 years old and recently got married to my mother while living in North Vietnam. At that time, they were a young couple without children and liked to stay around each other. My mother was a shy woman and always relied on my dad’s decisions, so wherever his station was located, she would go along with him. My father was transferred to many places, especially some areas like the first (I) and second (II) Corps of the Republic of Vietnam (had 4 Division Corps before 1975). He was a straightforward man, not willing to crawl under his commander’s authority, so he was often sent somewhere far away. It was good luck if his station was nearby a small town for a few months and bad luck if it was in a jungle for a long time. In some remote areas with harmful environments and hardly any local villagers, he would go alone without his wife. Gradually, some of us were born a few years later in the army barracks, and we had considered those places as our main home after growing up.

My father traveled around to several cities like Hue, Da Nang and the central highlands of Vietnam. But, none of those places impressed me as much as the Training Area of Duc My (especially the Training Center of Rangers) and the city of Tuy Hoa, the Phu Yen province. In 1965 or 1966, I just turned 5 years old and can only remember a little bit about those places. However, some memoirs regarding the Training Center of Rangers kept coming back into my mind since my childhood, just like if I had been through a soldier’s life. I still remember the place where some of my friends (children of training officers) and I used to watch many military cadets who were practicing the basic training of rangers. For example, the wire of terror, the zip line, the rope bridge and the rope climb. The kids often teased about the zip line training for rangers as: “Out of control and no brakes”, which used a wired cable to slide across the wide stream. Point A, at the beginning of the wire, was always higher than point B at the end. First of all, a cadet would climb up to the location of point A and get ready to go. His hands would grasp a handle that was hooked up to a pulley and wired cable. The cadet would pull both of his legs up and lean his body toward the back to force some movement then, the pulley would start to roll quickly down to the other side of the stream bank. The pulley would drag down the wired cable and create noisy friction due to the movement of a body. When a cadet reached the middle of the stream, the cable would slack downward. An instructor would stand on the other side of the bank and begin to wave his red flag. The cadet would freefall into the water with a sound of splashing. The cadet either swam to the stream bank or was picked up by a canoe. The funny thing was that all the cadets had to wear their uniforms and army boots during their practice, so it was hard for them to swim. In other practice sites, cadets would have to walk on a rope bridge that had two strings on both sides for a limited amount of time. That is all I can remember about it. I don’t know if my memory is actually accurate or not. In general, cadets practiced on their training lessons. The children who lived in the barrack had their own playground. I remember that somebody tied a large rope from one tree to another, so that the children could swing across a lowly stream. The children, one by one, would grasp the rope and swing their bodies to the middle of the stream and jump down. Some children were usually seen taking showers under a waterfall during noon time. There was lots of water falling from the rocks above and the water seemed to look clear. The refreshing water was very cool. Today, I think about the Training Area of Duc My many times and say that it was a lot of fun.

Mentioning the city of Duc My is speaking about a place with natural spring water. In many places within the Training Area of Duc My, you can find waterfalls, lakes and streams anywhere. The majority of the troops’ relatives, who were stationed in the Training Area of Duc My, drank mineral water, but used lake water for bathing and laundry. A curiosity that I often question myself until now is what was the duty of my father at the Training Area of Duc My (Special the Training Center of Rangers in particular) in 1965? What was his role in the training center that allowed him to bring his wife and children to live there? Also, I do not know how long our family stayed in the center. My father was neither a Chief Officer nor a training instructor. Not once in my life did I see him wear his uniform or garrison combat uniform. He did not wear any medal at all. Until he passed away, he did not once mention, boast or reveal anything about his military background. I also never asked him about it. I feel regret now because, sometimes, I need some detailed facts to verify my story (Young readers should pay attention about this experience). Once in a while, he felt very happy and sang a song of pre-war which was called “The Letter”. "Few lines send him affectionately, recently the village has notice. Saying that your country is expecting of you, go army is a patriot man...". Actually, I’ve only seen him as an enthusiastic combat medic. He may have been an army medic in the past and later a registered nurse (a high position for men at that time). He had an average height and was muscular, a typical handsome man like the image of Brigadier General Tran Van Hai. Looking at his appearance, many believed that he held a senior officer position, if coincidently someone met him in the Training Center of Rangers. But in reality, he was just one of the ordinary employees, like other public servants.

Our family left for the city of Tuy Hoa, Phu Yen province in 1966. According to my parents, before we moved to The Training Area of Duc My, we used to live in this city. It was hard to recall the memory. This time, we were no longer living in the army barracks (this barrack is now called the Vietnam people's army). My dad was discharged from the army and transferred to civilian work for the Hospital of Phu Yen. My parents rented a brick house in run down condition, which was located in the second ward of the city, Tuy Hoa. The house’s siding was worn down with lime and mold. The living room floor was installed with old tiles and its kitchen was bare with dirt. We used wood for cooking. The entrance door had no door knob. We used a wooden pin for locking on the inside to stay safe at night and a chain lock on the outside when we were going to the market. Some of the surrounding neighbors were the Civilian Irregular Defense Group (CIDG) and the Vietnamese Rangers. Looking at our neighborhood, people would think that this was another army barrack, except with no barbed wire around it. There was no military officer living in the neighborhood. They did not even want to live with the troops because it would lower their value. The Vietnamese Rangers and their families were very nice people. Their skin was very dark, which misled us into calling them Cambodian. Their language dialect was similar like the Khmer and they all spoke our Vietnamese language with their heavy accent. I found out that they were the ethnic minority of Rhade while living in America. They tried to live in peace with everyone. My family was no longer intact to the army unit anymore, but they still treated us like their buddy soldiers. The Vietnamese Rangers were considered very poor and only relied on their husband's wages. They respected my father very much because he often injected medical drugs for their families without charging anything. So when they had anything tasty, they often called my father to come over for fun. There was nothing delicious to eat at all. Frog fruits (Ambarella), mangoes, guava and a few homemade alcoholic beverages to drink…just have a good time, you drink your cup and I’ll drink mine. Once in awhile, they trapped a black pig with its saggy belly or hunted deer and porcupine in the forest to bring home. The housewife’s neighbors called each other out together to make some dishes such as barbecue or fake dog meat, etc. Their infamous dishes were barbecue with the sound of fat burning, hissing when the fire picking up off the pitch together. It was very fun. However, it was rare to have a piece of deer meat. A venison cut was very thin, usually sundried on a mesh knit and sprinkled with sesame. Generally, they always shared good things with each other with their simple mind. Nice things to share, bad things to burden.

Opposite from my house was a man who made the Vietnamese candy pulling (kẹo kéo) to sell every noon. He used one of his house’s pillars to make candy pulling with peanuts mixed in between. He wrestled a few pounds of candy on the trunk column together, and then stretched it into a thin silk candy pulling, which had become long and flexible. At first, the candy pulling’s color was opaque gold, which may have been made by private cane or sugar. Whipping back and forth the candy pulling on the column several times, the candy slowly turned to an opaque white. By following and watching the candy pulling’s composition and process, our tongues got a bit watery. The children would ask their moms for money to buy the candy and say some good compliments about it. Sometimes, we bought extra candy for our friends to eat for fun. We, however, had never paid any attention to his pillar, which was so dirty with blowflies and disinfectant. Just to see the delicious candy, then buy and eat it. Usually at every noon, we must wait and watch the candy pulling process until he finished his products. Some children in Vietnam in the old day saw something delicious with sweet cravings, but couldn’t afford it and felt the lack.

The Vietnamese Rangers were a tough force in 1965-1967. With their badge, the "Tiger Three First Ran", they were considered the elite infantry unit, a well-trained and strong force like the Airborne and Marine Divisions. In the early years, the Vietnamese (ARVN) Rangers Federation had not been reorganized into the ranger border because the rangers belonged to the ethnic minority people who were not stationed at the border forts. They lived in the city of Tuy Hoa and were our neighbors, until the U.S. forces handed over the border camps to the Army of the Republic of Vietnam (ARVN) in the late of 1970. Many times, when they went into combat operations, the Vietnamese Rangers were mostly victorious. Each time they won a battle, they threw a party and danced in their ethnic’s customs. Often, I had seen other infantry soldiers die, but not with my rangers’ neighbors. The majority of my rangers’ neighbors used talismans for self protection. They usually wore a few pieces of enchantment cloths, wild boar tusks or something like human ears around their necks. Sometimes, I asked them, “What is it?” They made funny jokes with me that they were the ears of dead Viet Cong. The rangers, however, could not avoid their enemy’s bullets forever. The war escalated and the soldiers would also be sacrificed, sooner or later. Some of them died on their next operation. Their wives mourned about their death and suffering, so my family felt much sympathy towards them. Some people offered money and others contributed assistance at their funerals. I still wonder now about how some of the rangers were guessing when they would be sacrificed in their next battle. Some ethnic minority people (origin Rhade) preferred not to be buried under the ground, unlike the normal Vietnamese’s funeral tradition. Their bodies would be cremated, like the Champa’s custom, or be carried back home into the Highlands of the Darlac province. My neighbor had more than a dozen residents who belonged to the rangers of the ethnic minority people, gradually becoming lesser as the time flew by.

Living anywhere, everyone would have happy and sad memories. However, born and raised in a war torn country, you would have more sadness than fun. On the left side of our ranger neighbor was the Cathedral of Tuy Hoa, which was located on higher ground. The Church was built in the early 1960s, in the Western architecture style that looked beautiful. Especially, the Bell Tower, which was tall and with its red tiled roof in an A frame. Looking from the slope of the hill at our neighbors, the cathedral resembled an oil painting picture on canvas, like some villages in Europe. After heavy rain in the summer, the sunrise reflected off the sea. We often saw rainbows with seven iridescent colors on the cathedral skyline, which looked very nice. Around the Church in those years, there were no nearby residents, so it obviously became a good target for Communist shelling. On one early morning, the Communist’s artillery made a big hole on the red tiled roof of the Church at around 4 or 5 A.M. At that time, no one arrived at the church yet. The next morning, the pastor and parishioners looked at the scene. Many people accused the Communist as criminals of war because the pastor and the inhabitants didn’t have enough money to repair the damage. In the following week, the red tiled roof was covered with a few pieces of metal to block the sun and precipitation. The area around the church was used as a playground for the children to play with each other.

On the right side of our ranger neighbor was the Pagoda of Bao Tinh, situated on a wide and flat ground site. The Pagoda of Bao Tinh had three main gate entrances. Cars could run in and out easily. The temple was built in 1962 on Phan Dinh Phung Street, which was very close to our neighbors. Both sides of the street were planted with willow trees. The ocean breeze blew on the willow and pine tree’s leaves, so that they were always making a slamming sound all day and night. Within a radius of vast circumference around the temple, very few people seemed to patron around. The temple had 3 lotus lakes on the left side. Some lakes had too many lotuses, which made the water an opaque green, so no one could take a bath. For other lakes, the water seemed to be cleaner and that was the place where kids usually hung around to swim without permission. All of the lakes had signs of “banned swimming”, but did not prevent the children living in the region, who liked to swim. Small boys often followed the teenagers to go swimming mostly every day. The fathers worked hard for the money to raise their families. The mothers stayed at home to take care of the baby and did house work. They did not know that their children were skipping school to play elsewhere. Every noon, boys often took off their shirts and jumped right into the lake, but not many of them knew how to swim. Some spots of the lotus lakes were deeper than the average height of a 6-7 year old Asian boy. Many small boys followed the teenagers, who jumped right into the lake, with the thought that it was a piece of cake. In some cases, they swallowed a lot of water and sank down under the lake, but unfortunately some teenagers could not save them in time. Then, the Buddhist monks were called out from the temple to rescue the drowning kids. Sometimes, it was too late and the monks just picked up the body from the lake. Their parents brought the body home for a proper burial. Despite this trouble, however, the kids didn’t learn their lesson. They repeated that problem over again and so did I. Since my family moved around to many places in the homeland, I couldn’t catch up on school, which made me fail one grade. I stayed back in one class that compared to my peers. It was the hardest memory in my life with this ironic joke phrase: "Do no education when little, you would become a captain in ARVN when grow up!" Presently, I don’t know if the Pagoda of Bao Tinh still has those lotus lakes anymore.

My father often worked two or three nights a week at the Hospital of Phu Yen province. The hospital was located in the North and on the left side of Tran Hung Dao Street, which was quite far away from Center City of Tuy Hoa. The street was built along the Pacific Coast and both sides were planted with pine trees. Some nights around 8 P.M, my dad rode 1 or 2 of his children on his motorcycle toward the hospital to be with him. The noise of ocean waves from the high sea crashed onto the shore and the wind blew rapidly on the willow and pine tree’s leaves, which made us feel terrified. The streetlights in some areas were very dim. It did not accommodate the drivers at all. The main lights actually came from motorcycle fog lamps. I always saw some moving shadows on the streets from passing motorcycles lights, like phantoms. Perhaps, this may be an illusion, which reflected the illumination of white sand. We felt scared because the road was often too secluded with very few vehicles passing by at night. Even adults could be intimidated, just like kids when facing this situation. I remember that the Hospital of Phu Yen province had many high rise floors, which were painted white. The front of the hospital faced the Pacific Ocean. Around the hospital were also planted with several tall willow and pine trees and most of the facility areas covered with white sand. In 1966-67, the hospital had only one large building standing by itself. There were no residents residing nearby the hospital. According to my young memory, the hospital was operated by the city to serve its citizens, but it sometimes could serve the soldiers as well. The city of Tuy Hoa at night was very quiet. The beach of Tuy Hoa had long strips of flat white sand, but did not attract many visitors because it was situated next to the famous beach of Nha Trang. Other reasons could be that the country was still at war and people were unlikely to travel or take a vacation. On one occasion at sunset, I spotted a navy ship landing on the beach with a large group of combat soldiers, who carried guns and ammunition on their bodies. There were only a few civilians who visited the beach and stood by watching around the hospital.

Speaking about food, the City of Tuy Hoa also had many great dishes, like oysters (blood cockle) grilled on charcoal, which were sold at kiosks on the street in the evening. Just eat it one time and you would never forget about the taste. I watched some guys drink “Beer 33”. They sipped the juice of oysters, dashed with a little salt/pepper and lemon juice. They looked very enjoyable in life, even during the war. The soldiers, who were usually stationed at Tuy Hoa, probably still remembered this dish. Along the Central Coast, there were also a lot of sand dunes. Walking on the sand, your feet would get stuck in it and possibly get sun burn, like being in the desert. These memories were probably simple, but today, I would like to write something about it to remember the place I used to live in.

Living in the City of Tuy Hoa a second time (not for long), my dad transferred again to the Hospital of Bien Hoa. At this hospital, my father worked together with Australian and American doctors to learn about the Western medical style. One Australian doctor gave him a boomerang. Some American physicians gave him a bottle of whisky on one Christmas Holiday. They often drank Budweiser together in their farewell parties. However, the most important thing about the City of Bien Hoa was that it was close to Saigon, the city where his parents lived. Except for the city of Saigon, there was no other place like the Training Area of Duc My and the City of Tuy Hoa where I had many great memories during my childhood. Despite living there for a short period of time and understanding a little bit about the environments, the image of the Vietnamese Rangers who belonged to the ethnic minority people, were truly nice people. They lived in such a free way, not worrying about anything. They spent whatever of their soldier wages they earned, almost immediately. The best thing about them was that they served their country bravely, fearless and not afraid to die at all. The Vietnamese Rangers sacrificed their lives a lot during the Vietnam War. They deserve to be honored as National Heroes!

My father served at the Hospital of Bien Hoa for about 3 years, then transferred to the National Institute of Rehabilitation, which was located at 70 Ba Huyen Thanh Quan Street, District 3, Saigon. There, he served as a Chief Nurse and assisted in the function of false limb replacements for disabled Veterans. He also served sick children born with birth defects with his dignity and enthusiasm. He remained in service for some time until after the event of April 30, 1975 and got laid off the job. In the summer of 1991, I sponsored my family to immigrate to America and they decided to settle in Southern California, where many of my father’s relatives resided. More than 10 years later, my dad was contracted with cancer disease. It was probably from drinking bad water with a lot of mosquito malaria or contact with wounded soldiers during their surgery with the lack of disinfection when he was a combat medic. He died in October 2003 in Southern California. Today, I have a chance to write a story to thank my father, who often brought us along through the impoverished central highlands of Vietnam and lived closer with some of the soldiers in the Army of the Republic of Vietnam (ARVN), for understanding their suffering, witness their struggles and sympathize their tremendous losses during the Vietnam War.

Note: ARVN stands for the Army of the Republic of Vietnam.

Darren Thăng




 


 


VĂN CHƯƠNG

Cây viết Bất Khuất

Thuyền đời
Highway of Heroes
Nắng ấm quê hương
Truyện dài Bất Khuất
Thuyền đời ơi !
Những thằng chúng tôi
Bài thơ trên đồi Bác sĩ Tín
Viên đạn vang rền
Chuyện t́nh trái ngang
Khối diễn hành
Băi tập
Lễ măn khóa
Một Đời Bất Khuất
Kỷ niệm Quân Trường - Về phép
Kỷ niệm Quân Trường - Cúp phép
Hồi tưởng chiến trường 1062 Thượng Đức
Dọc đường gió bụi
T́nh Bất Khuất
Ngày xưa thân ái
Tôi đi lính
Bất Khuất
Quan Âm Tây Du Hí truyện
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Hạ cờ tây
Thù dai
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Tâm thư của Cố Thiếu Úy Trần Văn Quí
Trận Ô-Căm
Một lần vĩnh biệt
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Nhớ về mái trường xưa
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Những ngày tháng không quên
Tự do ơi, tự do!
V́ hai chữ Tự Do
Ngh́n trùng cách biệt
Thầy Chín
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TPB Những mảnh đời bất hạnh
Mùa Đông năm ấy
Người Lính Việt Nam Cộng Ḥa qua những t́nh khúc bất tử của Một Thời Chinh Chiến
Phi vụ cuối cùng
Những người tù cuối cùng
Lửa máu hận thù
Người Lính VNCH trong kho tàng âm nhạc Việt Nam
Mẹ VN ơi - Chúng con vẫn c̣n đây
Khi người ta gọi bác của tôi, ba tôi và anh tôi là 'giặc' !
Hăy thắp cho anh một ngọn đèn
Chiếc áo phong sương t́nh anh nặng
Người lính VNCH trong nhạc sỉ Trần Thiện Thanh
Đêm hỗn mang
Ngỡ ngàng đời chiến sĩ
Chuyện nhớ trong đời
Để ghi nhớ tháng 4 đen
Nỗi đau thời chiến
Cọp rằn Chương Thiện
Quà cho con trong tù
Những gịng sông lịch sử đời người
Một người đi
Trận cuối 2
KBC 4100 & Tết Mậu Thân
Rừng khóc giữa mùa xuân
Lá thư t́nh của người lính VNCH
Cô con gái quá giang trong đêm mồng một Tết
Lon Guigoz hành trang người tù...
Con chó Vện và người tù cải tạo
Một lần toan tính...
Tấm thẻ bài
3 người chiến binh "homeless"...
Trôi theo vận nước
Trận cuối
Chiến sĩ Kha Tư Giáo
Em không nh́n được xác chàng
Chuyện buồn người vợ tù
Người Việt của tôi - Quận Dĩ An
Sao hôm, sao mai
Những lá thư t́nh
May mà có em
Thằng bé đánh giày người Nghĩa Lộ
May mà có em đời c̣n dễ thương
Gói quà đầu năm
Cây Mai rừng của người Lính Trận
Cánh chim Thần Tượng
Ba ḍng nước mắt
Những xác chết trên mănh đất chữ "S"
Thân phận người lính găy súng
Chuyện vượt ngục ở trại Gia Trung ...
Những mảnh đời dang dở - phần 2, phần 3, phần 4, phần 5, phần 6, phần cuối
Mưa trên Poncho
Người ở lại Saravan
Nhớ hay quên kỷ niệm thời chinh chiến
Vược ngục
Chuyện t́nh khoai lang
Tâm t́nh người lính VNCH tỵ nạn ở Thái Lan
Hồi tưởng ngày Quân Lực 19-6-73
Vinh danh người lính VNCH

Linh tinh

Dị mộng
Nhà thơ Hàn Mặc Tử
Tập thơ "đôi hồ" và một thiên diễm t́nh
Về Quê
Ông già bơi rác
Nhớ thời trường cũ Chu Văn An
Người chú họ của tôi
Tôi bị bắt
Nhớ lắm… những mùa Thu
Những chuyện trời ơi !
Người đồng hương
Bên đời hiu quạnh
Việt Cộng con
Phượng hồng vào Hạ
Sức mạnh của cộng đồng người Việt Quốc Gia hải ngoại
Giai thoại văn chương
Kỷ niệm nỗi trôi cùng trí nhớ
Bà xă đai-ét
Chuyện kể: Một buổi trên đường vượt biển
Những vần thơ chui
Đi t́m Jackpot
Cây cầu biên giới
Ngày giỗ Tổ Hùng Vương
Như những giọt buồn
Một cơn đau tim….và một lần phẫu thuật
Đứa con dị chủng
Bài thơ dang dở
Thất t́nh
Dấu "Hỏi Ngă" trong văn chương Việt Nam
Ngày xưa thân ái...
Gió bụi một thời
Người sợ bóng
Hoàng hôn trên núi Tây
Ư yêu đương
Đêm qua sân trước nở cành mai
Vệt nắng cuối chiều
Đừng yêu người làm thơ
Tết Nguyên Đán
Đừng yêu người làm thơ
Như những vần mây
Đám cưới
Hạnh phúc muộn màng đêm Giáng Sinh
T́nh... tiếc
Giáng Sinh năm nào
Ván cờ ma quỷ
Văn thơ trữ t́nh
Mùa Thu qua thi ca  
Phụ nữ Việt Nam qua Ca Dao
Tháng năm ngoảnh lại
Thu xưa
Thu có sầu chăng sáng nay!
Cơn mưa chiều nay
Xuôi ḍng sông Hương
Nỗi niềm cố cựu
Thiện và Ác
Tóc May sợi vắn sợi dài
Tâm sự tuổi già
Xóm biển
Đi t́m tâm linh
Mấy đoạn đường đời
Tản mạn những giao thoại văn chương
Xin hăy giúp tôi
Con c̣n nợ Ba
Nhăm nhi bầu bạn
Một thời để nhớ
Người quét chợ
Lời tỏ t́nh
Bạn cũ năm mươi năm
Về lại cố hương  
Đường đi không đến
Xương trắng Trường Sơn
Về lại cố hương
Thoáng xưa
Cánh Hoa Ngọc Lan
Bước không qua số phận
Đọc thơ Trạch Gầm
Con Gà ṇi
Con Mèo hay con Thỏ?
Đời vẫn đáng sống
Tết làng tôi
Bầu Bí một giàn
Nghỉ hè ở Mallorca
Chiếc xích lô chở mùa xuân
Em đi để lại con đường
Một thời con gái
Bố tôi và người tù Nguyễn Chí Thiện
Trường ca trang sử Mẹ....
Nỗi đau bẽ bàng
Khi con đường không lối thoát
Những bài ca một thời cuộc đời
Tiếng chuông ái t́nh
Những con cào cào xanh
Nếu chỉ c̣n một ngày để sống
Bố tôi
Thiêng Liêng Như Những Linh Hồn
Giấc mộng dài
Duyên số trời định
49 Ngày với em
Bài ca của người du tử
Tấm vạc giường
Cố hương, 35 năm sau
Vượt biển một ḿnh
Hăy bế em ra khỏi cuộc đời anh
Những Tết năm xưa ở Phan Thiết
Làm thinh
Màu tím trong thơ
Lệ Mừng trên cánh Đồng Chiêm
Thằng cháu nội đích tôn
Chị Cả Bống
Làm rể Ninh Ḥa
Trời đất bao la
Nỗi buồn mùa Thu
Duyên Nam Bắc
Đà-lạt trời mưa
Xót xa
Tiểu thơ
Đôi mắt
Giọt mưa trên tóc
Quê tôi, ngày bé thơ lớn lên
Mùa thu cuộc t́nh
Cây sầu riêng sau vườn cũ
Tản mạn - Về những người bạn
Nh́n những mùa xuân đi...
Quê hương ruồng bỏ
Ba tôi và tôi
Vượt thoát
Made in VietNam
Giọt nước mắt
Ngày vô vị
Khóc lặng thinh
Đời c̣n vui v́ có chút ṭm tem
Đôi mắt Phượng
Ngựi bán liêm sỉ
Bài ca vọng cổ
T́nh già
Buổi chiều ở Thị trấn Sông-Pha
Saigon ngày ấy
Phàm phu tục tử
Thăm quê
Dấu tích ân t́nh
Địch thủ
Tâm
USS Midway - Ông bạn già năm xưa - English
Từ Mỹ, kể chuyện Mỹ Tho
Vài ṿng Thơ, Rượu và Tết
Mùa Xuân uống rượu
T́nh người
Hồi kư của một người Hà Nội
T́nh nghĩa, nghĩa t́nh
Đôi đũa
Gịng đời... và hồi âm gịng đời...
Không cho phép ḿnh quên
Thảm sát trên đảo Trường Sa
Em tôi
12 bến nước
Chào Mẹ
Cháo tóc
Những người không đất đứng
Vợ hiền
Theo ngọn mây Tần
T́nh ngây dại