At just 16, Nguyen Thi Xuan Phuong left home to join the revolution, embarking on a life that would span war zones, laboratories, and battlefields.
In 1947, deep in the Viet Bac resistance base, Nguyen Thi Xuan Phuong was assigned to produce explosives and weapons for the army. There, she trained directly under engineer Tran Dai Nghia, a pioneer of Vietnam’s defense industry.
Now 97, Nguyen Thi Xuan Phuong remains remarkably lucid. Her calm yet resolute voice carries memories that stretch across nearly a century, as vivid as if those chapters of history had never receded.
A 16-year-old girl who ran away to join the revolution
Mrs. Nguyen Thi Xuan Phuong.
In early 20th-century Hue, strict social norms shaped the lives of young women. At 15 or 16, girls were expected to stay home, learn cooking and embroidery, and prepare for marriage. That was the prescribed path for someone like Phuong.
In 1945, World War II ended with Japan’s surrender following two atomic bombings. The Japanese military apparatus in Indochina quickly collapsed. Seizing the moment, on September 2 at Ba Dinh Square, President Ho Chi Minh proclaimed the Declaration of Independence, giving birth to the Democratic Republic of Vietnam.
At the time, Phuong was just 16 - a student with no prior exposure to politics or war. Yet, stirred by calls to defend the nation, young people of her generation responded with fervor.
“Within every Vietnamese lies a seed of patriotism. In ordinary times, it goes unnoticed, but when the country is in turmoil, it awakens and compels those quiet emotions to rise,” she recalled.
Phuong pictured with her family five days before running away to join the revolution. Photo: NVCC
In 1946, she and her uncle, five years her senior, agreed to meet at dawn at a ferry terminal and head to the resistance base. They brought a bicycle for the journey. But shortly after setting out, her uncle realized he had forgotten the pump and turned back, leaving her waiting.
Then gunfire erupted from across the river - French forces had begun a sweep. The boat was leaving. Without hesitation, she abandoned the bicycle and boarded alone, leaving her uncle behind. She carried nothing but a pair of sandals and a change of clothes. From that moment, her revolutionary life began, bound by a promise: once you go, you go all the way.
In liberated zones, she was assigned to propaganda and psychological operations in Hue. Fluent in French, she wrote leaflets hidden in bundles of vegetables sold to French soldiers, while also broadcasting messages to inspire resistance and patriotism.
Learning to make explosives in the forest
By 1947, Phuong was recruited by the Ministry of National Defense into the Technical Research Department, tasked with producing explosives and weapons. She did not fully grasp the dangers at the time, only that the country needed people who could read French technical materials and carry out the work.
Among the first group of technical staff, she was the only woman. Her colleagues gave her the nickname “the beauty of explosives.”
Recalling her early days in Viet Bac, she vividly remembered her first meeting with Tran Dai Nghia. In a makeshift classroom in the forest, engineer Thuy Lieu was teaching how to produce fulminate explosives in French when two visitors arrived.
A Ministry official introduced one of them: “This is Tran Dai Nghia, an engineer who has returned from France at Uncle Ho’s call. He will guide us in producing weapons to fight the French.”
From that simple introduction began years of study and weapons production.
Under his direct guidance, Phuong and her colleagues learned to mix explosives, produce recoilless cannons for anti-tank warfare, and manufacture various types of mines.
At first, the work seemed straightforward - follow French manuals, measure chemicals, and mix according to formula.
“I initially thought making explosives was like a pharmacist preparing cough medicine, just following instructions. But once I started, I realized how dangerous it was. A single mistake could trigger an explosion at any moment,” she said.
Manuals warned that just 2 grams of fulminate could kill a person, while they had to produce it in large quantities for the battlefield.
Accidents were inevitable. One morning, while she stepped out briefly to fetch food for a colleague, the makeshift lab - little more than a thatched shelter - suddenly burst into flames. The person inside suffered severe burns, with only their eyes spared thanks to protective goggles.
On another occasion, she had just stepped outside when a loud explosion erupted behind her. Turning back, she saw a colleague lying on the ground. Standing amid the chaos, she nearly fainted, questioning whether she could continue.
Taking on special missions
The film crew of The 17th Parallel - People’s War. Photo: NVCC
In the years that followed, Phuong moved across the Viet Bac base, taking on various roles - studying artillery trajectories, working in journalism, and later training as a senior medical assistant.
In 1967, while working as a doctor at the Committee for Cultural Relations with Foreign Countries, she was summoned by President Ho Chi Minh. She was assigned to protect the health and serve as interpreter for Dutch filmmaker Joris Ivens and his wife during a field trip to one of the most intense war zones.
President Ho Chi Minh explained: “We may make 20 films, but none might be shown in capitalist countries because they will call it communist propaganda. But with these two - long-time friends of oppressed nations - their films can be screened in the US.”
Phuong left her family behind and joined the film crew heading to Vinh Linh, Quang Tri.
They traveled in two separate vehicles in case of bombing. By day, they faced air raids while filming. At night, they sheltered in tunnels about 9 meters underground.
One night, deep in the tunnels, a desperate cry echoed: “Is there a doctor here? Help us!”
Instinctively, Phuong grabbed her medical bag and rushed through the dark passageways. A woman lay exhausted on the cold ground, in labor. After calming her and guiding the delivery, the baby was born.
“I handed the baby to the father after cutting the cord and cleaning the child. Suddenly, his cries of joy filled the tunnel: ‘My child! My child!’ The baby cried, the father sobbed, and the entire tunnel fell silent. I couldn’t hold back my tears,” she recalled.
The moment was quietly captured on film. Watching it later, Joris Ivens placed a hand on her shoulder and said: “Phuong, that is our profession - capturing the moments when life ultimately triumphs over death.”
A turning point toward war journalism
That journey to Vinh Linh marked a profound turning point. Though she wore a white coat and held a respected position, she felt a growing unease witnessing lives lost to war while remaining on the sidelines.
Joris Ivens told her: “Phuong has the qualities of a filmmaker. At this time, the country needs not only doctors or interpreters, but those who can document the war for the world.”
Encouraged, she sought permission to change careers despite opposition. Ultimately, she chose to leave her stable medical role to become a war correspondent, where the line between life and death was ever present. Her family, understanding her deeply, did not stop her.
Nguyen Quang Tuan climbing the flagpole. Photo: Xuan Phuong
In later missions, she and the film crew faced death repeatedly. One unforgettable scene involved filming the national flag atop a pole on the northern bank of the Hien Luong River at sunrise, its shadow cast over the southern side - a symbol of an indivisible nation.
The pole stood over 30 meters tall, in an area under constant bombardment. As cameraman Nguyen Quang Tuan climbed, a bomb exploded nearby. Phuong and Ivens were buried under debris. When pulled out, Ivens’s first question was: “Where is Tuan?”
Looking up, they saw him still climbing, clinging to the pole amid smoke and dust.
He reached the top. The wind fell still. The crew held their breath. Seconds passed - then the wind rose, the flag unfurled, its shadow stretching southward. The shot lasted just 50 seconds.
Back in Hanoi, watching the footage, the entire crew broke into tears.
The film The 17th Parallel - People’s War later gained international acclaim, screened widely in the US as President Ho Chi Minh had predicted. It premiered in France on March 6, 1968, and from November 26 that year, was shown globally to great impact.
Nguyen Thi Xuan Phuong was born in 1929 in Hue, into an intellectual family.
Throughout the wars against French colonialism and US intervention, she held many roles: explosives technician, medical assistant, journalist, interpreter, and pediatric doctor.
In 2011, she was honored by the French government with the Legion of Honour.
In 2024, she was named among the BBC’s 100 most inspiring women of the year, recognized for her contributions to culture and education.