I stayed with them for several days as my fever started to subside. One day an enemy plane flew very close, crossing the empty space between the mountains, and the husband pulled his wife and daughter behind a big rock to hide. The elderly man had long black hair that reached his shoulders, and his body was as lean as a khoop tree after a farm fire—I noticed this clearly as he stood next to their lean-to hut slicing strips from a hanging chunk of dried meat. He’d throw the meat at the dogs—Lu and his female friend were fed well.
After five days, when I started to regain some strength, I learned from the Montagnard man how to trap animals. His trapping techniques were simple yet effective; it wasn’t surprising that his house was full of hanging cured meat. He taught me how to chop down bamboo trees to make sharp stakes. Lu and his friend helped us track the animals, sniffing out their muddy prints on the sides of tree trunks. We chose narrow paths where wild animals crossed and planted sharp bamboo stakes that were as high as a deer’s chest. We also collected ant eggs. There were lots of ant colonies scattered around the jungle, little mounds made of leaves that we sliced open like a melon, letting the eggs fall and collect on a piece of banana leaf. Ant eggs smelled really good and were tasty when baked in banana leaf. I learned later that some bugs had rare vitamins that humans couldn’t produce in their own bodies. That was why I recovered so quickly from the malaria.
After my stay with the Montagnards, I had newfound respect for Lu—he knew where to find food and even where to satisfy his dog’s lust, but he still had returned to save me.
Over a year went by. It was now 1975. A week before Tet, our squad was ordered to participate in a meeting. It had been a long time since we’d reunited with the rest of the battalion, and I was happy to see some old friends. Lu seemed excited as well. He sniffed everyone he came across, trying to recognize their typical soldier’s smell. He didn’t know, of course, that we were about to fight a big battle. Fighting was business as usual for us. But still we couldn’t bounce around happily like Lu. We cleaned our guns, adjusted bayonets, and sharpened daggers. The officers handed out extra grenades and bullets.
In the early morning, an order was issued: kill all animals, no exception. More than a dozen chickens and a pig that belonged to the combat logistics unit were transferred to the kitchen. The cook would slaughter them and chop the meat into small pieces, then mix the pieces with salt to make dried food rations.
As dawn broke, the cook came to our squad to take Lu, who had no idea what was going on. The cook slid a rope around Lu’s neck and tried to pull him away, but Lu resisted, snarling, rearing back, refusing to move. Of course none of us could interfere—it was an order. Finally, Hanh told Tam to take Lu to the kitchen.
“Why me?” Tam asked. He looked at the rest of us, bewildered.
Tam and the cook started walking toward the kitchen, and Lu followed them.
I lay down on my hammock and covered myself with a blanket, but it was no use. I couldn’t get the image of Lu out of my mind. After a few minutes I got back up and ran to the camp kitchen. Tam was already coming back.
“Did he kill Lu?” I asked, almost frantic.
“Not yet,” Tam said. “But I can’t stand looking at him.”
“Follow me,” I said.
We approached the kitchen from the back and saw the cook tying Lu to a tree. Lu lifted his head and stared at the cook. He had a rock in his hand—he was going to use it to bash Lu in the head. Meanwhile, Lu wagged his tail in excitement and licked the cook’s wrist.
I felt heartbroken. Then, all of a sudden, I spotted a small bottle of gasoline and a thought popped into my head. Without hesitating, I grabbed the gasoline and threw it in the direction of the stove. After a few seconds, there was an explosion and smoke curled up two meters high.
“Fire! Fire!” Tam shouted.
The cook dropped the rock he was holding and rushed to take care of the fire.
I went to the tree and took out my dagger to cut the rope around Lu’s neck.
“Run, run fast,” I said, tapping him on the butt. For a moment his familiar wet nose rested against my neck. I could feel him staring up at me, hesitant. Then finally he ran away.
That evening a military truck came. It rained heavily, the last rains of the rainy season. As we were infantry soldiers, it was our first time being transported by truck. The rumor was that this battle would take place in the biggest city in the highlands, which was hundreds of kilometers away. We had to get there quickly. The truck started driving and plunged into the darkness of the night. But I could see Lu jumping out there in the dark, trying to run after us. I sat up in my seat, and so did Hanh and Hoang. Lu was like a shadow trailing behind us, rainwater splashing around his paws. “Go back to the Montagnard girl’s family, go back to the jungle,” I said to him. I turned around until Lu’s shadow finally vanished in the dark.
They dropped us off about ten kilometers from Buon Me Thuot City. We walked quietly. We headed directly to the airport, where General Phu’s seasoned special forces stood guard. I had no knowledge of how other units had done in previous battles in this city, but in order to seize half the airport our unit ended up losing several soldiers. The enemy, aided by A37
