Stories of the 'numberless prisoners'
More than 50 years after national reunification, the 'numberless prisoners' of the past have followed different paths in life. Some have achieved success, while others have remained rooted in modest livelihoods. Wherever they are, they remain living witnesses to an unforgettable chapter of history, carrying with them pride in their resilient mothers - resilient in confronting the enemy and in protecting their children under harsh conditions.

Kiều Việt Liên as a child with her mother, Trần Tố Nga.
Fashion designer Kiều Việt Liên vividly recalls the moment she held the national flag atop the Independence Palace on April 30, 1985. She was then 11 years old, known by adults as "the youngest prisoner of the National Police Headquarters". She had opened her eyes to the world there, when her mother, Trần Tố Nga, a revolutionary liaison officer of the Intellectual Mobilisation Section under the National Liberation Front, was arrested.
Trần Tố Nga was captured and tortured while pregnant. The enemy did not hesitate to hang and beat a woman close to childbirth during interrogation. That may explain why Kiều Việt Liên suffered chronic headaches throughout her youth, a condition that still recurs today. She was born on Christmas Eve at Hùng Vương Hospital, where her mother endured severe haemorrhaging, her body still bearing bruises from torture, while guards stood watch outside with weapons.
Just eight days after giving birth, Trần Tố Nga was escorted back to prison, carrying her newborn daughter. From that moment, Kiều Việt Liên became a "numberless prisoner", experiencing imprisonment from birth until the country's reunification on April 30, 1975.

Võ Văn Thanh with his mother, Lê Thị Bé Hai, at present.
Her birth brought both comfort and constant anxiety, as the enemy sought to use the child to pressure the mother into confession. In her memoir Đường Trần (the path of Trần/the path of life), Trần Tố Nga wrote: "My child has been born, lying beside me in flesh and blood. The enemy will certainly exploit this tiny life to force me to confess. The struggle will become more complex and harsher. How must I respond in these new conditions?"
This was not an isolated case. Using children to exert psychological pressure on imprisoned mothers was a common tactic. In 1968, Lê Thị Bé Hai, a female liaison officer, was arrested and detained at Đô Thành Headquarters, Thủ Đức Prison and later exiled to Côn Đảo. While detained in Thủ Đức, she gave birth to her son, Võ Văn Thanh, in 1969. During a prisoner protest against saluting the enemy's flag, prison authorities used her child as leverage: if she complied, she could keep her son; if not, the child would be sent to an orphanage. She firmly refused.

Huỳnh Thị Anh Thư with her mother.
However, her determination could not overcome the physical weakness following childbirth. Her son was taken away and sent to Dục Anh Orphanage. Only eight months later was she able to arrange for him to be transferred to his grandmother's care in Củ Chi, where he remained until reunification.
Growing up with his grandmother, Võ Văn Thanh has led a modest life and now works as a motorbike repairer. The years without his mother, and the long period after liberation before a full reunion, remain a lasting memory.
Carrying such unique experiences, many "numberless prisoners", while proud of their mothers, also see themselves as victims of war. Yet these memories have also become a source of strength, helping them overcome difficulties and move forward in life. Huỳnh Thị Anh Thư, daughter of revolutionary Nguyễn Thị Hường (alias Năm Châu), is one such example.
On May 13, 1966, when her child was just one month old, Nguyễn Thị Hường was arrested. With no alternative, she brought her infant into prison. The months that followed, as she fought to send her child to be raised by relatives, marked the beginning of a childhood marked by hardship for Anh Thư.
"If viewed from another angle, we were victims of war - children who had just been born and were drawn into harsh prison life. Some suffered lifelong consequences, like Mr Dũng, who was detained with his mother in Thủ Đức and lost his sight after being exposed to lime powder. As for me, I grew up under the care of relatives and those who supported my mother," she shared.
Yet from those hardships came a deeper appreciation of compassion and kindness. For Anh Thư, this became a motivation to live responsibly and give back. She founded an educational initiative called "Con sẽ là" (I will become), a modern approach aimed at helping children develop thinking skills, unlock potential and build confidence and empathy.

A keepsake outfit sewn by Trần Tố Nga for her daughter Kiều Việt Liên from fabric of her maternity dress during imprisonment.
She has also devoted considerable effort to working with the Liaison Board for Former Political Prisoners and Prisoners of War in Ho Chi Minh City to document and connect stories of "numberless prisoners". She hosted the first exchange programme titled "Numberless Prisoners", held in HCM City on 18 October, 2025, which left a deep impression on participants.
From any perspective, the "numberless prisoners" remain an inseparable part of history, embodying the indomitable revolutionary spirit of mothers who endured hardship and sacrifice in the struggle for justice.
Nguồn Phụ Nữ VN: https://phunuvietnam.vn/stories-of-the-numberless-prisoners-238260429191113878.htm











