Muốc khóc với 3 câu chuyện về bà Ngô Đình Nhu và 2 ái nữ | NAMDUONGTV

Welcome to Nam Duong TV. In today's episode, let's listen to 3 stories about Ngo Dinh Nhu's parents. This story is published on tabe75.com. Ngo Dinh Le Thuy, Hong Nhan Minh Yiu. Nua Trinh Xuan, Thoat Gai Canh Thien Huong. Trich Trong, Doan Truong Tan Thanh. In 1962-1963, I was in the last year of the French Literature Department at Giang Khoa Saigon University. I was in the same class with Hong Lan, Hoang Van Huong, a kind and easy-going person. He was like a teacher who was sometimes indecisive. He sat and wrote music notes right there while the teacher was teaching. There was a teacher, Pham Thi Nham, whom I often asked for a loan every time I skipped school. I became the principal of Thanh Tam Girls' High School in Nha Trang. He recognized me as soon as he saw me coming to the school. There was Dang Tien, a blue-skinned man who was like a teenager who had a terrible hair loss. Before 1975, in Tuy Dien room of the Vietnamese Embassy in Switzerland, the French Literature Department has been alive until now. The story of writing the newspaper Ninh Hoc Cong San and Phe Binh Gia Van Chuong Tam Co. There was a general, Ngo Van Minh, who became the colonel-general of the 3rd Military Regiment. There were Quang Sen, Co Ban Tao, Bui The Can, Luong Thi Nga, Thai Thi Nhan, Le Thi Bich, Thai Tuyet Le, Le Thi Ngoc Loan, and Andre Cong Huyen, Ton Nu Phung Tien, Dong Huong Nha Trang, and his Latin classmates, Mr. Le Men and Michael Bixlin. They were all in France. There was Nguyen Nuong Minh Chau, who later became the wife of Dr. Dinh Ha. Both of them were ex-convicts. Their names were written in French. They were living in a quiet place in the US. They were Nguyen Ngoc Diem, Pham Duong Hien, Luong Nguyen Dat, Nghiem Hong, Mr. Nghiem Toan, Nghiem Ngoc Thuy, and Mr. Nghiem Xuan Thien, who later became the driver for Air France. At the beginning of the 3rd grade, Bui The Can and I were good students. We were in the first grade. We would go down to the 1st floor of Bui Tuan, Hue, to look for familiar faces among the crowds, or more accurately, to recruit new recruits for CECU. At that time, we needed the head of CECU, Nguyen Anh Tuyet, his son, and his secretary. I was the head of the French art group. One day, I saw a soldier with three silver flowers and a red beret holding a crab. He was tall and handsome. I bowed to him, and he bowed back politely. Some people said he was a high-ranking officer. A few years later, he became my superior, and became a French representative. Some people said he asked a student to replace him. I don't believe it, because in French art, teachers don't give out crabs. They have to go to the writing class, or borrow someone else's. And the election record at that time was quite high. It was very difficult for the teachers to recognize each other. On the way, we had to argue with the new students, listen to Pi Nguyet instead of Chakras, teaching Socrates and Hegel, or teaching French to Vietnamese, and getting tired again. One day, we saw Yvonne Langhuong, a friend in CECU, studying under a class, talking to a girl. She turned to Yvonne, and introduced her as Thuy, Ngo Dinh Le Thuy. The first time I met her, we didn't say anything, except a few polite words. Later, when Le Thuy joined CECU, French language department, I contacted her more often, but only announced the date and the meeting schedule. She was elegant, graceful, smart, little talk, little laugh, flexible eyes, round face, short breath, thick hair, and a beautiful voice. It's a thing that after half a century, I think it's embarrassing. Although I'm used to it, like Vietnamese girls in the US, speaking English, there's nothing like the old days. Le Thuy often wore a red dress, white shirt, sometimes even a female uniform. She was beautiful, but not sexy like Arend, not fresh like Luong Thi Nga, beautiful, elegant, and bold. I noticed that wherever she went, there were always a couple of students sitting in front of her desk, looking at everyone. CECU, French language department, sometimes published an article in French, written by Bui The Can, Anh Tuyet, Minh Chau, and me. Because no one sent the article, I still remember a few sentences. Like, I want to dip my lips in your heart, and flutter under the bright light. Or the poems of John Kitt or Tennyson, like, It's not you that I regret, but a dream because you're broken. Le Thuy finished reading, you're a bit weak, tell me to be serious like a teacher, say in French, please translate it into Vietnamese, I don't know you're so romantic, the poems are good, but they make people disappointed. I'm tired of rebutting like a servant was caught in the crossfire. Say in French, translate it into Vietnamese, I just do it for fun, nothing important. Le Thuy never came to the club except one time, I remember attending the first month of the festival for the whole club, sent by Pi Nguyet's father, and came back right after the festival. We only met at the end of the road, during the break, 5-6 of us sat at the end of the room, sometimes at Le Thuy's table, discussing or exchanging some necessary information, or the guard must have been informed standing far away, taking medicine to keep us calm. On a Saturday, Le Thuy and I went to the market, after visiting the poor workers at the pagoda. A few months ago, each of us donated 10 VND for the lunch, not a small amount, more than 3 bowls of Pho. Le Thuy gave me 100 VND, in front of Can's eyes, saying it was money from Mama. Unfortunately, I couldn't go with her. I thanked her, but she didn't say anything. Le Thuy was there, and the two guards had to follow us. On that day, about 40 of us took a bus from Ben Thanh market to Tran Huong Dao, or a private bus, like two sisters, Anh Thu and Hap Thu, or Hoang Ngoc Tue. The medical staff, including medical students, doctors, Rosa, Nguyen Anh Tuyet's wife, and Rosa's sister, were all there. There were guitar players and young singers, like Yvette Truong Tan Trung, Ton Nu Tam Thuong, and Nguyen Cam Nhung, son of lawyer Nguyen Van Huyen. Bui The Can was the commander, Anh Tuyet was in charge of the army. At first, we visited Thuong Dien's house, he had long hair, and he was crazy. His clothes were all over the place, and his smile was scary. We were so scared, but most of the people looked at us. I greeted them, but they didn't say anything. Then we moved to Trai Cui. Dinh Ha gave us some alcohol to sober us up. There were a lot of sick people, including children. I was not surprised because my neighbor in Nha Trang, Lach Thien, also had an alcohol bar founded and operated by Franciscan monks. But at that time, I was still young, I was just a spectator passing by, curiously looking at the thick thickets. Now, for the first time, I have the opportunity to speak with so many people and talk to them privately. I have the opportunity to be a part of a movement to help children and others who are now in the hospital because of the virus. I know now that things haven't been easy for me. I know that The competition was held in Nguyen Nuong Minh Chau, Do Cuu Nhan, Lien Moc Khi. I dropped the national anthem, forced the French and British students to play it, because in the competition, I did not remember the words of the teacher Duong Hong Sen, I did not remember the words of the teacher Duong Hong Sen, and I brought this poem to the other teacher. The teacher held it, and the result was even worse. I did not know the four-letter poem of the poet Tuy Ly Duong, I stood there, dying like a dead man, I looked at it, and I laughed at it. I had to re-try these two national anthems, and the thousands of Russians in that spring festival that I named above, no one followed my husband to leave the game, like in the poem Hang Mat Tu, but I was able to travel to France in a quiet way from the second and third year. I needed to go to Hue, I went to Nha Trang, I taught at Collège François, the national anthem, also thanks to the hard-to-pronounce national anthem. I have never seen Le Thuy again, she has been missing since the day she gave us our motorbike for 100 VND. I know she also passed through the note stuck in front of the school door, with the full official name of Annie Veronique Ngô Đình Le Thuy, born in 1945. Every day, there is a climb, the political situation increases, students and Buddhists go down the street every day, the police wave hello, the world laughs, firecrackers, newspapers curse, the system is bad. It makes me very concerned because through Le Thuy, my feelings for Granny Diệm are very deep, unlike a few older friends, such as Nguyễn Hữu An. I vaguely understand how the hands of the Americans have also sunk into the interior of Vietnam, but I believe and hope that Granny Diệm will overcome everything, like the 1960 coup. Later, many changes happened, bombs exploded at the Hue Radio, the Court of Appeal for Self-Injury, female students in a fashion show protested being shot to death by the police at Bùn Binh Market, Saigon, then the coup. On November 2, 1963, hearing the news that two of Granny Diệm's brothers were killed, my father shed tears, and at midnight, my father asked the whole family to read more prayers for the two grannies. And I naturally felt endless sadness, for a few days, although I had not received a little bit of rain from the system, at that time Le Thuy was abroad with my mother on a trip to detoxify. Immediately after the coup, the generals of the CAA, jumped, dropped their guns, broke the strategy, started a small-scale campaign, their family was stupid, and Mrs. Nhu, Le Thuy, was also involved. Mrs. Nhu had a seat in the independence camp, but the truth is that it was just a chair used as a toothbrush in the dentist's office. Who was Mr. Nhu powerless? Who was Mrs. Nhu infatuated with Granny Diệm? With this general? With that general? Who is Le Thuy has many lovers, even a Japanese man, Le Thuy, is infatuated, studying art, just writing his name, not going to class, but also equal to the people. I read and felt sad, although it makes sense, but the people are little educated, or too excited, still believe, that's weird. It's like the people of the northern region, more than ten years later, threw stones at the Commandery General to educate us in a sincere way. Our origin is military, kill people, eat children, rape women. The work of a soldier's life, makes me forget Le Thuy. The memory of Vietcecu, the days with her, also gradually faded over time. 2. Until the beginning of 1967, that is 4 years later, I was assigned to the 4th Corps, 44th Infantry Regiment, in the rural peace campaign in Thien Giao District, Ma Lam Cuu, a famous dangerous area in Phan Thiet province. The day I went to the army to find an enemy, through the neighboring villages, the night when the army closed in the forest, with my eyes wide open between two trees, listening to the sound of Taipei echoing far away, looking at the fruits of the fields that used to shine on the hillside, which hurt the soldiers who were there to face the death. One afternoon, I was talking to the Commander-in-Chief, a bullet shot through my hat, from my head a line through the neck of another soldier, carrying a PRC-25 transmitter standing nearby, killing him on the spot. The sniper shot and ran away, being chased by the soldiers and a whole cabin was blown up. A soldier, his family was angry, swearing, and wanted to cut off his hand to take revenge. I had to advise him to cut it off. That scene was too tragic for both sides. I thought, the Southern soldiers are more than anything those who really love peace and for the sake of peace, they have to sacrifice their lives to drive away the invaders from the North. If they have to fight the war, they are the ones who have the right to speak first, not those who make poems, make music, stay in the back, be afraid of death, escape from the war, push the high-ranking military officers who are passionate about art, so that they can stop killing, cut off their hands, cut off their fingers, and so on. Then why did they fight the war? Why didn't they go to the North and call for Ho Chi Minh to remove the armor, stop the incitement and attack the South? Why did they just go to the South where they were given food, clothes, freedom to compose, freedom to betray? So many questions keep rolling in my head until today, when the songs and poems that contributed to the country are still loved and loved, and the writers are blown with paper pipes to the sky. Let's talk about Ngo Dinh Le Thuy. On a weekend at the end of April 1967, I and my friend, were allowed to go to Phan Thiet, about 15 kilometers from Thien Giao, to take a break from the night and drink beer with boiled chicken. At the restaurant, the soup was still wet. We ordered two bowls for each person, 25 bowls each, filled with fish sauce, and a bowl of rice. We ate until we were full. I bought a newspaper and read the news that Le Thuy died in a car accident in France. Exactly, in the Eixam area outside Paris. Died on the spot. At that time, she was 22 years old. The article said, at night, she was driving a small car and was hit by a truck. The back of the truck was straight. Her head was broken. Later, I read the news on The Times. The date was Friday, April 21, 1967. I think it's the right news. Although my feelings for her and the opposite have never been intimate, full of passion, enough for the rites of the people to be full. But in the eyes of the beautiful lady Tam Duong, wearing a blue shirt of the beautiful woman from the past, I still see the starry halo. I miss the drinking party that I have been waiting for a long time. I miss you. I think of the memories of my college days, the school trip, the meetings, the romantic love poems and her heavy criticism. 100 dong ma man cho. At night, through the hotel window, I look at the blue sky, not close to the clouds, and the half-moon, newly grown, on the mountain. I remember the poem of the top of the mountain, crying for the princess. I, snow, flower, blood. It means, oh, snow, flower, blood. 3. 2 months later, I was ordered to relocate to Quy Nhon. I took the flight E-Vietnam to Saigon first, stayed in the hotel for a few days, then returned to Nha Trang to take a week off before going to Quy Nhon to recruit a new unit. I was wearing a backpack and a shoulder strap, a pink collar and a military uniform on my body. On the flight, there were some young officers from the combat units who were also equipped like me, warning the pilots to pack up their guns and take them to a place behind the plane. At Tan Son Nhat airport, I was waiting for a taxi when I saw Thai Tuyet Le getting off the plane and I asked him, Tuyet Le, is that you? You're from France, why didn't anyone pick you up? No, I didn't tell you earlier. I wanted to surprise your family. Tuyet Le is from Hue, she's an ex-convict. Although she's a non-religious woman, she's the younger sister of the owner of Phy Diep ice cream shop in Ben Thanh market, Tran Huong Dao. She studied French from the 3rd year of university. I was very happy when I invited Tuyet Le to go with me on a taxi to the city. In the car, Tuyet Le looked at me with admiration. He complimented me, the court was in black, but it looked like Nam Nhi, Hung Dung, very different from when I was a student. Yes, of course. I looked at him, and said in front of Hong Cuong, you're a soldier, in a very unfortunate way, and we both laughed. The story revolved around the old version, and I learned more about Aren Phung Tien in the hometown of Stan Hall, the author I have loved since I was still in middle school. Then the death of Le Thuy palace, we changed to French, so that the taxi driver could not understand. And Tuyet Le told like this. In Paris, Tuyet Le went to the funeral of Le Thuy and the wedding of the soul and took it to Nghia Trang. The head of Le Thuy was held in front, cut near the neck, when the tongue was sewed back and the face was so beautiful, calm as an angel. Mrs. Nhu flew from Rome, hugged the child and cried, made Tuyet Bo also cry. The car was damaged, it was a brand new BGX of the General Director Ngo Dinh Thuc bought for Le Thuy. The taxi driver, who had nothing to do, was interrogated by the police. I asked, which school did Le Thuy study in Paris? When? I sighed. Poor him, he was so lucky. The car stopped in front of the ice cream shop, Tuyet Le paid for it, invited me to eat ice cream, but I refused. Come on, I just got home, I need to meet my family for another occasion. Then he took the bag and the gun and walked away, called the taxi driver to take him home It was a long time ago, but when I wrote this poem, I still feel nostalgic. I still remember her yelling at me once about the sad love poems, and today I rewrote the poem that day. It was you that I regret, not the dream because you died. But in a sense, because of the romantic age, I think that the beauty Ngo Dinh Le Thuy died so early is also good because the world sees a lot of gray hair. 2. Mrs. Ngo Dinh Nhu, 50 years of loneliness The letter from Ngo Dinh Trac reported to my friend, lawyer Truong Phu Thu, that Mrs. Ngo Dinh Nhu, nicknamed Maria Tran Le Xuan, returned to her homeland at 2 a.m. on April 24, 2011, 87 years old. I wrote this poem to send my best friends and those I know to the beloved or at least not hated Mrs. Ngo Dinh Nhu, the first regime of the Vietnamese Communist Party and President Ngo Dinh Diem. Unlike the rebels of 1963, I have never met Mrs. Nhu, have never received any gift from her or the regime. In addition to 100 VND she sent to the CECU, the University of Thanh Sinh Cong that Ngo Dinh Le Thuy gave me. Mrs. Ngo Dinh Nhu is a famous person in the Ngo Dinh family who is the only one who survived and just left. Whether you love or hate her, everyone must recognize that she is a smart, talented woman, a strong, emotional comrade of her husband and brother-in-law. Through the two gifts, there has never been a woman of the Vietnamese people who made me feel and be proud like Mrs. Ngo Dinh Nhu, even though she is not perfect like anyone else in this life. She is the target of journalists and Vietnamese and foreign visitors, especially the United States. Not to mention the Communist Party, religious leaders, opponents of death, she has never stopped criticizing, even about her own life. Reading all the documents that have been opened and the old newspapers and the new newspapers is not a good sign because no matter what, she is just a woman and does not have any official job in the government. Even the US and the West do not appreciate her talent as a hero to hit her with a bunch of roses but they used everything to fight back. They have faked the mental wounds of a decapitated man, a 16-year-old general and a 16-year-old girl as one of the most beautiful main characters in Greek tragedies. But unlike them, she always used her rebellious nature to her advantage. She was silent, accepted the harsh fate and silently endured all the suffering, humiliation, and injustice for half a century. One more thing about her personality, which I believe even the enemy cannot deny. When her husband was murdered, she was still young and beautiful. At that time, the US media also criticized her. But she lived in her husband's time and raised her when she was still young. She did not have her mother-in-law's ashes, her father-in-law's coffin, her father's corruption or robbery. If there is evidence that she committed these two crimes, the US media and the Communist Party of Vietnam will never let her rest in peace. She lived like a prostitute, did not appear in front of the crowd, did not let the public see her hair change color, did not let the bird's feet print on her eyes, and the ashes of time. According to those who claim to be ancient, without any declaration, my time has passed. She often said to those who knew her, like a word of farewell to the world, not to speak, not to confess, not to take another step, not for money for herself for the billionaire. If you live in the era of the monarch, you deserve to be honored with praise, regret, and praise. That's enough for me to love her like a mother. She is less than a year older than my mother. I love her as a hostess, a brilliant, bold, bold, like her husband, in front of the crowd of enemies in and out. I respect her as an idol. How can I not be moved when I hear that she has embarked on a final journey, the day of the death on the throne, and to live on, so that from now on, the family belongs to the age. According to Edwin Stinson, belong to the age. Agustin Renoir, of the masterpiece of light and color, at the end of his life, he was paralyzed, could no longer stand, had to sit and paint painfully, with his hands clenched. His student, the famous Mastici, saw this and asked him, why do you have to continue to sit and paint in such a miserable way? Renoir looked at the painting and replied, the pain will go away, Renoir's words to her, in a sense, the mental pain of Mrs. Ngo Dinh Nhu will go away, as well as the physical pain of General Bui Thi Xuan, but her beauty will exist forever. I know those who are against and hate her will be annoyed because she wrote mine. It's okay, it's life. However, I ask those who treat her a little bit like a human being, let her rest, at least during this time, 1 year, 10 years later, then let's split up, it's not too late. I want to tell my relatives and ask them to read a sutra, pray for her soul, hurry back to Vinh Hang, and find true peace, after 50 years of loneliness. This is the poem of Kim Thanh, The Day the Lord Resurrected, April 8, 2012. 3. Sonat for a Gentleman Lucia Ngo Dinh Le Quyen The letter was sent to me this morning from a distant friend that made me tremble. As recently, an unfamiliar acquaintance suddenly left, although he was old and sick, Ngo Dinh Le Quyen left Duong Tran when he was 53 years old, too young for me. In a moment, I hope it's not true. I don't know who made a joke and posted it on the Internet, a fake news about April is coming. Until Attorney Truong Phu Thu called Ngo Dinh Quynh and then I went on the web and had a piece of news in Italian and a piece of video. I hope his voice is really broken and the pain in me goes up to the speed as if a familiar person had left. I visit the Lord and give myself a sigh. Suddenly, like in the old days when I read the letter of Ms. Le Thuy, a young man from the group Thanh Sinh Cong died in a car accident that was also tragic, which led to a great disappointment. Although I have never met Ms. Le Quyen, I have never seen a picture of her before, I have never heard of her name except in the signature of her mother, Mrs. Ngo Dinh Nhu. She left Vietnam in 1963 when she was only 4 years old, a month after her father and uncle were murdered by bloodstained hands and dollars, which our family did not pay much attention to. It was only today that I learned that Le Quyen had been responsible for helping people around the world in the Caritas agency of the city of Rome where she had lived for nearly half a century in silence and had died in a horrific moment, lying dead alone in the back of a car, in the middle of life as if it were a natural accident, died tragically, in a state of mourning for many people who were not there on the streets of Pontina, Rome. When the stars were covered by the fog, now the stars are scattered like flowers in the middle of the road. My Lord, why, why, and why, I ask myself. Is there any answer to this mysterious and irrational mystery? If the victim was not Mrs. Ngo Dinh Nhu, the younger sister of Ngo Dinh Le Thuy, the niece of a president and a general, the younger sister of Hong Yi, if she did not belong to the noble and famous family of modern Vietnam, then this question is not necessary anymore. Someone answered, by comparing Ngo Dinh's family with the family of Kennedy, they also suffered many similar injustices. I don't think so. John Kennedy, the American and Western allies of Vietnam in 1963 was clearly a direct or indirect punishment to kill the three Ngo brothers and then forcefully pour the military into Vietnam, which led to the collapse of the whole South 12 years later. How can punishment be the same as the victims? Then again, how can you compare the three Kennedy brothers with the three Ngo Dinh brothers in terms of personal status and morality? Those who hate the Ngo Dinh regime like the phrase to explain the accident based on religious concepts and philosophical lessons are the Ngo Dinh brothers. I don't think so either. Le Thuy, Le Quyen, or even John Kennedy Jr. did anything wrong but God punishes for the sins of adults. If the quote is correct, then why Ho Chi Minh, Truong Chin, Le Duong or Stalin, Mao Zedong, Bonobo, etc. The famous names of great treachery and evil have killed many lives and died peacefully in the recent years. Is God real? Recently, the names like Hoang Phu Ngoc Tuong, Nguyen Dat Xuan, Tai Da Nhung Mau of thousands of people in Hue still live. Why? Recently, for the first time, Le Quyen's pictures with dark black eyes and a sad face have become the main characters in the movie Artigone, 442 BC. The tragic play of the Greek writer Soboczes tells the tragic events of Opit and his family in a harsh and unique way. The characters Artigone as well as Eglise Ferre of the play Auripid and Harmony Ariste in other plays that Racine of the 17th century has imitated are all the victims of the cruel fate for the weak people in front of the gods or the super-form or the cruel passion. Only death can resolve all the grievances. Unhappiness has fallen through the generations as the waves of the blue sky are used to the red sky to make the earth jealous and the supreme power of the sun to the sky to make the heavens make the people to be close to the sky and the wind to the wind to make the heavens to be part of the heavens I had to endure hundreds of pains and humiliation. No matter how it is interpreted, the sudden death of Le Quyen made me both sympathize, admire, and be proud of her. Sympathize with Thuy Kieu, who is always on the side of a stranger, who is as good as tears, crying for the old life. I am proud of her, who was mentioned by foreign media as a Vietnamese who came to Italy since she was a child, then held an important position in the Caristat Roma Association, and devoted herself to worshiping the Buddha. I am proud of her, although she has a law degree, but because of her determination not to go to Italy, she was not allowed to go to college, and she did not need it. I am proud of her, because although she married an Italian, she still named her son Ngô Đình Sơn, a Vietnamese woman who wants to keep the foundation and nature of Vietnam forever. Please understand that Vietnam plus Hoa is nothing more beautiful. Just like my mother and two brothers, they are now in the midst of hatred, lies, injustice, and violence. And just like my mother, she has never said a word, wrote a sentence to console those who killed her father, uncle, and uncle. She forgot and forgave everything. And so, I think that in the many years of hard life, when Nhường worked silently like a dream, no one mentioned and hid behind the rose bush. Maybe she wanted to fight back, or at least to change the harsh destiny of her husband's family in her own way, as well as Augustine in her own way. When standing in front of the king, she disobeyed the order not to kill, not to kill the rebellious British, Bollinich, and then challenged the heavens to punish the family of Oedipus, her father. He was sentenced to death, and she lived in misery. She thought that Oedipus would be freed from the power of fate. Unexpectedly, fate did not spare her. And in one morning, she fell down, head down, helplessly, like a real character in the tragedy of a Greek that I have been obsessed with since I was a student. I mourned and pitied her so much. This is the story of my husband, Augustine Kim Thanh, Bollinich, on April 17, 2012.