Commemorating of November 1, 1963, to see that President Ngo Dinh Diem is still loved | NAMDUONGTV

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President Ngo Dinh Diem and his brother died on November 2, 1963. Nearly 60 years later, many people still cherish him. And I don't know, the young faces who participated in the "revolutionary day" that year, what did they think about that day?
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Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Nam Duong TV.
In today's program, we invite you to follow the little-known details
about the grand moments of the late Ngo Dinh Diem and Bao De.
Thank you, Thuy My, for being lucky enough to witness and tell the story of the author Ly Bich Phuong,
the witness of a historic event on November 2, 1963.
Thuy My also remembers very clearly that afternoon,
there was a cloud of white clouds flying in the sky,
with a gentle sun shining down on the ground,
the wind blowing on the top of the grass,
the scene was as calm and normal as it had been in the past three afternoons.
It is certain that a little later,
Thuy My, Ngoc Lan, and her three friends would become a few rare people
to witness a special event,
engraved as a historical sign.
From the beginning to the end of this grand event,
there have been many debates, many theories,
many judgments, many suspicions,
but hundreds of hearsay are not equal to what is seen
about the great figures related to the history of Vietnam.
It was a fateful afternoon,
extremely painful and tragic,
from November 2, 1963.
Mr. Tran Trung Dung, former Minister of Defense,
during the time of President Ngo Dinh Diem,
Mr. Dung called the phone to Nam An Ton's house.
In Nam's house, there were Trung, Thach, Thuy My, Ngoc Lan,
sitting near the working table.
Nam picked up the phone and handed it to Mr. Tobias, the housekeeper.
After a while of talking,
Mr. Tobias's voice became worried, confused,
and confused, as if there was something terrible.
Finally, Mr. Tobias took a deep breath,
released the phone, and the pen fell into the bookcase.
Mr. Tobias looked at everyone,
his eyes were teary, and then he stopped talking.
The president and the advisor died at 11.15.
They read to me clearly from the death certificate of the two men,
created by the Grand Commissioner,
the Chief Medical Officer,
and the Chief Investigator.
The two men died in a long-distance vehicle M113,
number 80989,
by the order of Mr. Duong Van Minh,
who was killed by Nguyen Van Nhung.
The house was in chaos.
Everyone looked at each other.
Everyone rushed to evacuate.
Everyone rushed to evacuate in the living room,
turned on the radio and listened.
The General Assembly,
led by Lieutenant General Duong Van Minh,
was successful.
Mr. Minh said,
I temporarily lead the country.
The Saigon radio station only played the evening news,
but always said,
Mr. Diem's brothers are hiding or escaping somewhere.
Not to mention,
Mr. Ba hurried to find someone to call for a funeral
to prepare the funeral for President Diem
and Mr. Van Nhung.
At Mr. Ba's warehouse,
there are many beautiful and expensive boxes,
but not excellent.
There is a box of the best quality wood,
very rare,
with an additional box inside.
Mr. Ba wanted to leave this box for Mr. Van Nhung.
In addition,
there is a beautiful,
new,
wooden box of the US military,
made of light wood,
with two layers.
Outside is a glossy paint layer,
inside is a thin,
soft layer like a bed sheet.
The box can be easily opened,
closed with a glass,
revealing the face of the deceased.
Let yourself look at the last minute,
the box has a handle on the side.
If the body is cold,
it can be exposed to the outside.
In Vietnam,
there has never been such a modern box.
It turned out to be a very luxurious,
beautiful,
rare box,
which will be the second
of a group of Americans who died in Vietnam,
but do not know why,
they left that coffin
in the cold room of the cold room in Tan Son Nhat airport.
Coincidentally,
Mr. Ba went to work and saw,
too bad,
so Mr. Ba begged,
bargaining under the name of the funeral manager,
he bought it back,
brought it to display in his store,
for fun.
Whoever came to buy a high price,
he did not sell.
So Mr. Ba decided,
only President Ngo Dinh Diem
deserves to rest in peace there.
Both boxes were brought out to clean,
tidy, clean.
In their house,
ready to wait for orders.
Nearly 4 pm,
Mr. Tran Trung's phone rang.
He was happy to bring the coffin
to the St. Paul Hospital,
Tu Xuan Street,
absolutely not crowded,
only one coffin each time.
Mr. Ba asked,
should I get another car
to go far away from the other car?
No.
Carrying one coffin,
half an hour apart,
bring the first one first.
Bring the first special coffin.
They meant to say the first one
was the coffin of President Diem,
would be taken first.
The car slowly rolled over.
There were 3 coffin pickers on the car,
5, My and Thach,
Trung, Lan,
plus 4 mourners.
The car rushed into the empty street,
as if walking in the city of death,
or the time of death,
the army's blood was boiling.
On the way to Tu Xuan Street,
My just saw the government police
let the police guard the scene
standing guard at all corners.
The jeep drove straight into the house.
In addition to the brothers,
5, Thach, Trung, My, Lan,
3 shop owners, Tobias,
and 4 mourners,
there were 2 more coffins,
probably in this hospital.
Plus the wife of the president's niece,
who was holding the camera.
When the car drove inside,
a coffin was wrinkled,
peeking at the back door,
looking at the coffin,
frightened,
like someone did something sinister.
I don't know.
It seems that the previous coffin
quickly closed the door immediately.
In the house,
there was only a dim yellow light,
hanging all over the ceiling.
4 mourners brought a special coffin
on a stone wall in the house.
They waited about an hour later,
there was a red car,
like a soldier's,
that is, horse-like,
straightened the cake, poured the smoke.
The wife of the gatekeeper,
suddenly opened the door of the house.
From the car,
there were 4 soldiers jumping down.
They hurriedly made the car
shake and jump.
There was a man on it,
also jumping and shaking quickly.
They put the car straight inside,
put it on the ground,
didn't look at anyone or say anything.
They hurriedly turned around,
jumped into the car.
The doggy,
horse-like,
screamed,
heard the creaking of the wheels,
rushed away in the silence of the sea.
At that moment,
the whole group immediately came
and stood next to the car.
The person on the car
was the late president
of the first province of the South Vietnam Republic,
Ngô Đình Diệm,
born in 1901,
died in 1963.
On his face, a green vest,
a dark green jacket with white dots.
Under his feet,
he wore a black shoe.
On the other foot,
there was only a white T-shirt.
The whole suit was covered in blood.
On the president's head,
there was a deep wound
from the wound on the top of his head,
covered in blood.
He lay there,
naturally,
silent,
as if the president
was in a peaceful sleep,
not bothered,
not in pain.
The light flashed,
so the foreign nephew
had clicked a few photos,
pretending that he was trembling,
trembling,
afraid,
worried,
or something.
But he quickly hid the camera,
did not take more pictures,
but stopped.
Or he saw the scene of the blood
spread like that,
really scary and painful,
so he could not hold his weight,
moved,
hurt,
covered in bruises.
The priest,
when the day came,
placed on a stone,
carefully,
there were two layers of white cloth.
The three owners told everyone
and the two priests,
please take cotton,
compress,
fill it with alcohol,
clean it gently,
clean it,
clean the blood stains very carefully
for the president to help me.
They showed their respect,
kindness,
thoughtfulness,
cleaned the clothes of the president
on the short day,
the four priests worked hard,
at the end of the day,
to practice the day properly.
The third owner,
humbly read the prayer
for the soul of the deceased.
She clasped the president's hand
behind the box of flowers.
It seemed that the president had just died,
so his two hands
were gently closed easily
to keep the chain,
as if he were meditating,
reading the sutra.
Everyone was still breathing,
having the impression that the heart was out of beat.
The breath of the breath was gentle,
suffocating and bitter,
breaking the table and shaking,
the pain was terrible,
the wound was deep,
the sorrow was vague
for the short life of the deceased.
They did not have time to cover the box,
then the car,
which had just arrived at the funeral home,
the big door was opened by the old lady,
the soldiers rushed in,
carrying the second body.
The old lady quickly closed the door.
It was the teacher, Mr. Ngo Dinh Nhu,
wearing a white shirt,
his hands were covered with blood,
his shirt was in clean brown pants,
he had a bandage on his back,
his shoes were cream-colored.
Mr. Nhu's face was gloomy,
he seemed to be unhappy,
his eyes were high,
he had a lot of wrinkles,
his lips were tight,
no one saw that Mr. Nhu had a calm, peaceful face,
like a normal face of a British man.
He was lying a little tilted to one side,
he had a lot of bruises on his back,
the soldier's bayonet knife,
blood was still coming out of those wounds.
On the head, there were two holes on the sun,
that was a bullet mark,
going from this side to the other.
The funeral work was also done carefully,
but a little faster than the last time.
The atmosphere at this time was really terrible,
completely silent,
it seemed that everyone breathed very lightly,
they were afraid that every heartbeat
would come from the bottom of their hearts,
which they had kept deep in their hearts,
to mourn a survivor.
When the two stood on the top of the hill,
who was there when they died,
it was too sad, far away.
Or those who witnessed the pain of the other,
will make the atmosphere close to silence,
where people have really stepped
to the ruined grass, thousands of bushes far away.
The result was a boundary between life and death,
only separated by a long, thin, and thin hair,
separated by an unshapely, ordinary path,
as fragile as a bone,
but the people in those two boundaries
could not do anything else.
The people on this border could not face,
touch the border on the other side,
and could not know more about each other.
It was a small, ordinary image,
very lonely of the present man,
facing the high superposition of life and death.
The result was nothing,
when his body became immobile,
shaky, like a broken image,
which was extremely vivid, realistic,
and too sad.
My, Lan, Nam, Tony, Thach, Trung
will never forget,
never blur the image of his injury in their minds,
because it was too real, too coincidental.
Accidentally, I witnessed a historical event in the century.
My consciousness was clear,
life was too fragile,
like a white cloud,
flying through the sky,
like a tree, all alone in the storm,
when the wind is cold, it's not easy at all.
I felt tired,
my heart was beating so fast,
my neck was aching.
She pulled me, Nam, Tony, Thach, Trung,
out of the house,
and went back to Phan Thanh Giang,
hoping to breathe easier and more relaxed.
At that moment,
I saw a group of people,
wearing warm clothes,
pulling each other down the street.
They were walking,
holding hands,
shouting,
They went straight to Phan Thanh Giang's mansion,
owned by the Minister of Internal Affairs,
Bui Van Luong,
who used to hold the position of General Secretary,
General Secretary of Migration in 1954.
They broke into Mr. Luong's house,
broke the door,
everything in the house,
everything was swept away.
I even saw some people
carrying two Japanese dogs.
The dog was afraid to look around,
but it wanted to find its owner.
The protestors began to shoot again,
fire in the yard.
Fortunately, at that time,
the police arrived in time.
Oh, my friends,
Phuong Phuong was successful then,
all the people have now escaped
the family system that treated them stupidly.
But then it's up to whom to go,
go up and go down,
go through and go back,
what will happen?
I would like to leave the answer for history
from now and the following years to reflect.
Hearing the voice of the owner,
Tobia called,
the brothers hurried back to the house,
when two Apu Lan cars
came to pick up the coffins of their stupid brothers.
They told the driver,
come to the Ministry of Internal Affairs.
For security reasons,
the military council should be killed
by the Ministry of Internal Affairs.
Using a letter of 836 TTM on VV
on November 7, 1963,
by Mr. Tran Trung Dung,
he was forced to be buried
with his two relatives
on November 8, 1963.
The Ministry of Internal Affairs
has convened this meeting.
Presently,
the head of the Ministry of Internal Affairs,
Lieutenant General Le Giang Soan,
Major General Mai Tan,
Major General Do Van Duong,
the head of the Army Security Department
of the Ministry of Internal Affairs,
the representative of the Vietnamese Army
Security Forces,
Tran Ngoc Giang,
Lieutenant General Hien Binh Tan Binh,
Lieutenant General Hien Binh Nguyen Tan Phuong,
Lieutenant General Le Giang Soan,
Lieutenant General Mai Tan,
to observe the two coffins
and designate a safe place
for the two men
at Tran Huong Dao Park
next to Hong Quoc Tu Pagoda
to observe the two coffins
and designate a safe place
for the two men
at Tran Huong Dao Park
next to Hong Quoc Tu Pagoda
As Tham said,
Goodbye, President Diem
Goodbye, Mr. Vice President Nhu
I wish you peace and tranquility
because Vietnam is still Vietnam
There are only changes,
changes of events
and leaders of the country
I wish you peace and tranquility
