Ben Vuot in the past and Ben Hoa in the present

“Mom! Why is it called Ben Vuot?” The mother remained silent and did not answer. Everyone else remained silent as well. Perhaps one of the people who had fallen at Ben Vuot, or in the river here, was the father of the young mother, the grandfather of the innocent child.

Old Ferry

The Thach Han River originates from the Truong Son mountain range in the west of Quang Tri province and flows into the East Sea through the Viet estuary. Legend has it that the name Thach Han is explained by the fact that there is a hidden rock vein blocking the river upstream, so the river is called Thach Han River. The Thach Han River, like many other rivers, flows downstream, depositing silt and raising water to feed people. But in this S-shaped country, where battles are everywhere, there are few rivers like the Thach Han River when it flows through the heroic land of Quang Tri. For more than 81 days and nights in 1972, the whole land of Quang Tri was on fire and the river writhed and boiled because of the enemy's bombs. The green river and green banks were dyed with the blood of heroes who did not hesitate to sacrifice themselves for the Fatherland. The place where they crossed the river to replenish forces for the ancient citadel battlefields was also the place where they brought wounded soldiers and martyrs back to the north bank. This place they called Ben Vuot. Ben Vuot is the place where you left, where you returned and also where you fell and merged into the river, lying deep at the bottom, or following the flow of Cua Viet into the vast ocean. Ben Vuot is the place where perseverance is tested, where you entered the gates of death with a heart for the country to write the heroic and tragic epic of the Vietnamese people forever. Crossing Ben Vuot, you were drenched in the rain of bombs and bullets, you were drenched in the blood of your comrades. A veteran who fought at the ancient citadel of Quang Tri and was also lucky to cross Ben Vuot recalled: There were nights when our soldiers crossed the river from the North bank to the South bank, in the middle of the river, they met our soldiers bringing back wounded and fallen soldiers, they only had time to blink and did not forget to quickly pat their comrades. There were brothers who sacrificed so painfully. Being wounded and being brought back across the river, they were hit by enemy artillery, it was like being sacrificed twice.The old Ben Vuot is soaked with a red blood stream

Hoa Wharf today

There was a young mother, holding her child’s hand, walking step by step down to the riverbank to release a flower lantern into the Thach Han River during the great memorial service. The gentle wind seemed to lift the child’s young feet. The child looked up at his mother and wondered: “Mom! Why is it called Ben Vuot?” The mother was silent and did not answer. Everyone was silent too. Perhaps one of the people who had fallen at Ben Vuot, or under the river here, was the father of the young mother, the grandfather of the innocent child. I joined the stream of people releasing flower lanterns in the night. Veterans in uniforms with red medals on their chests, their faces darkened by the gun smoke of nearly 40 years ago. They raised their hands to salute their comrades. People from many different walks of life walked, releasing flower lanterns, whispering prayers. Murmuring loud enough to be heard, afraid that they would be startled from their thousand-year sleep. Murmuring just enough to express their wishes for the deceased. The sky of Thach Han was a new moon tonight. The twinkling stars accompanied the lanterns forming silent lines, slowly flowing down. The whole river shimmered on both banks, shimmering in silence. The faces blurred, the moonlight blurred, and the lanterns blurred... The light of the lanterns carried the souls of the soldiers, reminding them that: Yesterday was tragic not only in the ancient citadel, but also in many other places in this country, soaked in the blood of our brothers and our ancestors to build and protect, always awakening the living. The story goes that on the full moon day of the seventh lunar month, a veteran bought all the flowers in Quang Tri town, waited until dusk, then quietly went down to Vuot wharf, lit the lanterns and released the flowers into the Thach Han river, then read a few verses as a message:Boat to Thach Han, oh... row gently. My friend still lies there at the bottom of the river. At the age of twenty, he becomes waves. Gently lapping the shore forever.. Then, as a tradition, every full moon of the seventh lunar month, the people of the ancient citadel bring flowers and release them into the river to pray for the souls of the heroes to be liberated. The old Ben Vuot is now called Ben Hoa. Ben Hoa is now built with many steps so that anyone can go down close to the water to release the flower lanterns, so that they can put their hands in the water as if giving them to the heroes to hold. Ben Hoa has a covered corridor for those who want to stop for a few minutes to watch the river and meditate. Both banks of the river are now green with trees and grass. The river caresses both banks, depositing alluvium and lulling the heroes to a thousand-year sleep. The four verses of poetry that the veteran read long ago are now engraved and erected next to Ben Hoa. Ben Hoa has become a sacred meeting place for the heroes who fell for Quang Tri with the generations of today and tomorrow: Please rest assured. We and future generations will do our best to ease the pain, the nostalgia, and the distance from where you lie.Hoa Wharf is now green and the sky is blue.