Then one day Ngọc brought À Ơn along with her. Remarkably, À Ơn carried with him a letter from Vĩ Nạ, now based in Tháp Phước, near Huế. In her letter, Vĩ Nạ wrote that she had got married; her husband was a machine-gunner in the armed forces serving near Tháp Phước, hence her reason for being there. While she didn’t give specifics, she did write, ‘Compared to where I was stationed before, this is the real front line.’

Every day I listened to the radio. I knew that the fighting around Tháp Phước was particularly intense, but I couldn’t criticize her decision. In war, what we hope to do and what we actually do are not often the same, and besides, she had a good reason for being there: she was with her husband.

Vı˜ Nạ had also included a photo with her letter. It was of the two of them together, standing proudly alongside an awesome-looking machine-gun bunker; it seemed as though its guns were sighting an American plane somewhere out of camera range. When I showed Ngọc the photo she smiled and laughed, and then said, ‘I thought it was a letter from your wife. Who is she?’

I told her.

‘And your wife … ?’ she asked impatiently.

In a highly affected manner, À Ơn answered for me. ‘A wife? He’s married? He should have a wife, but, in truth, he hasn’t even got a girlfriend, let alone a wife – isn’t that true, Vĩ Phu?’

I was too mortified to speak.

But À Ơn just wouldn’t shut up. He turned round and in a voice that made my skin crawl, said, ‘Ngọc, would you believe that poor old Vĩ Phu here is still a virgin?’

I had no one to blame but myself; I had told him this … and it was true. How could I have known that he wouldn’t’ve believed me; that he thought I was joking? Fuck. À Ơn … he just couldn’t keep a secret … worse than a bloody parrot.

At first, Ngọc seemed rather embarrassed by À Ơn’s forthrightness, but as the moment passed, she drew close to À Ơn and spoke in a low voice. ‘Ah … I understand your meaning; you mean to say that … Vĩ Phu still has much … ah … much that he needs to do … and so it’s imperative that he recovers quickly …’

The next day, Ngọc came round and made sure to ask if what À Ơn had said was true.

I deflected her query by saying, ‘Don’t tell me that you think it might be true?’

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