Côn Đảo on the day of reunification

Every year, Hoàng Thị Khánh and fellow former political prisoners return to Côn Đảo to offer incense to fallen comrades. Photo: Minh Tuấn.

The final days in captivity

Hoàng Thị Khánh is currently Head of the Liaison Board for Former Political Prisoners and Prisoners of War in Ho Chi Minh City.

Memories of the last days of imprisonment in Côn Đảo remain deeply etched in her mind. A single prompt is enough to bring back a flood of emotions, returning the former female political prisoner to those extraordinary days more than 50 years ago.

"In the final week of April 1975, in both the male and female political prisoner camps, we gathered daily to listen to news from two radios brought from the mainland. From 23 April, we began receiving news of the revolution's victories. It was clear that the resistance war against the US had reached its final stage. But we could not imagine how the revolutionary forces had advanced through southern provinces, or what the assault on Sai Gon would be like. Our minds were under great tension," she recalled.

Political prisoners anxiously followed reports of advancing forces from the Central Highlands, through Khánh Hòa and Bình Thuận into the Southeast of Viet Nam. When they heard that liberation forces had reached Long Khánh (Đồng Nai), everyone was overjoyed - from there to Sai Gon was just over 80 kilometres. Victory was imminent.

However, inside the prison, unsettling developments began to unfold. From 26 April, guards intensified searches and discovered the two radios. From that moment, the prisoners were cut off from all further information.

A Viet Nam Navy vessel transports revolutionary soldiers from Côn Đảo prison back to the mainland Archival. photo: VNA

To track developments, they could only observe the behaviour of the guards. Normally, political prisoners serving sentences were allowed out for tasks such as distributing food or cleaning, while those with medical skills moved between cells to provide care. But as news from the mainland became increasingly volatile, guards confined even those previously allowed to move freely into locked cells, cutting off another source of information.

"On the morning of 26 April, we saw guards digging outside. Later we learned they were burying bombs. The 'tiger cages' were to be bombed when the guards withdrew, in order to destroy all prisoners. Everyone was deeply worried, and we came to the resolution that if death was unavoidable, we would face it with dignity. The next morning, we heard chaos outside and the roar of aircraft overhead. We thought they were coming to annihilate Côn Đảo prison. Only later did we learn those were flights evacuating US troops from Tân Sơn Nhất Airport to Côn Đảo, before they boarded ships to leave South Viet Nam," Khánh said.

By 28 April, the sense of disorder outside the prison bars had become evident, and on 29 April, prisoners were left without food.

"You have won"

At 4am on 1 May 1975, the head of Camp 6B, where Khánh and other political prisoners were held, came with a set of keys and opened the cell doors. He told them: "You may leave, your side has won."

Hoàng Thị Khánh, Head of the Liaison Board for Former Political Prisoners and Prisoners of War in HCM City. Photo: Minh Tuấn.

"We did not believe it at first, thinking we might be taken out to be killed. We told him that if they wanted to execute us, they should say so. He then brought a radio. At nearly 5am, we listened to Sai Gon Radio and heard Senior Lieutenant General Trần Văn Trà announcing martial law, how to manage Sai Gon, and how soilders of the old regime of Sai Gon had to show themselves. We shouted, 'We are alive, brothers and sisters!' Everyone cried and laughed at the same time, collapsing in emotion. When we regained ourselves, the camp head had disappeared, leaving only the keys behind," Khánh emotionally recounted.

One by one, prison cells were opened amid tears and overwhelming joy.

In Camp 7, prisoners quickly organised discussions with Camp 6, proposing that representatives be appointed to join the island's Party leadership and the Committee for National Liberation and Reconciliation of Côn Sơn Province.

At that time, prisoners in each cell had little knowledge of others, and each person also carried confidential information from their revolutionary activities that could not be disclosed.

With no military forces yet present on the island and aircraft still roaring overhead, the former prisoners feared a possible return of enemy forces. They began digging trenches along main routes and guarding key locations such as radar stations and the airfield.

Although weapons were scarce, they resolved that "something is better than nothing" in case of a reinvasion of the Americans. Female former prisoners sewed makeshift supply bags to transport water and rice to defensive positions.

They also implemented basic measures of martial law on the island, similar to those on the mainland, to maintain order and protect civilians.

Return to the mainland

On the morning of 4 May 1975, small vessels from the mainland reached Côn Đảo. Earlier, the mainland had asked what supplies were needed. After reviewing their situation, the former prisoners said they had enough rice for 15 days but requested portraits of President Hồ Chí Minh, Party flags and national flags.

Receiving these items brought immense joy and reassurance that they were truly safe and could celebrate victory.

Hang Duong Cemetery

That afternoon, the flag-raising ceremony became a deeply sacred and emotional moment. As the Liberation Front flag was raised and the song Giải phóng miền Nam (The Liberation of the South) resounded, all wept while singing, creating an atmosphere difficult to describe. Performances by former female prisoners later helped ease the intense emotions, and people began to smile and look forward to the future.

On the evening of 4 May 1975, the first ship carrying more than 500 former political prisoners, many weakened after harsh imprisonment, departed for the mainland. Subsequent trips brought female prisoners and then others in turn.

Upon arriving at Rạch Dừa in Vũng Tàu, they were met with another wave of emotion. Residents rushed to the boats, calling out to daughters and relatives, bringing food and gifts. The warmth and affection were overwhelming.

After the initial reunion, a quieter emotion settled in. Former prisoners began searching for news of their families, carrying a deep longing for reunion. Many had lost contact with loved ones during their arrest, and war had made separation commonplace.

Returning to Sài Gòn days later, Khánh and her fellow former prisoners began a new chapter, contributing to the rebuilding of wards, communes and the city.

"For us, freedom is the most precious thing. War is a disaster that destroys life. Where there is no war, people can live peacefully and happily. But freedom must go hand in hand with peace. After liberation, we return to Côn Đảo every year to offer incense to comrades who remain there forever," she said.

Khánh also noted that today's younger generation has carried forward the legacy well, continuing to learn and remember the nation's history, cherishing the past while striving towards a brighter future.

Đinh Thu Hiền; Đăng Dương (Dịch)