A Fathers Hardship

This is my father's story. (Yes, me, Trisha Tran.)

He was at home one day and the Viet Cong came and forced him to go to North Vietnam because of the problem they needed help on. If my father did not go, they would kill him. He went, and suffered a lot. The Viet Cong made him do labor: like chop trees and build houses. Eventually he started to have problems like a bruised arm, or twisted leg. Every day he had to walk 10 miles to the area, and 10 miles back home; a total of 20 miles a day.

Most of the time, he was not given any food. Many times, he did not eat for two to three days. He would be so hungry that he would try to find figs or anything that has water or juice in it. When he was thirsty, he would drink off a little stream that is usually located in front of houses. Most of the time, they weren’t clean since other civilians would drink, bathe, and wash clothes in the same stream. His friends that worked in the same area, had to find dead cats or rats to eat because the lack of food. Him and his friends once found a dead rat on the road, and brought it home. His group of friends and him cooked it and shared parts of it. My father was glad that there was something to eat. That was how bad the conditions were.

Once or twice, his hunger would get to him and he would not be able to do labor. The Viet Cong would beat him.

Another day, he did not eat for four days. The Viet Cong made him carry a heavier load of ice, even though they knew of my fathers’ poor health. When he could not carry it, they beat him again.

The Viet Cong would make my father and his friends carry large blocks of ice. They would carry it for three miles to reach the Viet Congs villages to supply them ice. He carried so much that he fell and broke his backbone.

My mother mentioned to me that when I was nine, I was asking why my father’s back was so slouchy. He told me about how he carried ice to the Viet Congs household.

My fathers’ best friend was in extreme bad health. There was no medicine available, therefore the friend died. The Viet Cong made my father and his other friends wrap the body in rags and bury it. The Viet Cong notify the wife; she came and cried at his grave.

My mother walked miles to visit my father. When she arrived, she asked why my father was so skinny, and his eyes were baggy. My father said because there was no food to eat. My mom came the next day with ten pounds of food, and left. Later, the Viet Cong saw my father with food and ate the good part, and left the leftovers for my father.

My father eventually was forced into a reeducation camp in 1975. He was too weak to move, and once again, the Viet Cong beat him. The only way to get out of the Viet Congs control was to be sent and survive in jail.

Once my dad and his friends were hungry, they scavenged for lizards and snakes. Along with that, he found vegetables.

My father came home in 1985. After many years, my mother had my two twin sisters, and was pregnant with me. They were still trying to adjust to life in poverty. In order to buy milk for my sisters, my mother and father had to sell their wedding ring. When they bought the milk, the discovered it was fake. My sisters started to get bad stomach aches.

My parents managed to go to America in 1993, I was one year old.

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Read BaoChaos thread to see what was up today. I accidentally deleted and saved my post.
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