I was born on October 20, 1914, in Ban May village, Nakhon Phanom province, Thailand.
My family's ancestral home is in Thach Minh commune, Thach Ha district, Ha Tinh province.
My father, Le Huu Đat, and my mother, Nguyen Thi Som, were Vietnamese expatriates living in Nakhon.
My family name was originally Le Huu, but by my generation, it had been changed to Le Van.
In 1923, when I was only ten years old, I was sent to China to study and to work within the Vietnamese Revolutionary Youth League.
By 1926, I returned to Vietnam with the task of helping establish the Indochinese Communist Youth Union and serving as a liaison between the Southern Party Committee and the Communist Party of Vietnam.
On February 9, 1931, during a gathering in Saigon commemorating the first anniversary of the Yen Bai Uprising, I shot and killed the secret police agent Le Grand to protect the speaker Phan Boi, who was delivering a speech at Lareni Square.
However, I was later arrested, imprisoned in Khám Lớn, and sentenced to death on November 21, 1931—when I was only seventeen.
During my final days in the death-row cell, I remained optimistic, full of life, and confident in the eventual victory of the revolution.
Even though I was chained, I exercised daily, read The Tale of Kieu, and encouraged the younger prisoners to strengthen their revolutionary resolve.
My unyielding courage filled the jailers with awe and astonishment, so they called me "Ông nhỏ" (Little Gentleman) and "a man of steel."
On the night of November 20, 1931, the prison guards quietly moved the guillotine to the entrance of Kham Lon.
At that moment, the entire prison erupted—doors pounding, shouts rising, slogans echoing. Thousands of prisoners, even common criminals, cried out:
"Down with the colonialists for executing Trong!"
"Down with the colonialists for killing Nguyen Huy!"
"Free Ly Tu Trong!"
The colonial authorities declared an emergency, surrounded the prison, and ordered soldiers inside to tie up and shackle the prisoners, yet the cries only grew louder.
The door to my death cell opened, and a group of soldiers with rifles surrounded me.
I walked calmly and steadily, shouting:
"Long live the Indochinese Communist Party!"
"Vietnam — long live independence!"
"Long live the victory of the Vietnamese revolution!"
From every cell, the prisoners shouted the slogans with me.
Moments later, as I was led toward the gate of Kham Lon Saigon, my voice echoed back:
"Arise, ye slaves of hunger! Arise, ye wretched of the earth…"