Major Nguyen Huu Thuan has spent 27 years serving with the Viet Nam People’s Army, 19 of which have been at sea.

Many believe this to be a record for the longest amount of time a soldier has been stationed in the nha gian (navy stilt houses for protecting the sovereignty of the country’s continental shelf).

Thuan’s family home is situated in the living quarters of Naval Brigade 171. When we arrived, we saw dozens of sacks of rice stacked by the door.

His wife, Nguyen Thi Luan, explained: “My husband Thuan spends most of the year at sea. Our salaries are low and it’s difficult to pay for our children’s tuition fees, so I sell rice to other families in the neighbourhood to earn extra money. This year, we’re happy because my husband will enjoy the Tet festival at home. We got married 23 years ago but we’ve only spent the holidays together on a handful of occasions. I don’t know how many times I’ve said goodbye to him, but I do remember the new years we have shared as a family.”

The couple got married in early 1990, but before their honeymoon week was over, Thuan had to return to his unit.

At that time, he was stationed in the northern border province of Lang Son.

It was more than a year before his next visit home, and by that time his wife had already given birth to a son. His 20 days furlough went quickly, and it wasn’t long before he was saying farewell to his young family again.

In the following years, his visits remained seldom, and his son looked at him like a stranger. Every time he tried to hold his son, the boy burst into tears, and he used to cry at night because “a strange man was sleeping with Mummy”.

In April 1994, Thuan was transferred to Navy Brigade 171 on a new voyage full of hardship and surprises.

After three years, he thought he would be able to return to his former unit, but his seniors decided to keep him at his post.

Thuan missed his wife and son, and asked them to move to the southern city of Vung Tau so they could be closer. At first his wife refused because she didn’t want to give up her job as a teacher, but out of pity for her husband and their son, she eventually agreed.

She rented a 12 sq.m room in a small lane and the neighbours looked after the boy while she earned a living from cleaning and gutting fish at the local port.

When she gave birth to their second child, Thuan was still stationed away with his unit.

He felt bad that he had left her to bring up their children by herself, and told her to quit her job at the port. But she replied: “I take pride in my work. We will not find happiness without tears. You should have peace of mind, I will take care of the children and the housework.”

Her days began at 4am when she prepared food for the sleeping children before leaving for work by bicycle.

At 7am she returned home to send them off to school, and then went back to work.

Her hard work paid off and their children have grown up into fine young adults. Their son, Nguyen Minh Tuan, is a third-year student at the HCM City Medicine and Pharmacy University, while daughter Nguyen Thu Hong studies at the Le Quy Don Mathematics School in Vung Tau City.

Talking about some of the hardships they endured, Luan recalls a stormy night in December 2006 when strong winds smashed the windows of their small house and flood waters came pouring in. She fled with the children, and the next day when they returned, everything was ruined.

“At that time I felt so sorry for us and we could only hold each other and cry. Then I thought about our predicament and realised there were a lot more people worse of than we were, including my husband and his comrades in the nha gian.

The life of a navy soldier’s wife is more strenuous than others,” she said.

“Each year, we get to spend a maximum of 30 days together, and it’s occasions such as Tet that we miss them the most, especially when we see other families enjoying the holidays together.”

Listening to his wife talking, Thuan seemed very proud of her.

“I am lucky because she stays strong and is always there to support me.”

Of his 19 years at sea, Thuan said his strongest memory was the time he spent Tet with soldiers in the stilt house where they were stationed.

A ship was trying to deliver Tet gifts to them, but the strong waves made it impossible to dock. The ship was called away on an emergency, and the soldiers were left empty-handed.

That Tet, Thuan’s unit had only a chicken and a green squash to see in the new year. He had to encourage the others to make the best of the situation with “a Tet of three nos: no wine, no banh chung (square glutinous rice cake) and no pork bologna.”

On New Year’s Eve, they laid the boiled chicken on the altar out of respect for the Motherland.

“After we’d performed the rituals, the nine of us ate the boiled chicken with rice, without wine or confectionery. We played cards all night to try and cure our home sickness, and on the first morning of new year, we held a Tet party with the green squash. On the afternoon of the third day, the ship finally returned with our Tet hamper. That was an unforgettable Tet and although it was simple, we felt warm with comradeship,” he said.

Thuan said that emotional support from his comrades was vital to overcoming the hardships of a lonely life at sea.

This year, more than 100 soldiers from his battalion will be on duty over Tet, stationed in their stilt houses.

“We protect and help each other to complete our tasks. Today, life in the nha gian is much better because we have enough vegetables and electricity. We have pretty much everything we need, almost as if we were living on the mainland,” he said.

VNS