Several days before, Brother Barthelemy Han had gathered some young boys and girls and requested that I teach them to perform some revolutionary songs. After ‘75, all the old songs and lyrics of the South Vietnam had been forbidden. They were labeled as "yellow songs" or "of capitalist USA." There was one song that I definitely refused to teach them, and that was "May, the month of Uncle Ho!" I had tried to convince Brother Barthelemy to change to another song, something like "Flowers still blossom" even though it had been considered a "yellow song," it was not so "reactionary!" I was really amazed that young boys and girls liked the latter song more than the former one.

On the early morning of May 19, because the head of the Communist Youth of Ho Chi Minh had offered to lead the students in the parade to honor the victory, Brother Barthelemy had taken responsibility to lead his choir in the show to honor Ho Chi Minh’s birthday. Most of the Brothers were free and relaxed and stayed at home.

***

Before ‘75, La Salle Mossard School had been a private one and only for boys and most of them were boarders. After changes of 1975, there were no more private schools and the parents, who for a long time ago, had wished to send their children, especially their daughters, to La Salle School, now were more than happy to enroll them, even accepting the "waiting list" category if necessary. In addition, the students, who just came from North, had the privilege to be up-graded by two levels, i.e. n+2, according to the order of the Head of Education Service. The secretary in charge of enrollment sent me a typical case as follows:

A certain bo doi, a worker at the iron factory, accompanied his two sons to enroll them in the 6th and 7th grade. I asked them, "Do you have the academic reports of 74-75?"

" Nothing!"

" If not, how can I know you’re 6th and 7th graders?"

The bo doi, a little embarrassed, said, "Frankly, I have to tell you that during these past years, I worked and worked all day long, that’s why I never paid attention to their studies. After the victory over South Vietnam, I was sent into the South to run the metallurgy factory in Thu Duc. I had heard that the schools would open again; therefore I accompanied them in order to enroll both of them into this school."

" Why this particular school and not any school? After the event of ‘75, all schools are the same. You can enroll your two sons in any school near your home; it might be much easier..."

" I know it, but my neighbors advised me to enroll my sons in "Moát..." or something like that, because, as they said, this school has been the most famous in the area. It belongs to the "La... La..." or something like that."

I said to myself, "No more!" and kind of fell into deep thought mixed with sadness and bitterness. The bo doi noticed that I kept silence for a few seconds. He said, "Am I wrong in something, Teacher?"

" Oh no! I’m just thinking about how to accept your sons into classes with the formula n+2."

In turn, he seemed perplexed, whispering to himself, "n+2, n+2... what does it mean?" Finally, I said, "OK! I will give them a test in Vieät Ngöõ (Vietnamese literature) and Math, and then I’ll place them in the appropriate classes."

" Thank you, Teacher! You may place them into any classes. I don’t mind of that. What I wish is that they be accepted to attend the "La... something... Moát... something" and I am really satisfied."

I called the office and told the secretary to accept students from the North, without the formula (n+2). Later on, I met these two boys and asked them, "You said that in the North, Uncle Ho and the Party had been caring for you and your family by granting to each family a small electric lamplight and that you had been happy with not having to attend school... So, do you want to go back North?" They responded, "Oh no! Never will we go back North! Here, in the South, you have not only one but many electric lamps and overall you can eat daily more than two bowls of white rice!"

***

On the morning of May 21, the office of enrollment sent to me at my office as Dean of Studies, three young ladies accompanied by their older brother. I was surprised because the enrollment had been closed.

A young man about 25 years old came at the door of my office, and asked with a strong voice, "Who is the Dean of Studies?" I raised my eyes and saw this young man with three young ladies. A little perplexed, I said, "Gentleman! What’s wrong with you? Why are you so upset?" His sisters bowed their heads, greeting me, "Good morning, Brother!". Hearing that, he was seemingly ashamed of his behavior. He said, in a much calmer voice and much more softly, "May I ask you to have my three sisters enrolled to this Complementary Summer Session at La Salle School?" I continued my work, replying "I’m sorry! all our classes are full, and as you may see, there is a notice at the office of enrollment that stated ‘enrollment closed.’"

Despite the fact that his sisters tried to calm him down, saying to him, "That’s fine!" then to me, "Thank you, Brother!" he raised his voice and said, "Do you know who I am?" Without waiting for my reaction, he continued, more or less in an argumentative manner, "I am the son of the Head of the District (communist party committee) of Thu Duc, and these three are his nieces..." I looked at them and very calmly replied, "I don’t care who you are! There are no more seats in the classrooms, and that’s it. Period!" The young man became more angry while his three sisters became kind of ashamed of their brother’s behavior and whispered, "That’s OK, Brother! Good bye!"

Before evening prayers on that day, Brother Colomban told me, "May you do me a favor?" I was a little surprised because it’s unusual that Brother Colomban had used such a tone speaking to me. I smiled, and then asked him, "What’s it about, Old Man?" He looked at me, then reluctantly said, "This afternoon, the head of the District of Thu Duc called and asked to do him a favor. That’s to have his three nieces enrolled to the 9th grade with option of studying English as a second language." I remembered what had happened that morning. I answered, "No way, Old man! I cannot accept them, because there are no more seats available! I had already refused these young ladies." Brother Colomban promptly replied, "I know it, and that’s why he called and asked me to do him this favor!" As I shook my head, Brother Colomban continued, "I am caught between you and him. Just four days ago, he did me a favor by signing a permit to buy 10 bags of cement..." I laughed, and said, "Oh! oh! You had "eaten" 10 bags of cement given to you from him, and you are now in a delicate situation, aren’t you?" He smiled in anguish, then said, "As you might know, after the event ‘75, when you wanted even to buy anything, you had to request the signature of the Head of the District, and each signature must involve, you know, something! This time I don’t have ‘something’ for getting his signature, I should do ‘something’, instead!"

I finally did accept these three young ladies, even though I had to open another 9th English (as second language) grade classroom. I then called the secretary and told her to accept 40 more students who had registered to enroll into the 9th grade class in English as second language.

***

A few days later, the secretary called and informed me that there was a woman who requested to meet the Dean of Studies in regard to her daughter’s enrollment. I said, "Show them the notice ‘Enrollment Closed’!" The secretary replied, "But, Brother, she insisted that if she cannot meet with you, she would disturb the good order of the school until her request was met."

I heard the sound made by the sandals she was wearing: a woman, in her 60s with her daughter, entered the office without knocking at the door. I said to the woman, "Please have a seat!" She replied, "I am fine. I shall stand here, at the corner of your desk."I looked, surprised and said, "What can I do for you?"

" I need nothing. I am just requesting to have my daughter enrolled in the class... She turned toward her daughter, then asked her, which grade are you in, my daughter?"

" 8th French as second language grade."

" At which school had you been an 8th grader?"

" The Blessed Gam School."

" Why aren’t you continuing to attend the Blessed Gam School?"

Her mother then said, "No more questions of ‘why’ or ‘what,’ just because I want her to be enrolled at La Salle School. Period!" I looked at her, amazed. Her daughter seemed to blush with shame. I tried to be self-possessed, saying, "Nowadays, all schools are the same. There are no more private schools."

" I know! But I have been waiting a long time to be able to send her to your school. Just because she is a girl, she can’t be enrolled. If she were a boy, there wouldn’t be any question!"

" Thank you for your sympathy. But, you may know, there are no more seats available for the 8th graders."

" What? It is such a large school. La Salle Mossard doesn’t have enough spaces for an extra seat? If you don’t have any available seat, I’m going to give you one or more seats..."

" No. That is not problem. The problem is that I have to follow the rules of the Education Service, which has set at most 50 students in each classroom."

" Who is this guy "Education Service?" Where does he live? I have to meet him, and I want to be clear about ‘why does he set the number 50 students in a classroom?’"

I didn’t laugh. Her daughter was astonished, too. She opened wide her eyes looking at her mother. I smiled, then I said with a humorous tone, "Madame, ‘that guy’ lives in Saigon..."

" Saigon? OK! I’m going to walk to Saigon... Oh no! I cannot, my feet have been hurt and injured..."

Still speaking, she put her right foot on the desk and showed me a bandage on her ankle. I really didn’t know what or how to react. My mind seemed paralyzed. Her daughter mumbled, "Mom! Mom!" She put down her foot. She took her mat bag from the corner of the room. While opening her bag she put her left hand into it. She seemed to be searching for something in it. She said, "OK! Let’s see if that ‘guy’ in Saigon will allow my daughter to be enrolled to La Salle School. Here, Brother, may you bring this gift to that guy? It is a grenade! It’s a very special grenade; its explosion is very effective!"

Again, I didn’t know how to act. "Is she joking, or is she really mad? If she is abnormal, why stand here to receive this awful thing? In thirty six stratagems, running away is the best" I said to myself. So, I ran out of the office. I passed the entrance to the Community Living Room and found Brother Michel looking for books on the shelf. I told to him, "Michel! There is a woman in my office who wants to explode a grenade!" Brother Michel, very calmly, said, "Let’s go and see!"

While we were still at the front door of the Community Living Room, the woman and her daughter were standing in the corridor. The right hand of the woman held something. She said, "Here it is the grenade! Please bring it to that guy in the Education Service!" Brother Michel, whose eyes were very clear, said, "It’s not a grenade. Let’s come closer!" I followed him. The woman spread her fingers, laughed and said, "Here is the grenade!" Brother Michel humorously shouted, "That’s a rosary!" I nearly fell over. My mind was in a whirl. "How can she make a joke like that?" I returned to my office. While Brother Michel was talking with her in the corridor, I sat down in the chair. Then I seemed to fall asleep.

I didn’t know long I had slept at the desk. Brother Michel tapped me on my shoulders, and I woke up. He smiled and said, "I know that you have had a hard time dealing with this woman. But, she really needs pity more than blame." I replied, "I don’t blame her, not at all! I guessed that she might have gotten into many troubles in her life." Brother Michel continued, "You’re right! She was a religious Sister of the Congregation [X], who had to leave the order for having had an affair with a young man. They had one boy and one girl. Her husband died on the battle-field in Kontum. The family of three then moved to Thu Duc several years ago. Her family’s economic condition was not bad, but too many events happened. Since the beginning of the offensive in Ban Me Thuot, her mind was troubled." I then said, "I understand. Every one of us could be like her. Confronting such problems in life that occurred since the so-called "change of life-style" can affect a person’s mind and behavior, and they could become more or less mad, even worse than she is!"

***

The Complementary Summer Session was set to begin on Friday, May 23, 1975. Everything seemed to be going well. But for me, perhaps because of so many things that had happened, I suddenly and decisively couldn’t stand it anymore. I tumbled down onto my bed for several days. Brother Francois, the Director, suggested that I go to the hospital, Grall on Don Dat Street. The Doctor told me that I had nothing serious but too many problems and hard work had weakened me. I should stay in the hospital for a few days, and then I would be fine.

I was really surprised and happy when my mother visited me. I asked her, "How did you know that I was sick?" She replied with a voice truly gentle and heartfelt, "I felt in my heart that something was wrong with you. I left Hue [the Center of Vietnam] and came to Thu Duc. Brother Director told me that you were now in convalescence at this hospital."